Do you find yourself forgetting things? Do you forget words that you’ve known all your life?
I notice that sort of thing happening to me lately, though, to be truthful, I can’t say it’s anything new. I’ve been a forgetful sort all my life and I’m glad to say my son is carrying on the family tradition.
Even as a small kid he might come home without his new jacket.
Where did you leave it?
Maybe it’s just something genetic. I don’t know, but it happened to me today again. I was caught up in the middle of something when when it crossed my mind that I needed a particular book, so I jumped up and headed for the stairs. (That’s where I keep my little library).
Wait a minute. What am I looking for? Why am I standing here?
Shit. I stand forlorn as the coloured cog-wheels in my head mesh and grind. Go back, they say. Return to the place whence you came.
And so I did, and so I immediately remembered precisely which tome I required, where it was on the shelf and even what its ISBN number was.
No, that last bit isn’t true. I made it up.
But to return to the difficulty, let me ask you this: is it just me or does everyone have senior moments? Do you forget things? I do it all the time these days. I forget words. I forget the names of things. Sometimes, I even forget the names of the people I’m sending my henchmen to assassinate which is not a good development. I’m a decent man and it isn’t in my nature to assassinate somebody who doesn’t deserve it.
But, em, ah, eh, what were we talking about again?
Oh, yeah. Forgetting stuff. Well, you see it isn’t easy to stay focussed when your horizon extends beyond five seconds, and that’s why I bought a goldfish. We seem to be in perfect harmony, this little piscean friend and I.
One thing you can say about goldfish: they don’t hold a grudge.
Sharks are an entirely different proposition, as anyone who read or watched Jaws will tell you. They’ll track you down and kill you on the spot like the dog you are just for looking at them crooked. They have no respect for God nor man, although in fairness to sharks, most of the time they won’t follow you in packs across the ice of the frozen arctic waste. No. That’s not really a shark thing and besides, they do tend to forget what they were doing, most of the time. Unless, of course, you happen to be sitting in a small fishing boat sharing stories of how you acquired horrible scars on your leg. When you do that sort of thing, you can expect to be assaulted by a gigantic, homicidal shark but it doesn’t happen all that often.
You see? I’m losing track, and not only that. I can’t even remember the point I was trying to make.
Years ago, when I was a child and I couldn’t remember my point, my mother had a simple answer: it was probably a lie. But would I lie to you? Of course not. I’ve never lied to you in all these years, though I might well have cursed at you.
We were talking about forgetting, so I suppose it might be no harm to keep discussing the act of misremembering, but to be honest with you I don’t want to. It was just one of those random posts where you blurt out whatever is on your mind, or in this case, what isn’t on your mind, since it’s a post about being utterly absent.
Or to put it another way, this is about forgetting the utter nonsense we’re subjected to these days. Complete, unadulterated rubbish. Sometimes, an empty head isn’t such a bad idea.