I voted for Bob Dole in 1996. There… I said it. I’m not afraid to admit it.
I remember why I voted for him quite clearly. I was thoroughly appalled by President Clinton’s indiscretions and evasions, and the Lewinsky scandal was the last straw. Once that got out, I decided to vote for Bob Dole. I feel that this is a defensible position.
Except, of course, that it is quite obviously wrong. The Lewinsky scandal broke in 1998. My very clear recollections of why I voted for Bob Dole are easily shown to be deeply flawed. The only explanation I can possibly come up with is… um… maybe my brain chemistry wasn’t entirely in its original condition during those years. It was my Steve Dallas phase.
So, what about you. Anyone else out there have a memory that they would have sworn by, only to learn that it was bogus? Surely I’m not the only one. Right? RIGHT??!?
I’m often haunted by a recurring dream about my time on Mars, but I’ve never been to Mars, so a few days ago I headed down to Rekall Inc. where they sell implanted memories, you know? But something went wrong with the memory implantation, and I suddenly remembered being a secret agent fighting against the evil Mars administrator Cohaagen.
Beware of Sharon Stone.
And wear goggles. Just in case.
I hold my memories highly suspect. Particularly anything that isn’t very specific.
I mean, I remember how awesome it was to unpack my AT-AT at Christmas when I was a kid. I trust that memory, it’s very uncomplicated and clear.
I don’t trust my recollections of how my first relationship went down. I no longer accuse people of forgetting to tell me things, because I routinely forget things people tell me. Instead I accuse people of trying to tell me things when it’s clear I’m not going to remember them, and then getting upset later when I’ve forgotten.
I remember, very clearly, flying down the stairs. I was sliding down on my stomach and took off and just gently flew and landed comfortably on the bottom.
I am guessing that this probably did not happen.
I should mention that this was when I was about four years old. Not yesterday.
It would have been a much better story if it happened yesterday.
This is more akin to Elizabeth’s example than yours, but: I remember riding a bus. We drove in a puddle that was larger than the bus. Then we drove out. I don’t think this actually happened. It probably falls under the category of very, very vivid dream.
I also remember quite clearly nicking a black SUV near my university when I was in college. But that never happened. That was a lie I told my parents to explain how I busted a headlight. So there’s no mystery as to what happened, though my ability to apparently commit it to memory is bizarre.
I don’t have anything on par with your Bob Dole example, though there are at least a couple of understandable explanations for that (it was one of Clinton’s other sex scandals, you actually voted for Clinton but two years later wished you had voted for Dole, you’re rationalizing to yourself because you’re ashamed to admit that you’re a Republican at heart.)
The best lies are ones that convince you of their truth even before you get home to tell ’em.
I’ve got one. Remembering rocking out to a song that wasn’t released until years and years after the memory. (More details here!)
Perhaps you’re a clairvoyant? (Any lottery suggestions?)