3. (What to do) When You Learn the Meaning of Life

I firmly believe this to be a true story. No kidding. Philosophers, theologians and ordinary folk have since the beginning of time sought out the true meaning of life. Yet, it seems to elude common knowledge. Can it be that life's mysteries are simply too complex for mere humans to understand? Are the answers revealed to us only at the moment of our passing? (I mean dying, for any of you  motorheads reading this - I too find it to be almost a spiritual event to heel-and-toe-downshift and zoom past big trucks on blind curves, but this is NOT what I'm referring to -- 'though I suppose sometimes you get the same result).

I don't believe any of it. It is my strong, fervent belief that the meaning of life is revealed to us all in our useful lifetimes. I can confidently tell you the full meaning of life was revealed to me several years ago, and I have absolutely no reason to believe I'm any different than anyone else. I mean it, this is a true story. One night, after a few late-night cups of decaff coffee, I was lying awake in bed in the wee hours of the morning when it all came to me in a rush. It was beautiful. I understood. All the questions I ever had about God, my fellow man, how I should live my life, life-after-death, which sunglasses to buy, all were all clear and obvious. It is impossible to describe the sheer rapture I felt - life's mysteries had been revealed in full to me! The caffeine jitters went away, and this amazing calm came over me. I fell into the deepest and most pleasant sleep of my life.

The next morning I woke up feeling fantastic, with a huge smile on my face. I know the meaning of life! I know the meaning of life! It's so clear! It is beautiful It's.... it's.....no, wait,  it's, it's.... damn! I can't believe I forgot! This can't be happening to me! That's when it hit me -- I'll bet the secrets of life are revealed to us all, we just don't have the presence of mind to take notes (face it, we all hate to take notes). Needless to say, I have slept with a pad and pencil by my bed ever since. But I have no reason to believe these secrets will be revealed to me again. I mean, come on, who tells you the same secret twice? You're supposed to remember!

So, what's the moral of the story? Should be pretty obvious: When the meaning of life is revealed to you, WRITE IT DOWN. And then, please, please email it to me. OK? Thanks - I'm counting on you. I'm not making this up.

Well, it's all sort of down hill from here, but there are other, perhaps less important, applications of the same principles. I'm amused by my memory. I can recall amazing details of things from the past, including entire conversations word-for-word. Of course, I'll usually walk away not remembering the other person's name, but I'm certain 20 years from now I'll be able to recall the conversation in its entirety. Very useful for catching people in lies -- you know, they tell you one thing today, the opposite next week -- it doesn't matter how much confidence they exude when they contradict themselves. But still, I don't seem to have control over what gets stored in my memory and what gets left behind. Other people I know never forget a name, but seem to get most everything else wrong. Couples frequently develop exactly the opposite selection process for their memories -- this leads to them never, ever being able to agree on events of the past, who was involved, where it took place (picture Maurice Chevalier singing "We met at Nine/We met at eight/I was on time/you were late.... Ah yes, I remember it well."). Ask any couple some questions about how they met, who introduced them, who was attracted to whom first, etc. Then sit there and laugh at them as they argue.

Anyway, the point is, if it is important, and it's not on your memory selection list, write it down for cryin' out loud. Take notes. It won't kill you. If you don't, don't come cryin' to me when you can't remember.

And I really mean it. I swear the meaning of life was revealed to me and I forgot it.