Mixed Up
Memory is a funny thing. I know, for instance, there is only one natural lake in Texas. Somehow, I came to believe that was Inks Lake. Then yesterday, I went to the lake for the first time, having never gone there despite all the years we camped around Texas. Turns out Inks Lake is one of the Highland Lakes. It was dammed in 1938. Talk about a paradigm shift. The natural lake is Caddo. It was created by a log jam. But, I guess because it felt lonely, it eventually got a dam, too.
I have no idea how Inks Lake became associated in my mind with the idea of it being the only natural lake in Texas. But it did, and I would tell people that was the case, and I guess because they didn’t know any different, or were too polite to correct me, they’d let me spout off. So, now I’m disabused of that notion, and I’ve come to believe I might not know or remember anything. This isn’t the first time my memory has proven faulty, or my knowledge incorrect.
Understanding the depths of my ignorance and the falseness of my memory is actually a relief. I can just shut up and listen as other people ramble on about what they think they know. I’ve certainly avoided a great many arguments in recent years. Basically, I leave the facts, such as they are, to Google, and there are still facts to be had. But overall, I’m less of a participant and more of an observer these days. And that’s okay. I’ve never been a sparkling conversationalist anyhow. And this may be why. I’ve never actually known anything. I guess that really proves the idea of better late than never.