However, my problems with my memory are further complicated by the fact that while I don't have any recollection of things I have actually done, I have very vivid recollections of loads of things that I haven't done.
Sometimes I get off stage, and I almost have no recollection of what happened. It's almost like a trance; it's very bizarre.
I proceed with the proper subject of this discourse; namely, the further changes in scientific belief, which have occurred within my own recollection, even since the time when I first aspired to authorship, now forty- five years ago.
My friend Quincy Jones says we won our first Grammys together in 1963. I have no recollection. I don't even remember the room. When he showed me the picture, I remembered what I wore. But it's like awards don't mean anything.
I do have a vague recollection of reviving the cover of The Beatles' 'Every Little Thing,' but I don't know if that was just our riffing on it in rehearsal. I don't think we ever did it actually in the show.
One can never be sure whether a very early memory is a real memory or just the recollection of something which you were told happened.
I couldn't tell you my wedding anniversary (although I seem to remember it was in June. Or maybe July. Definitely a month beginning with a 'J,' anyhow. But not January. Um. I think) and people I went to school with get extremely fed up with me when I bump into them in the street and have absolutely no recollection of their faces.
My main recollection is of the work I had to do in order to eat.
When do you suppose the electric guitar was invented? If you thought the 1950s, you'd be wrong. If you can muster a recollection of hearing electric guitar in Lionel Hampton's big band in the 1940s and date it to that decade, you'd still be off - by more than 30 years.
I have always been honest about my recollection of events.
