[ea_blue]

Synopsis: A humorous tale of searching for missing memory, and finding something much different.



I needed to know when the dreaded corporate meeting would start. You know the kind. A bunch of self-centered muckety-mucks gathering around a table to discuss the company's latest problem. This always results in a pattern of "blame-storming" until some poor sap with the least influence and the least to do with the problem gets all the blame. The satisfied attendees will adjourn while the problem remains on the table like a glop of cancerous puss. Uncleaned. Unresolved. Still there.

Thinking about painful farce to come, I stuck my finger in my ear and pulled on my lower lip, while balancing on my right leg. The usual maneuvers required to reboot the memory chip failed. I prodded around just behind my ear. That explained it. The chip wasn't in.

It wasn't on the little table by the door, on the dresser, or on the microwave. If I only had my memory chip handy I would've known where it was. I needed what I already lost to in order to find what I had lost! What ever happened to clappers? I felt again at the slots at the base of my skull. Still forlornly empty. I kept hunting.

Socks, underwear, old restaurant receipts, and tattered coupons for free travel flew about the room as I whirled through my cushy, upscale apartment. All the drawers hung open. Various items of clothing and remnants of documents drooped over the edges of over-turned furniture. It had to be somewhere! I mean I last had it...can't remember. That was on the chip.

I checked my watch. The company meeting was coming up soon. But I still didn't know the start time. That made me think about my calendar. So I stuck my right thumb in my mouth and pulled at the skin of my right eye with my left pinkie finger. This is what I had to do to access the files on my memory chip. The action brought up a visual overlay on my retina ( that means I could see it but no one else could ). That provided a file listing that I could point to and select with my left index finger, in the air, but only while grabbing my left butt-cheek with my right hand. Of course, the visual never came up because...ah...gimme a sec...oh yeah, because the flipping memory chip was still missing!

Sounds stupid, eh? Let me tell you it was typical. This is the way it was when implantable chips first started out. The only command protocol that worked reliably was Kinesthetic-Usage for Retrievable Systems Erudition ( KURSE ). You see at the time, no one completely understood the way people and machines worked together. Thinking a certain thing or moving certain way could always be relied upon to fire neurons a certain way. The memory chips took advantage of that. But to be sure you didn't accidentally fire a command sequence while sipping your Starbucks coffee, you had to do something unusual. And that's why I went through all the crazy motions. Nobody would dream of doing such things in ordinary behavior. And that's why the KURSE protocol worked.

My KURSE protocol wasn't doing diddly for me just now, so I grabbed my coat and left the apartment. There was an outside chance I left the chip at the coffee shop. Why would I take out the chip there, you ask? That first jolt of caffeine in the morning really fires off a chaotic string of neural impulses. Sometimes they just happen to match the control impulses for your chip. You could easily wipe the whole thing if you weren't careful.

So I trudged down the sidewalk heading for my favorite coffee shop. It was right over...no. Hold on a sec. It was down this block...no. It was...well, frack! The address was on the stupid memory chip! I was going to be late for the meeting and I didn't know when. Come to think of it I didn't even know what the fricking meeting was about! Well, I had to do something. So I just started walking.

I passed a young woman standing by a taxi cab. She had her pump heel in her left hand and was pulling her hair so that her head flopped backward. A couple of old ladies were passing her and they commented on how goofy she looked. Rubes! I snorted. The young woman was obviously taking an international call on her implanted phone. Those old ladies had no idea how silly they sounded!

I continued my walk, having no idea what else to do. Without my chip I had no structure. The constant dings and bells of schedule reminders failed to keep me on track. No news items, no spam, no advertisements clamored for my attention. I was really and truly lost. But then I smelled something. What was it? Reflexively, I stuck my thumb in my mouth and pulled on...well, that wasn't going to work. And then it came to me. Freshly mown grass. Ah! What a treat. I hadn't smelled that in years.

In fact, I had wandered to the park I used to play in as kid. Long before anyone in my family could afford the chips. I recognized a tree about a 100 meters into the park. Smiling, I headed for it. That was the tree where I kissed Sarah Patterson on the mouth. It was exciting for me because I thought I was the aggressive one. Then she grabbed my butt and pulled me closer for an even deeper kiss. I realized she was the aggressor and had lured me there for much more. My nine-year old boy's mind freaked and I bolted.

I smiled at the memory. Off to my right, there used to be a stand where, as a kid, I bought ice cream and sodas with my lunch money. I stopped where I was and stared. The old stone facing was still there. Ivy still grew up the wooden wickerwork at the front. The rusting, old-time waterpump still stood off to the side. The wet cement at it's base brought back hot summer days, ice-cream, and water balloon fights.

My body wanted to go there while my mind dawdled. My legs turned me and walked me closer, as if in a dream. The sign out front no longer read "Tad's Treats". Now it had something in Kanji characters and the words, "Bonny Bonsai". I walked up to the entrance as someone inside shouted, "Farkin' shite!"

That was how I met, Patrick Hiromatsu. A mixed Irish/Japanese who loved Bonsai Trees. He loved working with them because he said they relaxed him. When I got there he obviously needed help with that. He was a southpaw who had accidentally slammed a car door on his left hand. Most of it was in a cast. And that prevented him from properly handling the tree-trimming clippers.

I stood in the doorway with my mouth hanging open. Shelves of miniature, beautiful Bonsai trees covered the walls. A smile crept across my face. I had never bothered to really look at Bonsai trees in person. The Human ideal of beauty merged with the natural beauty of nature and produced something of heart-warming elegance. I breathed in the scent of fresh earth and water merged with growing things. Forgetting all about the memory chip, I sighed the happy sigh of someone finally finding that ethereal, "it".

Patrick sighed too, but his came from frustration. He reached up to run his hand through his hair. The cast on his hand got in the way and rammed into his forehead. "Ow!" He moaned. He reached up to rub the spot and hit it again with the cast. "Ai!" He shouted. Turns out he was profoundly left-handed.

I shouldn't have but I couldn't resist saying, "Need a hand?"

"Haha, smartguy, " muttered Patrick. "You here to buy a tree or just yank my chain?"

I held up my hands to show no harm intended. Chuckling, I said, "No. Just stopped to see your place. Your work is just gorgeous,"

"Yeah?" He smiled wanly. "Thanks, man. Any chance you were serious about that help offer?"

"Sure!" I said. Wearing a child-like grin.

He pointed to a dusty, wicker chair beside him. "Take these clippers and clip where I tell you. I need to get this one ready for a customer who'll be here soon. Do this and I'll give you a free one from over on that table." The table held a collection of the most beautiful, cute trees I had ever seen.

One called out to me in particular, like a long-lost brother. It's delicate trunk zig-zagged back and forth. One branch extended far to one side, gracefully, like a dancer. Small clay sculptures of old men sharing a laugh at tea, lounged in the shade of the puffy boughs of the Bonsai. I wanted to be one of those men. Relaxed and happy in a simple moment with simple joys. I learned later that this was a Juniper tree. A "juniper procumbens nana." It was so beautiful, and I was being invited to be part of the creation of it. I jumped at the chance.

Half an hour later, the job was done. Patrick looked at me with this odd expression. "What? I hope I didn't screw it up for you," I said. Patrick smirked in that odd sideways he manner he had. "No, you didn't. And that really freaks me out. You did it perfectly. First time! You aren't at all Japanese are you?"

Well, I'm not, but that hardly mattered. Patrick's hand never did heal up correctly. His livelihood was threatened. So I stayed on. I potted Bonsai trees and trimmed them until they became the perfect little works of art that Patrick wanted. He couldn't pay me much, but it was enough to afford a small apartment converted from a garage. Nearby the park.

Every now and then I see the young woman I saw that first day. She still takes a lot of international calls. Arching her back so tantalizingly every time. It's especially great on cold days. But I only watch from afar. I wouldn't date a goofy woman like her.

I suppose I lost my job. I never bothered to check. My cushy, upscale apartment probably got rented out to some other corporate dweeb. And if you're the new renter who happens to find my stupid, useless, missing memory chip; you can keep it.

[purpulfantom]

This was quite an enjoyble tale. I understood what was happening (even if our forgetful friend didn't), which is something that can be a little hard with science fiction, as you've got to both make up a world, then let it flow onto the page.

Writing this in the style of the character's thought process is something that I like to see when done well, and I think that this satisfies the criteria of "done well".

Nonetheless, there were some things a little"iffy".

So I trudged down the sidewalk heading for my favorite coffee shop. It was right over...no. Hold on a sec. It was down this block...no. It was...well, frack! The address was on the stupid memory chip! I was going to be late for the meeting and I didn't know when.

The last sentence doesn't tally with the rest of that paragraph, and even if it did, it doesn't make sense. Consider something like "I was going to be late for the meeting and I didn't even know when it was!" However, that's just this reviewer's opinion.

Aside from isolated bits of phrasing, this is a very well written piece (although considering that this is "Advanced Writings", and I've been hanging around on fanfic sites for a year, that should come as no surprise). With a few minor tweaks, I would argue that this is publishable.

[ea_blue]

Good catch, purpulfantom! I would agree that the sentence doesn't quite fit.

How about this as a replacement paragraph:

"So I trudged down the sidewalk heading for my favorite coffee shop. It was right over...no. Hold on a sec. It was down this block...no. It was...well, frack! The address was on the stupid memory chip! If didn't find the coffee shop, and hopefully find the chip too, I would probably miss the meeting. Come to think of it I didn't even know what the fricking meeting was about! Well, I had to do something. So I just started walking."

If there's anything else you think is iffy, I'd be happy to hear it.

Thanks so much for your comments!

Cheers!

ea_blue

[shey]

I like the pacing of this story, from a harried lifestyle to a slower one.
It's a reminder, not to rely too much on technological advancements and simply enjoy what nature has to offer.
As the saying goes, "stop and smell the flowers".

The only command protocol that worked reliably was Kinesthetic-Usage for Retrievable Systems Erudition ( KURSE ).

However you came up with this acronym description- keep it coming because it's hilarious! I like the pun there.

Like the way you injected humor here. Kudos!

Totally agree with purpulfantom , this story's publishable.

[jerH]

That was great! A minor nit:

Thinking about painful farce to come, I stuck my finger in my ear and pulled on my lower lip, while balancing on my right leg.

Should be "Thinking about the painful farce..." Told you it was a nit.

Also

That was how I met, Patrick Hiromatsu.

The comma shouldn't be there. And the sentence itself is a bit awkward. I can't put my finger on why, but it seemed a bit jarring in the otherwise smooth flow of the story.

Love the acronym....as someone who's done a lot of work for the government, I appreciate a good acronym! Did you start with it or the words?

The concept was great, and I particularly liked he juxtaposition of high-tech neural implants and ancient bonsai trees.

Can't wait to read more....

[purpulfantom]

I think this story needs mostly nitpicking, rather than anything major. This is the advantage of having a bunch of readers who can get back to you on it!

And that new paragraph is great. Now it fits.

[ea_blue]

Thanks purpulfantom. Yes, this whole process is working out well. It's good to get feedback. Glad you like the new paragraph.

Thanks, jerH for another catch. I don't know why, but I have a habit of leaving out entire words. *sigh* That might have been the result of one to many Racer 5 IPAs (forced down my throat by an evil force, of course...).

Here is the original of the part you feel is rough:

I walked up to the entrance as someone inside shouted, "Farkin' shite!"

That was how I met, Patrick Hiromatsu. A mixed Irish/Japanese who loved Bonsai Trees.

See if this sounds smoother:
"I walked up to the entrance as someone inside shouted, "Farkin' shite!"

The sound of Irish cursing mirrored my earlier frustration and introduced me to Patrick Hiromatsu. A mixed Irish/Japanese who loved Bonsai Trees."

Thanks for the feedback!

ea_blue

[jerH]

Originally Posted by ea_blue

Thanks purpulfantom. Yes, this whole process is working out well. It's good to get feedback. Glad you like the new paragraph.

Thanks, jerH for another catch. I don't know why, but I have a habit of leaving out entire words. *sigh* That might have been the result of one to many Racer 5 IPAs (forced down my throat by an evil force, of course...).

Here is the original of the part you feel is rough:


See if this sounds smoother:
"I walked up to the entrance as someone inside shouted, "Farkin' shite!"

The sound of Irish cursing mirrored my earlier frustration and introduced me to Patrick Hiromatsu. A mixed Irish/Japanese who loved Bonsai Trees."

Thanks for the feedback!

ea_blue

That's better....Keep up the good work!

[Achele]

ea,

I passed a young woman standing by a taxi cab. She had her pump heel in her left hand and was pulling her hair so that her head flopped backward. A couple of old ladies were passing her and they commented on how goofy she looked. Rubes! I snorted. The young woman was obviously taking an international call on her implanted phone. Those old ladies had no idea how silly they sounded!

Absolutely loved this foreshadowing.

I smiled at the memory. Off to my right, there used to be a stand where, as a kid, I bought ice cream and sodas with my lunch money. I stopped where I was and stared. The old stone facing was still there. Ivy still grew up the wooden wickerwork at the front. The rusting, old-time waterpump still stood off to the side. The wet cement at it's base brought back hot summer days, ice-cream, and water balloon fights.

This is a great story, I love how after loosing his chip he gets his real memory back. Wonder which one of your peices I'm gonning to find next? I'm sure It will be a treat!

[PonywithSnacks]

"One called out to me in particular, like a long-lost brother. It's delicate trunk zig-zagged back and forth. One branch extended far to one side, gracefully, like a dancer. Small clay sculptures of old men sharing a laugh at tea, lounged in the shade of the puffy boughs of the Bonsai. I wanted to be one of those men. Relaxed and happy in a simple moment with simple joys. I learned later that this was a Juniper tree. A "juniper procumbens nana." It was so beautiful, and I was being invited to be part of the creation of it. I jumped at the chance."

I read this paragraph 3 times - I think it's really great. Thanks for the story!

[ea_blue]

Thanks very much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Cheers!

[Vorcla]

Nice job - rib tickler, as usual. I sometimes wonder if we're not too far away from that, where everything we are is on a chip.

I think too much!

[Zoidberg]

Good Story. It reminds me almost of the writing style of Douglas Adams, with Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

I liked the humor you used. Its sounds like a pretty good description of what the future would be like.

I didn't spot any mistakes. Good Job.

[Razor]

You know I was in a "helpful" mood, so I was combing for something with "potential" that with a little "refining" could be great. I started into this and before I knew it I was finished.

Nothing hung me up or stood out as "there could be a better way to write this." It was great!

I loved the humor (KRUSE was great) and the underlying theme was good as well. This was just a great read. Solid throughout. I never felt like the strength of the writing waned, which is hard, especially if its written in multiple sittings.

Great Job, please keep it up. I didn't get what I came for, but I loved what I found.

[timtornado3721]

A great story with a lot of good dry humor which I agree, this is distinctly Douglas Adams. The acronym KURSE was a smart addition to your story. How long did it take you to get that one just right?

[RENA HANDS]

I think..Thinking a certain thing or moving (a) certain way could always be relied upon to fire neurons a certain way. (You could use ‘particular’ in place of the (a) at the ending of your sentence.)

Wouldn’t it be ‘scheduled,’ here…The constant dings and bells of (scheduled) reminders failed to keep me on track.

Maybe…In fact, I had wandered (into) the park…

Also, (There) was the tree where I (had) kissed Sarah Patterson on the mouth.

Maybe…I thought I (had been) the aggressive one…OR…I thought I (had been) the aggressor.

I think…The wet cement at (its) base brought back hot summer days,

What about saying…I breathed in the (aroma) of fresh earth and water merged with growing things.

Does this sentence warrant a period? Your work is just gorgeous(.)?

Wonderful, simply Marvelous. The way you combined humor and the ‘real’ corporate world, BRILLIANT! Of course I enjoyed all the other details, but it’s the comedy and lightness of the story that I will truly remember.

I give a rating of 4/5.

[ea_blue]

Thanks for the review, Rena! I'll review and look for the spots you pointed out. Glad you liked it.

I'm working on another one now that's in the same vein.

Cheers!