Memories light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories …
So sang Barbra Streisand who apparently was gifted with a sort of memory flashlight that lit up the corners of my mind. I think I used to have one of those too, but there seems to be some dark corners in my mind that rarely get lit up anymore.
I found my wallet after three days. It was sitting in my basket of pills in a kitchen cupboard. I had forgotten where I put it and apparently also forgot to take my daily pills for three days or I would have found it. The only bright spot, I suppose, is that I am living so frugally (read tightwadedly) these days I barely missed my money and various cards.
This raises a disturbing question in two different ways, both having to do with my memory. One: Why would I put my wallet in the pill bottle basket and think that was the correct place to put it? Two: I take these pills daily so apparently I have not taken my pills in three days or I would have found my wallet before this.
Oh man, this is not good. I am hopeful that the light is not beginning to burn out at the top of the stairs as I don’t know where to buy a replacement bulb.
Hmmm.
I rejoiced, put the wallet in my pocket and headed for a nearby big city to do some drooling over the goodies in an electronics store. But my first stop would be a fast-food restaurant where I planned to try out their new mushroom/bacon melt cheeseburger. I could not wait. I walked into the restaurant but something was different and yet familiar. It took me a while to realize I was standing in line at a popular coffee shop, at the opposite end of the parking lot from the bacon melt dispensary.
This isn’t even funny any more. I finally made it to the right place and had the burger – the best one I have ever tasted in my life. If this keeps going the way it is, I’ll be able to try it for the first time again next week.
But I reached the summit of Mount Fergetevest last week while preparing to do the supper dishes. No one was home of things might have not gotten out of hand.
I ran the hot water full blast in one half of the double sink, put in some dish soap and filled the sink with all the dirty dishes I could find. Then I sat down on the couch in the living room and surfed the Internet – for 90 minutes.
Finally, I walked back into the kitchen to discover the water still running full blast. Where it had once been almost scalding hot, the water was no ice cold. And the only reason disaster was averted is the thin stainless steel wall that keeps the two sinks separate is slightly lower than the sink walls so the billowing water from the first sink ran into the empty sink and drainedW
One thing I notice, when you share forgetting stories with others, in an effort to downplay your concern, they always come back with, “Aw, that’s nothing” and then regale you with stories about how they left their mother-in-law on the roof of the car which they were packing up and then drove away with the old lady still up top or how they left the back door to the house open when they left for vacation and found a family of raccoons living inside on their return.
I know the intent of people such as this is to let you know that memory farts can occur at any age and I know that to be true. Way back in the ’70s, after maybe my worst-ever lost weekend, I misplaced my car for six days. I was afraid to find it in case it was lodged up against a tree somewhere or in a farmer’s field. I was still in my mid twenties when that happened.
I love the story of the most famous actor on the planet not being recognized by a bartender.
“What’ll it be Mac?” says the barkeep.
Shocked, the actor says to him, “Do you know who I am?”
The bartender yells out to the pub population, “Can anybody help this poor bloke? He can’t remember his name.”
©2020 Jim Hagarty
