Tag Archives: deja vu

Have I said it all before?

Everyone has experienced déjà vu, that feeling that the moment you’re in already happened. It’s so remarkable that when it does happen, we tend to announce, “Oh, déjà vu!” Our companions then shiver with vicarious thrill at the mystery of it.

When someone forgets that they’ve told you a story, and you are subjected to a re-telling, a real déjà vu, there is no accompanying thrill. If it’s the first time, it might take a while before you recognize it, in which case you’re likely to be polite and hear the speaker out. Your patience, however, will grow thinner with each subsequent re-telling. And when I say “your” I mean mine, and yes, I am projecting unapologetically.

I admit that I like attention, but I’m also easily embarrassed, so I police my own behavior accordingly. If I start to tell a story, and someone says, “Yes, you’ve told me,” I stop, blush, and apologize. As a matter of fact, I’ll often start with, “If I’ve told you this, stop me,” rather than risk embarrassing myself. In person, this is easily dealt with, but not on my blog.

Last week, while writing about how George Harrison was my Beatle, I experienced déjà vu, convinced that I’d written those exact words before. I reviewed old blogs and didn’t turn up anything. If it wasn’t a blog post, it must be something else. I searched my hard drive – still nothing. Why was I so nervous?

I’d already written about my lousy memory. Worse, I wrote about the same subject twice, once in late 2010, and again in September of 2011. When I realized that I’d done that, I waited nervously for you to point it out. But you never did. There could be any number of reasons for that; you don’t actually read my blog; your memory is bad, too; you didn’t want to embarrass me. If it was the latter, I appreciate your kindness, but the fact that you never said anything didn’t actually make it any less humiliating because I am my own worst enemy.

It was only a matter of time before I confessed that I’d written about the same subject twice. That’s what I do. I have to point out my mistake before I can forgive myself. Hey, that’s a good idea for a post. Except you might think, since I just mentioned it, that I’d already written all you need to read about my need to confess. I wouldn’t want to bore you by telling you again. What will happen to my blog when I’ve told you all my stories? Will you be polite and keep reading, or will you wander away? I mean, in person, this is easy to deal with, but on my blog it’s harder. Have I told you that before? Oh no, déjà vu…