I had a great idea for this column, yesterday, and, unfortunately, I lost it. Really, it was in my back pocket and somehow it fell out; I have no idea where it went. I'm sure that happens to most of us at one time or another, especially as we get older.
Please, don't make any old jokes. That's my job, this time.
One of my young coworkers calls me "old man," just because I am. I just nod, give an evil grin. He knows I'll get him back, at some point. When he least expects it, I'll sneak up behind him and put him in a headlock or flick the back of his head. I'll just laugh and walk away. Gotcha!
I put all appointments in my phone, with at least two reminders. One is two days before, and one is a day before. Without these, I could forget some important place I have to be.
Whenever I say to my kids, "I don't remember saying that," they reply in a sarcastic manner, "You always say that!" Many times, I honestly don't remember, but sometimes I do it on purpose just to get a reaction from them. They'll just walk away shaking their heads in wonder.
Back when, I could remember faces and names without breaking any gray matter. At one job, two women came in one right after the other and I hadn't seen either of them for over a year. I greeted them both by name, and they were amazed.
Do you know why I remembered them both? I had asked the young, single woman out on a date; she turned down. The older, married woman was just plain annoying. The younger one said no, again, and didn't buy anything. The married woman bought this time thank goodness.
Today, I'm lucky if I can remember what I had for breakfast, never mind names. I may remember faces, and sometimes the name if there was something interesting or annoying about them. Sometimes the body odour (BAD!) or perfume (GOOD!) will shake my mind a little bit into remembering a name or something about them. Generally, it's the annoying women or men I can't forget.
If someone makes a promise to do something, I generally won't forget it. It's when they forget that bugs the living crap out of me, especially if it's during a chatting session on Facebook or something.
My main pet peeve, of all time, is telling the same person one thing, repeatedly, until they finally understand it. I met someone, today, who just couldn't comprehend what I was saying; if I put it any simpler, a child would understood it. I felt bad for his wife, who saw how frustrated I was becoming.
I asked him a couple of simple questions and didn't get an answer. Yet, you ask me the same thing repeatedly and it's okay? I don't think so. Here's you sign!
It's hard to make fun of someone who has a forgetful memory, only because you don't know what they're going through. Are they in the first stages of dementia or Alzheimer's disease, where every day is the same? I don't know how I would handle that. Credit goes to their caregivers for the love, patience and understanding they have.
So please remember one thing; when I tell you I don't remember or don't know something don't assume I have dementia. I'm just a fifty something year old man that just forgets stuff, especially if it isn't that important to me.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Being wasted is a terrible thing too.
Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.
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