The Things I Don't Know

My mother once joked there could be an encyclopedia series on the things I don't know. General stuff, everyday stuff, but things I never thought to ask. I didn't know until a couple of weeks ago that my dad was in college in 1974. I mean I KNEW, because I knew his age and relatively when he would have been in college, but I saw a picture of him in one of the old Centenary year books and I was just guffawed. And I never knew that. I remember in kindergarten the teacher went around to each student to get their personal information. The teacher got to me and asked, "What's your mom and dad's name?" I said, what? "What are their names?" Mom and Dad? It had never occurred to me that they might have other names like I had a name, was this something I was supposed to have asked? Then she asked, "What's your address?" I didn't know. I was five years old and I didn't know anything about my basic existence. That night I went home and drilled my mom about anything she knew that I might need to know. Even at five, it created a huge anxiety in me that I didn't know. Just not knowing or the knowing that there was something I should know. For some reason I just never thought about it, or never thought to ask questions. It really bothered me, and still bothers me, that there are things I SHOULD know, questions I SHOULD ask, and just never did, and apparently everyone else and their mother knew the questions to ask to know the answers that were important. I mean, isn't that kind of crazy? To this day I don't know, off the top of my head: my mother's birthday, my father's birthday, my oldest sister's birthday, where my parents grew up, where my mom went to college, when my parents got married, LOTS OF THINGS! Lots of things that people just know, regular everyday things that regular people think to ask, and I never did. What does that mean? I mean, I feel like that's an incredibly relevant worry to have, especially given the things I do know. Random things I picked up from books, from movies, from TV. I know stories about my family, I know lots and lots of random facts, but I don't even know exactly what my father did for a living the 15 years I knew him. There are worse things to know, or not know. It is just an incredibly loud hypocritical voice in my head whenever I hear someone say something stupid. My aunt said, "...half the movie they would talk American and then the other half they would talk Italian..." Or those idiots they show on Late Night talk shows who don't know the vice president's name or the words to the star spangled banner. Ya, they're stupid and uninvolved in society or culture, but I bet they know where their parents went to college, or at least their birthdays. I mean, duh, people can't know everything, but logistical things- dates, times- they are beyond me. I can quote any number of movies, books, plays, songs and I could give you a really good run for your money on trivial pursuit, but ask me how many siblings my grandmother had and I can only guess. This whole personal crisis is made even more ironic considering what a phobia I have for forgetting things, having things lost in history. And I hate history.