On Tue, 1 May 2012 01:11:32 -0700, Peter Montgomery <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>I remember in one of the Tavernas, I was with some English fellows. We
started trading nick names
>for various things. I was trying to find out the english slang for condoms,
but they didn't know any of
>my north Aremican slang, so Ifinally blurted out, prophyllactics. The
taverna went silent, and everyone
>(all men of course), looked at me. Apparently that is the Greek word for
condoms. :) Sheepish look
>on my face.
>Curoious what one remembers.
Why, for all of us, out of all that we have heard, seen, felt, in a
lifetime, do certain images recur, charged with emotion, rather than others?
The song of one bird, the leap of one fish, at a particular place and time,
the scent of one flower, an old woman on a German mountain path, six
ruffians seen through an open window playing cards at night at a small
French railway junction where there was a water-mill: such memories may have
symbolic value, but of what we cannot tell, for they come to represent the
depths of feeling into which we cannot peer. We might just as well ask why,
when we try to recall visually some period in the past, we find in our
memory just the few meagre arbitrarily chosen set of snapshots that we do
find there, the faded poor souvenirs of passionate moments.