My Memory Has a Name. 2015-12-16

Brain1My memory isn’t like an old friend it literally is a pair of old friends called Bing and Google. They are there whenever and wherever I am like Linus’s security blanket. A question arises, a thought is conceived, can’t quite figure out how to spell a word, don’t know the name of that actor in that comedy? My old friends rarely let me down.

What was the name of that movie that had Sally in it, or Harry, I think? Oh, here it is: When Harry Met Sally. Oh, of course, that’s it. Bing says it was released in 1989. Wow, hard to believe it’s been over a quarter century. The Director was Meathead, right? Yep, it lists Rob Reiner and the whole cast here. I miss Bruno Kirby. It says he passed away at only 57 in 2006. Sad.

How do you fix a garbage disposal? Wow, Google makes it sound like I should call a professional. Do you know who around here does that kind of work? Are there any references or reviews of that plumber?

Say, would you like to go to Springfield today? What was the name of that Irish Pub the kids love? You know, the one with the famous horseshoes? I have a list of some places here. Oh, this one sounds familiar. It must be the one because the menu features horseshoes. Want to go? Just a second, I’m pulling up the directions to the place.

The doctor changed my medication to this other drug. It says here there are some pretty serious side effects. Oh, and it’s pronounced way different than I thought.

What time does the store close on Sundays? I need to go grab some milk. Well, better get down there. It closes in 45 minutes.

Man, it looks like there’s some trouble with the Los Angeles schools today. A terror threat? Quick, pull up the news.

Remember the days when you had to go to the library for research, refer to the cumbersome volume of encyclopedias on the shelf in the family room, call your friends to ask if they knew the math assignment or remembered the name of someone or the location of something? I used to listen to my Dad in his aging years try to get through a conversation and get stuck trying to remember the name of something. He’d blank out in the middle of a sentence trying to remember, then eventually say, “Oh well, I suppose it doesn’t really matter.” Then we’d all try to help with the answer by throwing out suggestions and the response would be, “No, not that.” Our brains would then be cranking and after a while would too draw a blank. We think it’ll come to us eventually. The thought of trying to recall whatever it was gnawed away at you. Then, in the middle of the night it finally dawned on you what the answer was; but you now have to wait until morning to call and tell him the answer. You know, soooo last century.

Nowadays when someone draws a blank a/k/a me, the communication devices comes out and our old friends are summoned. Sure there’s silence in the room while the searches commence; but then like a dream from a crystal ball, the answer appears and the conversation is allowed to continue without that nagging thought boring a hole in your brain while you try to recall that which may never again appear on your mindless landscape.

My days are allowed to progress unencombered by referring to my diverse, highly educated, really dumb, angelic, mad as hell, informed, misinformed, selfless, self-absorbed pocket memory friends. They are my dictionary, encyclopedia, map, game solver, math wiz, doc in a box, trivial pursuit, and just about anything you want to know. Just ask them… Sandy

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