The remarkably late realization on the part of Rick

Now I am back in Tokyo. Reflecting on my encounter with Rick Baron, I think the most remarkable fact was that although Rick is gifted with this most astonishing ability to recall autobiographical memories, he is at the same time good at social skills, and warm to people. In other words, there is no apparent effect of "trade-offs" in his overall cognitive skills.

I think this fact had partly to do with the remarkably late realization on the part of Rick (two years ago) that his special talent is something rare in this world. Indeed, there are only four confirmed cases of hyperthymesia so far. Because Rich Baron is such a nice and "normal" person, nobody including himself suspected that his brain was so special.


The crew from Fuji television filming Rick Baron.

It always has a human touch

On the final day in Cleveland, we went to various places with Rick Baron.

About one hour after shopping in a liquor shop, I asked him if there were anything particular that he remembered from the shop. Rick came forward with the list of items we bought, complete with their prices, in a very straightforward and spontaneous manner. I, on the other hand, had only a fuzzy idea about what we have bought, let alone the prices.

The strange thing is that as you get accustomed to Rick's way, you feel as if it is only natural to remember things with precise chronological data. Failure to do so start to look like embarrassing.

One could not learn to perform like Rick by training, though. After spending a few days with Rick Baron, I am convinced that his remarkable memory ability is something that he was born with. It is not an acquirable skill. Even if the trick of retrieving the precise chronological information could be mastered after many years of strenuous efforts, the resulting memory skill would not be in its nature equivalent to Rick's.

In other words, Rick's memories are "personalized". It always has a human touch, and adds warmth to the information he gives away in such a positive and reassuring manner.


Watching the Super Bowl, New Orleans Saints vs. Indianapolis Colts, with Rick Baron in a Cleveland Sports Bar 7th February 2010.

Rick, you are better even than google!

In the radio station, Rick Baron took phone calls from the listeners, who challenged Rick to say what day of the week it was, and what events happened, on the specific day that they quoted, most often their birthdays. Rick unfailingly told them the correct day of the week, and some memorable events on that particular day. When the day happened to be "quiet", Rick offered to mention events that happened prior to, or just after, the date quoted.

At present, we do not understand the details of the mechanisms of memory encoding and retrieval in the human brain. And yet, the existence of an outstanding individual like Rick Baron is a certain testimony of the capability of the human memory circuit. It shows that, given appropriate wirings, it is possible to be a "memory genius" like Rick, being able to retain and then retrieve at will the details of one's life in a precise chronological order.

Given the long period over which human memory system has evolved, one wonders why for most of us the memory system fails, in that it is unable to do the feat that is so natural for an person like Rick Baron. For some unknown reasons, the human brain seems to have chosen not to optimize its retention abilities, in order to achieve a balanced state of functionalities. There are likely to be trade-offs.

On the 2nd day, we visited Rick's house again.

Rick has several glass and porcelain objects of elephants with their trunks pointing upwards on the glass table in the living room. When asked for their significance, Rick mentioned that they were originally meant to wish good luck for his mother, who was ill at that time. The geometrical accuracy with which Rick spatially arranged these things were truly remarkable. And not only the elephants. Chairs, paper towels, clothes, glasses, cups, photo stands, pictures, shoes. It was apparent that Rick paid attention to the details of the spatial arrangement of things.

Sitting in his room, looking at the items placed in a meticulous order, one gets a feeling which could only described as a sense of awe, in the presence of the workings of a remarkable mind. You almost feel as if you are in a shrine, where things bear significance of things other than earthly functionalities.

As we asked Rick to perform further sets of tests, the extent of his remarkable autobiographical memory became more apparent. A casual conversation led to Rick's remark that we could name any "niche" subject, and Rick would give accurate chronological information on that.

"When did you first fly on an airplane?" I asked. Rick chuckled, and then went on to describe his life's very first airborne travel with the date and the day of the week provided. Not only that, he went on to list the subsequent flights, cities of origin and destinations, complete with the date and the day of the week.

As we remained silent in admiration of this sparkling intellectual stunt, Rick continued his demonstration, by recalling the films he has seen, music he has heard, and people he has met, with a perfect chronological order.

In one session, we chose a random date by throwing a dart on a calendar of the past 40 years. When the dart landed on, say, 14th June 1978, we asked Rick what happened on that date. Rick would start bursting with information. Meanwhile, a few staff members tried to verify what Rick said by conducting a search on the internet.

When the incident that Rick mentioned was a historic event, it was easy to confirm its truth by the internet. Even so, it sometimes took painfully long to affirm Rick's claims. Becoming impatient, Rick kept saying "you know you must take my words. You cannot make up history".

Memories of personal experiences such as going to see the films were naturally difficult to confirm. In these cases, we had to literally take Rick's words as they were, although the natural way in which he came forward with the information was convincing in itself.

Most interesting were the cases where Rick remembered things which could be confirmed in principle, but were difficult to do so in practice even using the vast data now being accumulated on the internet.

For example, Rick mentioned that he saw an episode of "Honeymooners" on October 20th 1962, the present blog writer's birthday. Rick said that it was broadcast as part of a show. He was about 5 years old then. In such a case, it should be in principle possible to verify Rick's claim by objective records. However, it is not certain whether a record exists of the television programming in Cleveland area on that particular day, such a long time ago. In such a case, what Rick remembers should be more detailed and (presumably) accurate compared to what is currently available on the web.

"Rick, you are better even than google!" I finally exclaimed. At this, Rick Baron laughed with his characteristic big smile.





Photos of the Rick Baron Interview.

Rick Baron

I came all the way to Cleveland to meet with Mr. Rick Baron.

Rick's condition is termed "hyperthymesia", where the individual has a remarkable ability to recall his or her autobiographical memory. Researchers at University of California Irvine are investigating the nature of Rick's special abilities. So far, there are four confirmed cases of hyperthymesia in the United States. One of them is Jill Price, who has authored a book describing her experience as someone who cannot forget. Rick Baron is one of the four.

Rick Baron lives in the suburban Cleveland, in a surrounding of typical American residential area. It was a cloudy day in Cleveland. As I left the car, occasional snowflakes were falling from the sky onto my coat.

When I pressed the bell, the door was immediately opened. A well-built gentleman appeared, with a broad smile on his face. I shook hands with Rick Baron.

Once in his house, and after some small talk, I sat down to have the first conversation with Rick.

When I said that I was born on 20 October 1962, Rick smiled. Apparently, it was too easy for him. "You know it was Saturday", he said. "You know what happened two days after you were born?" I shook my head. "No, I have no clue". "It was the Cuban missile crisis", Rick said.

Later, I checked out the facts, and confirmed that on 22nd October 1962, President Kennedy delivered a key public speech in which he declared that " It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile launched from Cuba against any nation in the Western Hemisphere as an attack on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union."

When I showed Rick some logos of national football teams, he smiled, again apparently anticipating what I was going to ask. "Is it perhaps too easy for you?" I remarked in advance.

When I pointed to the logo of a blue star, Rick immediately recognized it as the emblem of Dallas Cowboys. Then he went on to explain that Dallas Cowboys won their first Super Bowl title in year blah blah blah , and then in year so and so, citing the exact dates and scores. Then he went on to name the manager of Dallas Cowboys, from the initial appointee onwards.

"This is apparently a piece of cake for you," I said.

"Well, you see, sequential information the easiest for me." Rick answered.

When I pointed to another seal, Rick immediately replied that it was that of New Orleans saints, and went on to do the same feat as he did for Dallas Cowboys.

When I asked him "when did you realize that you had special abilities", Rick replied that he did not until 2007, when a conversation with one of his friends prompted him to contact the researchers at University of California at Irvine. Rick was then tested over the phone whether he was a genuine hyperthymesiac, going through a series of trivia quiz that he successfully passed.

"Isn't it remarkable that you came to realize your talent so late in your life?" I said. Rick shrugged his shoulders.

"It was something so natural to me. I did win in the trivia quiz contests, but that was about all."

The way Rick spoke, it was as if accurately holding all those autobiographical memories was something that was natural to him like breathing and heart beating.

Glancing around in his house, one could not help noticing the meticulous care with which Rich tidied the place, ordering things in a almost perfect symmetrical arrangement.

Later in the evening we followed Rick Baron to 1420 AM WHK radio station, for appearance in the Kelly & Company program, hosted by Tom Kelly. I joined Rick, and made my debut in an English language radio show.


With Rick Baron


With Rick Baron.


With Rick Baron in the WHK radio.


With Rick Baron and Tom Kelly

Pet Relief Area.

We were originally bound for Washington D.C. Then, at Narita airport, the ANA receptionist told us that air traffic was expected to be disrupted around Washington, due to the forecasted heavy snow. She kindly suggested would we like to travel to Chicago instead, from where we could make connections to Cleveland, our final destination.

This kind of contingency in travel is always enjoyable. I spent the half hour or so waiting for our ticket transfer typing on my laptop on the airport counter.

In Chicago, we found a Chili restaurant. It was morning time in the United States. Expecting to be fed some spicy food, we were disappointed to find that only breakfast menus were available. The coffee was quite enjoyable, though. I guess American coffees are on a steady trend of improvement.

Having arrived in Cleveland, while waiting for the car to start, I am writing this journal.

Just outside the terminal building, I found one interesting sign. It said "Pet Relief Area". Intrigued, I followed the arrows. As expected, there was a small grassland area, where you could find some pet droppings. Smile crossed my mouth as I imagined how relieved these small loved ones must have been, after having gone through the ordeal of an airborne trip.

Now we are going to down town. Our adventure starts here.


Pet Relief Area Sign


Pet Relief Area Grassland.

Cleveland

I am bound for Cleveland, Ohio, U.S.A. today. It is on a great lake, and is characterized by freezing weather in winter, or so I hear.

I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but that is exactly what excites me. Nothing is more enjoyable in life than a pure surprise, and I suppose Cleveland would be full of them.

I will post my encounters as they come along in this space, once I am over there in the new world.

Decouple one's learning process from the social contexts and make it grow rapidly

The Japanese economy is experiencing a prolonged period of depression, starting from the bust of the bubble economy. Some have even called the past two decades as "the lost 20 years."

Because the human brain is well developed and capable of adapting to the environment, it is possible and natural that the Japanese people are experiencing days of low key mentality. The coupling of the national economy and the sentiments of the individuals in this way, however, is certainly not something inevitable.

It is entirely possible to "decouple" one's mental activities from those of the nation. One could have one's own brain "grow" at a high rate, despite the fact that the economy in general is in stagnation.

The leaning process of the brain is open-ended, and one is certainly able to keep learning, as the study materials have become more or less free with the advent of the internet.

The single important wisdom for anyone in today's world, whether living in Japan or anywhere else, is to decouple one's learning process from the social contexts and make it grow rapidly, to achieve one's hidden potentials.

While my fondest memories would ever remain with the small time things

When I was hearing the NHK radio this morning, the news reader said that the Vancouver Olympics was just nine days away.
Then I suddenly realized that my favorite town is going to be in the spot light very soon.

My fond memories of the town was associated with festivities from the beginning. One day, Verna took me with Randy and Trevor to the PNE parade. At that time, I had no idea what "PNE" stood for. Later, the knowledge came to me that PNE actually stood for "Pacific National Exhibition". It was a parade of people in colorful costumes, with dragons and other fantastic entities entertaining people as they went along the street.

Then came the Expo 86. I happened to visit Vancouver there at that time. The seaside areas was transformed beyond recognition, and my favorite town appeared somewhat enchanted and a little distant.

Now I am waiting with my heart beating, to see how Vancouver would be transformed in the aftermath of the Olympics. It would surely put Vancouver on the map, big time, while my fondest memories would ever remain with the small time things, like the trips to Dairy Queen restaurants when Verna treated us with chocolate dipped ice cream.

I did not need to wear the color any more.

At one time in my life, I quite liked the color orange. To me then, the color seemed to represent vivacity and free thinking. I actually wore orange clothes. My friends laughed at me.

Then, I think the process of internalization started. the color orange started to penetrate into the core of my soul. I learned to live orange, rather than to wear it, and after the learning process was over, I did not need to wear the color any more.

I wonder if a similar process of internalization happened when as a kid, up to 4 or 5 years, I quite fancied the color red, and then ceased to have red items all of a sudden one day.

Recent tweets

Here are some of my recent tweets.

When your time is up and you fall, you can become a nurse log, and protect and nurture life at large. In forest nothing is lost, even death.

In order to grow, you need to have a root. The difficulty is that the root is invisible and can be quite easily overlooked and ignored.

If humans were able to change shapes like the moon periodically, what a dynamical life would follow. Just imagine that!

The value of diversity, whether biological or cultural, is that you are overwhelmed. You feel small.

To enrich and respect the diversity inside you means that you give up controlling everything. You float on a wave of things.

Having a chat with my philosopher friend Ken Shiotani. Pragmatism is different from utilitarianism, he says.

http://twitter.com/kenmogi

The color of sea was something very subtle.

So one day in my twenties, I finally made it to Prince Edward Island. If I remember correctly, I flew from Montreal, and had to land twice before reaching Charlottetown.

After a few hours on the island I discovered that the island is a charmer quite independent of the Anne series.

Most enjoyable was the bicycle ride from Cavendish to North Rustico. It was a seaside road, and the wind blew against your face as you sped along. There were few cars, and you felt quite safe.

One in North Rustico, there were loads of restaurants providing the definite local delicacy, lobster. I sat at the table waiting for the lobster, but quite unexpectedly, something quite different finally won the day. The mussels. The steamed mussels were so tasty that I had to have a second helping, despite the fact that the serving was very generous in the first place.

The color of sea was something very subtle. There was this exquisite gradation from the seashore to the offshore, apparently reflecting the combination of effects due to the water surface reflection and the underlying sand, which was famously and in fact red.

Starting the day thus as an idiot

When I was a senior high school student, I was influenced by the German culture a lot. I loved to (and still love to) listen to the works of Richard Wagner, and avidly read the writings of Nietzsche.

I was over 30 when I finally made it to the land of my fantasies. My virgin landing was made in Munich, the town of King Ludwig II. Munich became my favorite destination, not least because of the National theater where you can appreciate the finest performances of operas.

Among the many things that I enjoyed while being in Munich, I must count beer as the foremost joy. I was surprised that the default ordering unit in many beer houses was one liter. When you sit down, and say "Bier, bitte", they automatically bring this huge thing. Another surprising thing is that you are able to consume the thing somehow.

One of my classics was when I visited the Hofbräuhaus in the morning. I believe it was at 10 a.m. sharp. At this early hour, and it was a weekday, there were already some customers.

I ordered the default beer ("Helles!"), and drank from the heavy glass. I had my favorite pratzel. The salt goes very well with the beer.

By the time I finished my second glass, I was completely red colored and merry. When I stumbled out of the beer house, it was broad daylight. I went into the direction of my next destination, although I don't quite recall what it was.

Starting the day thus as an idiot was one of the best things that I ever did while on road.

In order to explore the vast universe of ramen noodles, I need to have more exposure time

I have several weaknesses in life. One of them is that when I eat ramen noodles, I invariably go for the miso flavor.

I know there are other flavors, such as salt, soy, and tonkotsu. If I had ramen three times a day, I would probably have a fairly balanced diet in terms of the ramen flavors, as I can start with the "secure base" of the miso flavor. As it happens, I cannot have that much bowls of ramen noodles. I am always in a state in which I am hungry for ramen noodles.

When I walk along the streets of Tokyo, I am incessantly on the lookout for ramen noodles. Most of the time I do not make it, as I am too busy or am otherwise occupied or engaged.

So when I finally have a chance to sit down at a ramen restaurant counter, I have a strong urge to choose my very favorite favorite flavor, miso, and satisfy my urge.

In order to explore the vast universe of ramen noodles, I need to have more exposure time.

These were the days when I had to form a sentence before I started to speak

During my stay in Vancouver, I went to the Langara college to take English lessons. I used to take the bus, and would ask for "transfers". "Transfer, please" was the first daily colloquial expression that I learned by heart. I remember quite well the strange sweetness of time passage as I waited for the bust to come. The buses were numbered, and I had to take a certain number. When a bus approached with a number that I was waiting for, my breast throbbed with relief.

These were the days when I had to form a sentence before I started to speak, or, when I tried to do it on the spot, the words came out of my mouth only reluctantly and in a clumsy manner. I enjoyed speaking (or rather, to be more precise, trying to speak) in English, all the same.

On the latest visit to Vancouver several years ago, I went to Langara college, to meet myself in the past. The buildings and the campus greens had such a resonance in my heart, until I remembered in a vivid image the linguistically impoverished fifteen years old me walking around with paper bag lunch.


The Langara college campus.

There was something definitely primitive in literally eating "from hand to mouth".

One of the things that I really enjoyed doing in British Columbia was blueberry picking.

Verna took me to the Richmond Nature Park, which was about 10 minutes drive from 7580 Railway Avenue. The Park was a vast extension of shrubs and larger trees, and you could pick up blueberries. Taking the tiny fruits from the boughs and eating them straight away was an incredibly rewarding and enjoyable experience.

Verna explained to me that people were allowed to eat as much blueberries as they liked. Only don't bring bottles, Verna said. You were not allowed to take blueberries back home, to make jam, etc. I thought the regulation was fair enough.

There was something definitely primitive in literally eating "from hand to mouth". There were times in the history of human kind when the wild meant abundance, and the blueberry picking brought back those ancient times.

In a flash, I realized how stupid I had been.

When you are young you do incredibly stupid things from time to time. Incredibly stupid seen with the benefit of hindsight, that is.

When I was roaming in Vancouver at the age of 15, my mind was filled with all these strange ideas.

I was originally drawn to Canada by the "Anne series" written by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Consequently, I was on the look out for anything related to Anne, no matter how faint and irrelevant the connection might be.

There was a shopping center at Oakridge, and once I wandered into it. There, I happened to notice that a store attendant lady was wearing a nametag of "Ann". I think that was the fish shop.

"Oh, your name is Ann", I said. The lady, noticing that I was apparently a young boy from a foreign country and having no idea what I was up to, just answered "Yes", and smiled.

At that moment, I think, something extraordinary happened. I was no longer living in a fantasy land, and was being exposed to the reality of the everyday life. I felt the living throb of the new world through the lady. In a flash, I realized how stupid I had been. The mundane scene of a shopping center appeared to glow in a newly recognized brilliance.

I did not now say "you're name is not spelt with an 'e'", by the way.

Equations for happiness could be simplified

After my initial sojourn in Canada, I repeated the visit several times, and learned to love British Columbia and the surrounding areas.

Life styles are different from country to country. One of the things that I really liked in Canada was the habit of picnic. It was also a very simple and unassuming matter. You simply brought some buns, hamburgers and vegetables. You flame the burgers out in the open, and make a sandwich. The vegetables are put into the dip and eaten straight away. No fuss, no lengthy preparations,
just taking it easy.

I learned from these outings in the parks that equations for happiness could be simplified, uncovering the trembling of the inner self open to the larger world.

And then the sunshine laughs.

I would like to embrace the clumsy in me, in everybody.

When your English is still clumsy, and you have a small vocabulary, you have a hard time among the native speakers. The most trying is when you are the single foreigner among the patriots. Worse still, in the English speaking world of the Americas people tend to assume that you are a speaker of their language as a default, regardless of your ethnic origin.

The most difficult task is to carry the conversation in a home party, where nobody pays an extra attention to the fact that you're from a country where English is not the first language. Then you develop a set of skills designed to make life comfortable for you and people around.

For example, you develop a skill in which you divert people's attention and direct the conversation with a short sentence.
It is rather like the technique described by Kurt Vonnegut in his essay "A man without a country." I quote:

As I kid I was the youngest member of my family, and the youngest child in any family is always a jokemaker, because a joke is the only way he can enter into an adult conversation. My sister was five years older than I was, my brother was nine years older than I was, and my parents were both talkers. So at the dinner table when I was very young, I was boring to all those other people. They did not want to hear about the dumb childish news of my days. They wanted to talk about really important stuff that happened in high school or maybe in college or at work. So the only way I could get into a conversation was to say something funny. I think I must have done it accidentally at first, just accidentally made a pun that stopped the conversation, something of that sort. And then I found out that a joke was a way to break into an adult conversation.

Kurt Vonnegut, "A man without a country."

When I was in Vancouver in the summer as I was 15, I tried to get into people's conversation with short jokes or "pointers" that make people take attention and smile. When I look back on my desperate efforts I would like to embrace the clumsy in me, in everybody.

I'll beat you up, heat you up, and eat you up!

t was the summer of 1978. I was a freshman at the senior high, and I was being bombarded by Trevor and Randy with English every day.

I sometimes suspect that being exposed to the unrestrained and spontaneous way kids speak might be a necessary process for one's language to mature. When you start learning a foreign language in the restrained and orderly manner typical to an adult, the music of language might remain stagnant.

It then befell on me somehow to cope with the free and dynamic conversation style of Trevor and Randy. After some while, I invented some strategies to counter the dynamo, and make the conversation flow.

I coined some own expressions to impress the kids. Kids respect people with their own words, you know. So I would go, for example, "I'll beat you up", and then follow, "I'll heat you up", and then say, "I'll eat you up", so that the verbs would rhyme.

"I'll beat you up, heat you up, and eat you up!" Trevor and Randy, especially Trevor, got a kick out of my clumsy invention and started to imitate me.

Everything was so unexpected.

When I was 15, I traveled to Vancouver. It was summer. That was the first time that I ever went abroad.

Although I had by then studied English for three years at the junior high, my language skill was still poor.

Verna came to pick me up at the Rembrandt hotel. When we arrived at 7580 Railway avenue, two boys dashed towards us. They were Trevor and Randy.

Trevor and Randy wanted to play with me the moment we arrived. So we played the Game of Life. What followed was the most trying time in the history of my learning English as a second language.

Adults make considerations for the fact that I am not a native English speaker.

Kids don't. Trevor and Randy bombarded me with questions and comments like a rapid fire, and I had to respond in kind. The first ever game of life played in English was a milestone in my upbringing.

Everything was so unexpected.