Six windows, two walls

You would marvel at my Dad's ability to name the year he heard a particular song. He listens to his favorite FM station and would say dates in this state of eureka. Then, a short essay of where he was when he first heard the song. From his recollections I learned a lot about the Old Manila and the trams and Jones bridge and Aristocrat and Escolta and that Makati, back then, was just filled with waterlilies.

His father, a meteorologist who paid close attention to typhoons during his time and had written two books on aeronautical engineering and meteorology, has the same knack for memorizing things. I think I inherited that, having this wondrous inclination to memorize the Periodic Table, the Capitals of the World, and... a lot of things like maps on Crash Team Racing, and scientific advancements in Civilization III and IV. Save for the Krebs Cycle and scientific names of vegetables, it's very impractical.

I also fall into the same stupor my father loves to wallows in, misty-eyed, remembering things. That my life exists to remember things isn't a convincing argument, but sometimes we feel more alive just remembering.