About Old Brains
Memory is a strange thing. What portion of life gets stored away on the hard drive, what gets put into the trash, how much memory is actually useable in the here and now?
Questions for the sagacious, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth throwing my feeble hat into the ring.
Last night is a perfect example. I got home from a particularly taxing shift on the stage, around 2 in the am. Just about to throw my feet up and someone knocks on my door. I wasn’t scared but startled, because my building is really hard to get into.
Anyway, it was my next door neighbor and some girls. No, this isn’t going to be some weird story ripped from a film reel of Caligula.
They wanted to have a drink and hang out. So we did. Pleasant enough and that was that. I went back to my domicile and zonked out and didn’t give it another thought.
Here’s the thing though. I’d already met these people, and it took me thirty minutes or so to remember. Besides being awkward—okay, that’s just awkward. Yeah, months back, we apparently bumped into each other and got to talking outside the building.
Couldn’t remember until I did. This wasn’t an omission born out of drinking or something like that—maybe I’m just getting old. Maybe I have to interact with too many people and I’m not valuing each experience with its proper due. Maybe it’s not such a big deal.
Probably not. But I hope the old gray matter isn’t sliding into oblivion just yet. I need it to hold on for a couple more years; I still have to pay off that chair I bought from Crate and Barrel. Their stuff is really expensive. See you after. Cheers.