Jim Olson

3/7/26

When I was a senior in high school, an otherwise unimportant thing took place.  The memory of that event over the 47 years since continues to visit me at both rare and random times.  It has no real importance or relevance, nor did it leave me better or worse off.   It simply sits, like a quiet ghost behind some creaky old door in the corner of my mind, and ever so randomly, it peeks out, wanting another crack at some exposition. 

This event involved the practice of the local Rotary Club chapter in partnership with the local high schools in selecting a senior class member, a different one each month from each area high school, in which to attend their monthly luncheon meetings as “Junior” Rotarians.   I was chosen to attend one of the monthly meetings and with great interest when the day arrived, I got in the car with my high school principal, who stopped to pick up another high school principal along the way.  The three of us made our way to the location and then to the door of that monthly luncheon meeting.  (In case you are wondering, I never asked where or what happened to the selected “Junior Rotarian” from that other Principal’s school.)

There was an exceptionally long line backed up at the door, which was commented on by both of my chaperones.  It turned out that the day’s guest speaker was a business guru who specialized in building strong business relationships. The crux of his spin, we were to find out, was the strength of memory as a tool to win the day in relationships over and over again in the course of business.  

Thinking he was just demonstrating his relationship model early by greeting each of the 150 plus people arriving for the meeting, we took our turn shaking his hand and introducing ourselves as he asked us to do.  We then found our spots and hit the roast beef plates in front of us as the meeting moved past its Rotary business agenda and finally onto the guest speaker.

He began by asking everyone in the room to stand up.  He asked that when he pointed and said your name, to please sit down.  He then in a most extraordinary display, began to name at random tables, each and every person in the room….. except for myself and two others. He prodded each of us a little, then naming one the three of us, he gave up on I and the other guy.  He laughed it off, got the two of us seated, and plowed into his presentation.

 I did not really hear much of the presentation. I spent the entire time he was on stage deep in my own head about how in the heck could I, one of only four high school kids in the room amidst a wave of over 145 mostly middle-aged businessmen, be that freaking FORGETTABLE?  Not just forgettable, but forgettable to a savant in the memory trade….Holy Crap!   I swear, I know I caught numerous people glancing my way during his speech.  I’m pretty sure they were boning up on his model, knowing that if only they could remember THAT GUY, the forgettable guy, money and riches were sure to be theirs.  

At the end of the speech, he got thunderous applause and there was literally a mad rush to a table off to the side where everyone (but my chaperones and a few others) were buying up every copy of his new book and other training guides.  On the way back to school, it was mentioned between the two Principals that the only winner in those purchases was going to be the speaker with the obvious photographic memory of which such talent could not be passed on through osmosis. 

So there it is.  Forgettable.  Me.  And some other guy who is probably still dredging it up as well (or not).  For me it never was a vanity or hurtful thing.  It has always been what it is, a huge question mark.  At one point in my early twenties and still really trying to figure out my path forward, this thing randomly popped up again and I thought, well heck, maybe I ought to go apply at the CIA…I apparently could do forgettable as well as anyone at a place paying high dollars for forgettable faces.   I moved past that (as far as you know).

The lesson is we all have had moments that are hopefully and blessedly not painful, but nonetheless stick with us. If we never resolve some things, it’s ok.  We mostly move on.  We hopefully tackle weightier matters.  For me, there has been actual peace and humor at each creak of that memory door.  I am living happily not just as a “forgettable”, I am LEGEND, in that category.