In The Beginning

So how do things get started? Where and when do things actually begin? Can we ever identify a time or place where stuff really got started? Walking the bog road this morning I found my mind taking me back to what might have been one of those strange but traceable origin points. One of those “what if” points.

Memories are made of this.

So a curious thing happened when I was at school. The idea came to me one day that there must be a way (an extra special, magical, and fairy dust way) to remember things – yes I know making lists is very effective but you can’t really take them into an exam with you, can you?  Long before I had discovered various memory enhancement systems like mnemonics and association, (and Tony Buzan’s work on Mind Maps and linking ideas etc) I thought I might try and invent my own system of recall – and as fate would have it I had found the perfect testing ground.

School Days Over.

Now to be perfectly honest, back in those days I did not like school, and I’m pretty certain, school (and teachers) did not like me. There was one notable exception, Mr. Hile! In one of those strange but true-life crazy-role combos, Bojo (Mr. Hile) was the art teacher AND the sports teacher for rugby (the game, not the town). He made me the captain of the rugby team…recognition at last! But let me get back to my super-duper-memory-technique-inventing-phase.

One day in music class, we heard the dreaded words “there will be a test next week”, (I didn’t like tests) but this is when my idea of creating a memory system got started, so…here is how my system worked.

Under Pressure!

In preparing for the torture, I mean test, I reviewed the possible content that might come up. I took keywords and names and with each one I visualized the word or phrase as being right at the centre of my brain, I could literally see the words as text written in my brain. Then I would close my eyes, holding onto that image, and take a deep breath and attempt to squeeze and pressurize my brain in an effort to imprint the information onto the walls of my grey matter, almost as if I were tattooing the information on to the walls of my brain (at this point I feel it important to remind you, I was only 12 at the time). The recall phase was kind of a reversal of this process.

And the Winner is…

And the result?  A week after the test it was revealed that I had come top of the class. Yes. I was shocked too. This had never happened before (and  I should add, it never happened again). And what happened next? I was told that as a result of my superhuman test efforts I would be one of the kids chosen to play “an instrument” in the school orchestra, an orchestra that didn’t actually exist at that time because the school could not afford instruments – it was a poor area – but they were “coming soon”.

Instruments of Torture

So, as we had no “proper” instruments yet, I was told that I would start on the recorder,  or as I liked to call it “the effing recorder” (it’s a technical term). Now as sad coincidences go, it doesn’t get much sadder than this one. In order to become a member of the non-existent orchestra (the “orchestra that would be”?), I had to attend effing recorder lessons. And the timing? Perfect. Just when I should be leading my rugby playing troops on the field on a Friday afternoon I would instead be expected to turn up for 30 mins of effing recorder lessons…in my rugby kit (which was often smelly) before I could get outside and play “a man’s game” (irony….just in case). And to make matters worse, the music room overlooked the playing field. So there I would sit, smelly rugby kit on, boots outside by the door, and me holding an effing recorder for 30 mins whilst watching my buddies outside on the playing fields. Oh, the irony.

Give me the Horn!

Eventually, the “real” instruments arrived and I was given a trumpet and the orchestra proper started. Soon after that, I joined my first band (a combination of pop, soul, and reggae…I was the horn section and we had a wicked reggae version of the Magic Roundabout theme). Soon after that, I was thrown out of the orchestra, something to do with a purple shirt and an unfortunate incident with a snare drum, I don’t really recall…its not important…move along.

And where did all this take us?

So I find myself asking, did my super-duper memory technique lead me to where I am today? Sitting in my office (where I observe there are at least 7 different musical instruments only an arm’s length from where I am sitting, and this is not the studio/music room, it’s the office!!!). Was it that one experience that put me on my own path to becoming a pro musician and then to creating an Independent record label? If not for that would Luke have become a musician? Where would the “ginger one” (young Mr. Sheeran)  have found his inspiration and world dominance otherwise?

Wow, so my super-power memory technique led to all this…..well, it makes you wonder…?

PS.

And for the curious amongst you who want to know whether I kept up with my super-duper-memory technique? Not really, but later I discovered ‘tried and tested’ memory techniques when I eventually got to university and adopted them with gusto. But, interestingly, I can still recall some of the material I embedded in my brain for that test way back then, over 50 years ago! Hmmm, maybe I was on to something?

Stay safe and stay sane people.