The weather forecast for my vicinity is foggy with a chance of confusion.
Do you ever find yourself trying to think and nothing happens?
More astute mental health professionals you see on Fox, CNN or MSNBC call this “CRS” or “Can’t Remember Shit.”
Now, where was I?
What happens to our minds in middle age and beyond that hinders our ability to remember such simple things? When we are 40, we tend to write it off as nothing more than being overwhelmed by work, career, kids, and more. Too much agenda.
When you crest the sixties, memory becomes more of a concern—yet, what can you really do about it? Always some baby boomer targeted commercial for memory improvement supplements. None of it proven, of course. And – I never had memory to begin with. You can remember useless minutia, such as the color of your house shutters from fifty years ago, yet you cannot remember what you had for breakfast this morning.
What the hell is that?
Perhaps, you’re in front of a group giving a presentation and your mind goes completely blank—not because you have to pee, but because your mind just went blank amid an important fiscal meeting with the company bosses. Everyone laughs because it is happening to you—yet, you walk out of the meeting feeling foolish. The best you can hope for is you will not be able to remember the meeting tomorrow.
Memory is a fleeting element isn’t it?
Sure is, because I’m trying to remember what I was going to say next.
I think the UFO’s came and got it.
Today is a Saturday—9:40 a.m. to be specific. I still remember how to tell time. To be more specific, I cannot remember exactly what I had planned for today. A big housecleaning project… Yeah, that’s it. It was easy to forget that one because it involved my having to scrub a shower that hasn’t been touched in—well—I forget…
Scrubbing the shower was an easy one to forget.
Vacuuming and mopping the floors? Another easy one to forget.
I believe I will think about that tomorrow.
Names… Whatever happened to the ability to remember a person’s name? Or, where I put something a minute ago. How is it possible to forget the name of someone you’ve known for 30 years? Or, your best friend’s telephone number? Or—heaven forbid, your Social Security number?
Worse yet—your home telephone number!!!
What’s with that?
It isn’t all that often we call ourselves, which makes that one forgivable. However, if you forget to call your significant other to tell them you’re gonna be late, that could backfire badly—especially if you waltz in at 1 a.m. and they’ve been wondering where you’ve been.
Going to be hard to explain that one.
It’s like that episode of Dick Van Dyke (Antonio Stradivarius) where Rob gets hit on the head with a violin in a skit rehearsal and suffers from temporary amnesia. He winds up in a party—miles from Alan Brady’s penthouse apartment in Manhattan where he was supposed to be and his home in New Rochelle living it up with a blonde who was scarcely aware of her own existence. Then, he regains his memory, lost and confused on where he is and attempts to drive home. When he gets home, Laura, obviously very upset, wants to know why he never called. His response? “I didn’t think of it…”
That didn’t win him any points and he wound up on the sofa.
Isn’t this how you feel at times? Just didn’t think of it let alone remember it?
Have you ever been cruising down the freeway on the way home from work and wondered how you got to that particular spot on the freeway? Man, did I just drive 25 miles in my sleep? WTH? Or, worse yet, you pull up in the driveway with no memory of the entire journey. Worst case scenario—you pull up in the driveway of a similar tract house, put the key in the lock and it doesn’t work. Then—call a locksmith to come let you in and you’re arrested for breaking and entering. What’s more, it’s not even your street.
Now, there’s something to share with the grand kids and your new minister.
I own an Oxford White Ford F-150 Super Cab pickup. You see yourself coming and going because Oxford White has to be the most popular F-150 color. Plumbers. Electricians. Construction contractors. Municipalities.
It is endless.
White F-150 trucks are everywhere.
It isn’t surprising I was coming out of a mall, walked up to an Oxford White F-150, hit the keypad and the damned thing didn’t unlock the doors. Figuring my keypad battery was dead, I tried the lock. What’s with my key—it doesn’t work?! I walked to the back bumper to discover a different license plate number. Befuddled, I looked all around the parking lot to discover my truck was seven spaces away. I looked all around the parking lot to see if anyone saw me looking stupid.
Where did I leave my glasses? That’s a popular one. Looked all over the house—the bathroom (library), the kitchen table, out to the garage. Nothing… Walk into the living room and look in the mirror. They’re on my head.
I’m hungry… Just ate breakfast an hour ago…
Rushed to get to the airport in Atlanta to make a flight home to Los Angeles. Walked up to the Delta Air Lines ticket counter with luggage in tow. Handed the agent our tickets and identification, and waited for boarding passes. The Delta agent, looking baffled, said, “You’re rather early, aren’t you?” “What do you mean?” “You’re scheduled to Los Angeles tomorrow night at this time…” The Delta agent, a kind and forgiving soul, booked the first flight to LAX the next morning.
Ever done something this forgetful?
Logged in at my doctor’s office. Sat down in the waiting room. The receptionist called my name and I thought – wow that was fast. She advised me I was a month early for my appointment. Well, at least I was punctual.
I’ve ordered stuff from Amazon and, the next day wondered where my order was not realizing less than 24 hours had passed. Lord…
The most popular memory lapse for most of us is walking into a room to grab something and forgetting what the “something” was. Feeling defeated, we walk out of the room discouraged over wasted energy going there in the first place. Sometimes, we retrace our footsteps in hopes we remember.
It’s 3 a.m. the next morning. Everyone in the house is sound asleep. You’re in a sleepy mental fog—yet can remember what you went into the room for. You quietly tippy-toe into your son’s bedroom trying to be quiet—and stub your ingrown toenail on the dresser, waking your kid and causing quite a stir in the middle of the night.
You feeling decidedly foolish?
You’re in good company because a while lot of us struggle with the same thing.
Few things are more humbling than reminding your child or grandchild to flush the toilet – only to discover you’re one who forgot to flush.
There’s always a certain amount of pleasure in hearing the young being forgetful with the same senior moments seniors have. It gives us hope because memory is the darnedest thing in all of us at all ages.
Now, if only I could remember what I was going to say next.