Time Traveler (eBook)

David Heryet (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023 | 1. Auflage
394 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-9984-8 (ISBN)

Infos

In the process of trying to protect and restore human memories, one leading researcher becomes caught up by the process itself.

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New technology developed to protect and restore human memory loss from dementia and Alzheimer's disease results in the revisiting and reliving of important previous events in the subjects life, and seems to connect the separate moments in time.

Textauszug

UCSB – Graduate School – Lecture Notes ‐ Intro Sociology and Psychology Seminar –

So much of human communication and our social interactions with others is in the form of telling stories. At any particular social or business situation, the subject matter of a conversation quite normally triggers memories of similar events or anecdotes. A significant portion of who we are is presented to the world through stories we carry with us through life. Obviously, some people are better at it than others, from an entertainment or comedic perspective, and it – storytelling – involves skills that are learned through out one’s lifetime. Skills that can be practiced and improved, but still are – with language proficiency – the basis of basic human interactions.

Your first assignment is to write some of these down, - the ones you’ve told repeatedly at gatherings with family or friends…with no intent to try to tie them all together and discover many re-occurring themes (like getting inebriated), activities, characters and locations.

And pay attention to voice… When having a beer or two with friends, whose perspective do you tell the tale from? ‘There I was…;’ ‘…so now we’re all in trouble…’ ‘They realized their predicament…’? How is it that you provide necessary background information without sacrificing too much active story telling? Some authors suggest using an active voice to keep interest, but what is it in the nature of human psychology that retains interest, and is it the same for everyone? Is it a formal event or an after party? Shakespeare or Salinger?

After a while, a large part of who you are is wrapped-up in the stories you tell…

Dr. Chaz Diaz –

Chaz Diaz was an Earl’s regular who was an excellent skier and also happened to be the local emergency room physician. When he was at the restaurant people were always asking him medical questions, and, while polite, he usually just tried to blow them off because he was too busy looking for women.

“Chaz, do you think this is broken?” I said showing him my hand.

I had recently smacked my fist against the wall while making a point in an early morning disagreement with my girlfriend. It was a fairly loud and vocal disagreement, and I had wacked the wall to underscore some important point, although to this day I don’t recall what it was. In hindsight, the point I ended up making was how incredibly stupid I was, not only for; 1) having such a lame girlfriend; 2) hitting the wall with a little over-enthusiasm; and 3) selecting a spot on the wall for my youthful aggression that was hiding a huge post that held up the roof.

“Yeah.” he said, after a momentary glance.

“No, no, Denny. Look at it. It’s not really broken…” I explained to him, relying on my vast knowledge of human anatomy, bio-mechanics, and upon the fact that I simply couldn’t have broken my knuckle doing something as incredibly stupid as hitting a huge hidden beam in the wall while arguing with someone who, on a good day, had the brain power of an overcooked cabbage.

He glanced back, this time for at least twice as long, while I quickly showed him just how much I could move it, thereby establishing beyond doubt that it wasn’t broken, just really sprained or something. This time he must have looked at it for a full second.

“Yeah, it’s broken.” He said again, walking off toward a tall blonde. “Come in and see me tomorrow at the ER.”

On the ER patient information form there’s a line that says Cause of Injury. Being way too embarrassed to actually admit how I had broken my hand, I wrote “Tripped over dog”. I was immediately busted by Dr. Chaz who began explaining why this injury was known as the Boxer’s Fracture because it is so obviously the result of fist-meets hard-surface. (It should actually be known as the Stupid Wanna-Be-Boxer’s-Fracture since anyone familiar with boxing would probably never hit anything in such a moronic fashion.) Glancing at the ER form, he shook his head.

“You can’t lie to your doctor…” he admonished me, as he yanked on this ridiculous contraption that resembled children’s finger-handcuffs tied to an adjustable pole on wheels. He had inserted my little finger into one of the braded metal handcuff thingies and was jerking down on my arm in an attempt to re-break the knuckle so he could slide the end of the bone back into place. This was, of course, without any pain killer.

At the same time, he was fixing my hand, Chaz was also treating a high school girl who had come to the ER with her boyfriend…They had apparently been experimenting with various vegetables and had been unable to retrieve a portion of the cucumber that had somehow broken off…

…Like a Rollin’ Stone

One fairly busy summer night, Chaz came into the restaurant and was seated up in the wicker room, a quieter and more intimate location that looked out over the entry area and foyer.

A busy night in the restaurant is something akin to organized chaos, and energy flows in subtle and mysterious ways. On this particular night, when I arrived for the late section shift, the energy was already building up, and part of it seemed to take the form of Wacky-Song Night, as Jeff Neville, Hormone and a few others were singing bits and pieces of a variety of old songs, many of which with a distinct Dylan-esque drawl.

“Standin on down by the side of the road, reeeen fallin’ in my sheeeoooz…” Neville crooned as he walked out the kitchen door.

“…Tango lovin’ bleeuuuz…” Hormone finished…

“…and she makes love…. Just…. Like ….. A Woman

…but she breaks, just like a little girl…”

Before too long, I was well into my shift and singing along with all the other idiots, howling famous Dylan sound bites like “…bein’ all alone…. “ in my biggest, baddest, stupidest obnoxious Bob Dylan-parody voice. “…like a Rollin’ STONE.” Of course, I had no idea why everyone was singing Dylan songs and I didn’t really care, assuming it was just the randomness of the universe or the phase of the moon that had somehow made this “Let’s all make fun of Bob Dylan Night” in the kitchen at Earl’s. None of my compadres took it upon themselves to let me know that, while they too were having fun doing Dylan impersonations, they were careful to staunch their obnoxious behavior anywhere near the kitchen door or out in the restaurant. As for me, I sang my Drunken Bob songs well out into the restaurant as I left and re-entered the kitchen doors twenty or thirty times over the next hour. It seemed like everybody in the kitchen thought I fucking hysterical, which was kinda weird because my impersonations were clearly inferior to those of Neville and Hormone.

Jeff Neville was working the Wicker Room section that night. After a while he asked me if I could give him a hand.

“Pierr-ski, can you help me out, bro?”

“Roped again, eh asshole?” I responded in neo-classic waiter-ease, letting him know I would be glad to assist him. “What’cha need?”

“Would you take your ugly-slugness out and go pour some water on table fifteen?” At the time, I didn’t notice the significance of the slight half-smile on his ugly mug. Grabbing an Earl’s standard-issue gigantic pewter water pitcher, I went out the door and up the stair to table fifteen, the closest one to the kitchen. In the darker Wicker Room, it only took me a second to see that Dr. Chaz was one of the two people seated at the table.

“Hey Chaz,” I said, picking up a water glass, “how’s everything?”

“Fine, just fine.” he said. As I reached for the second water glass, Chaz added, “Let me introduce you to my friend, Bob…”

“Hi,” I said. “Nice to meet…” I stopped, blinking dumbly into Bob’s face. “Um…” I continued, lamely. Drawing from the Universal Waiter’s Emergency Play Book, I stammered, “Y’know, um, I think I got something, ah, burning in the kitchen.” and staggered back down the stairs and into the growing laughter in the kitchen.

As it turned out, Chaz Diaz apparently went to high school with Bob Dylan, and ol’ Bob was out for a visit and staying with Chaz at his house in Olympic Valley. The next morning, I was recalling the previous evening’s stupidness while driving out to Squaw Valley to ski for a few hours and likely have a few beers at the lodge with the usual characters. Driving into the Valley I couldn’t help but notice the short scraggly figure hitching the other direction, trying to get a ride out of the valley. As I passed, I looked over and saw again the now somewhat too-familiar face of Bob Dylan. Had it not been for my previous night’s embarrassment, I probably would have turned around and given him a ride. As it was, I figured I’d be better off just letting him walk.

Travelers’ Quantum Entanglement?

The...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 9.6.2023
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Science Fiction
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-9984-8 / 1667899848
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-9984-8 / 9781667899848