The true test of time: being remembered. And let’s face it, the shorter the better. Jesus, Buddha, Hitler, Madonna, Oprah, Obama, the Duke, Elvis, Diana, goes over better than the Archduke Ferdinand and still he gets remembered. Short and sweet.
We can all picture someone if I saw the name Bob, or John, or whatever, someone, but longer names are harder. I sat down one day years ago to do a memory test on my self: who could I name, without help, from my past. And I’m a gypsy, so I change friendships like most change jobs.
And I found that I could easily remember dozens of male names, first, last and sometimes even middle but could remember no more that a tenth as many women’s names beyond their first name. I guess it’s because I know more guys than girls, I get it, but this ratio was pathetic. Now I have trouble remembering anyone’s name beyond the moment it leaves their lips. “Hi, you were…?”
Had to do a space after the last character. Getting picky in my old age. But honestly, listening to music and typing my thoughts is about the best way I can spend my time.