I'm no good at remembering things in detail or even in general. It doesn't get in my way since without a ton of memories I have room to make sexy or heroic or honest amendments to my past as I see fit. Thus this blog where my own fact and fiction collide and present themselves as truth.
A lifetime ago before breasts, boys and babies, I borrowed a book of tongue twisters from the library. Even then I had an inkling about the faulty wiring of my memory. With that in mind, I set to memorizing the longest tongue twister of the book. Obviously, if I could memorize it then I would vanish all those haunting doubts about my intellectual prowess. And memorize it, I did.
I have no idea when it was exactly that I first drank myself into a stupor or who I went to Quebec with that one time or how exactly I got off the boat on the coast of France and found myself darting dangerously through unknown streets with a race car driver at the helm or when this freckle on my finger appeared. I know it happened but not when or why. Those are the kind of blanks I fill in at my leisure.
Meanwhile, the words to that tongue twister have stayed with me through it all. Of course, I'll share.
Betty Botter bought some butter
but she said the butter's bitter
if I put it in my batter
it will make my batter bitter
but a bit of better butter
that will make my batter better
so she bought a bit of butter
better then her bitter butter
and she put it in her batter
and her batter was not bitter
so 'twas better Better Botter bought a bit of better
butter.
So if you please, I'm looking to make my batter better here at better butter. Writing it down, as off-key as it may be, makes me better.
