Memory Loss? If it’s good enough for goldfish it’s good enough for me
|As long as I can remember the taste of beer......|
My memory’s leaking. Every day another fact or word vanishes into the mist. These days I have trouble remembering….damn, what’s the word? Ah, that’s it – things.
It’s annoying. I keep having to change the subject because a name goes. Now what’s his name? Tall guy. Nice suit. Er…. Twenty minutes later, I’ve found it – Barack Obama.
I forget where I put my pens. If I’m lucky I might find them a month later piled up somewhere they shouldn’t be, such as under the spanner in the toolbox. I never use the toolbox. If I’m unlucky they go to the graveyard of words, combs, phone numbers and debit cards which have been lost in action in my life over the last decade.
I went to a Prom concert last week. Mrs K rang to say she didn’t have the tickets. I was entering my finest “Koh! Typical!” mode when it turned out it was me who had brought them. I later found them in a forgotten drawer, along with eighteen pens.
But who cares? I forget the names of annoying people. I don’t have to send them Christmas cards. If someone says something crass or boring, half an hour later – it’s gone. I forget to pay the bills. OK, I keep having to ward off the bailiffs but think of those extra weeks when my bank account is fat.
I can remember the important things. Like the names of all The Animals: Eric Burdon, Alan Price, Hilton Valentine, John Steel and Chas Chandler and no, I didn’t just Google them. I can tell you the storylines of all 13 episodes of “Fawlty Towers” with the full cast. No one can live a full life without those facts at their disposal.
I can even remember Mrs K’s birthday. OK, I admit, it’s tattooed to the inside of my lip.