Spring cleaning and moonwalking with Einstein

Randi Kreiss

I was thinking about spring cleaning this week, which I do every year at this time (think about it), and I realized that I’d prefer a more philosophical, let’s say cerebral, form of cleaning out the cobwebs.

I Googled spring cleaning and discovered that I not only lack the inclination for the job, but the tools of the trade. I haven’t seen the attachments to my vacuum in 30 years. I think my last dog ate one of the small brushes, and all the other hoses seem just too difficult to master while I’m trying to figure out my new phone, which is aptly named “smart.”

One website suggests removing all light fixtures and bulbs and gently washing and drying them before replacing them. This presupposes that the bulbs didn’t burn out years ago, a big assumption in our household. Taking down drapes is another chore I don’t get. I take down the drapes when I move, and that’s about every 45 years if we keep up this pace. I say if you don’t move the drapes too vigorously, they will keep their secrets.

Household tidiness has always been associated with a kind of shipshape morality, not to mention godliness. This concept, I submit, is absurdly dated. When women didn’t go out to work, it was fine to stay home and dust the picture frames. But since there has been no discernible evolution in men’s willingness to clean and organize the medicine cabinet when the azaleas bloom, I say spring cleaning, as a concept, needs an overhaul.

What a coincidence, then, that I recently came upon and quickly fell in love with “Moonwalking With Einstein,” Joshua Foer’s new book about memory — adding to the storeroom of facts and images in our brains and cleaning out the old memories that no longer serve a purpose. Case in point: Do I really need to remember all the words to “Big Girls Don’t Cry” anymore? Did I ever?