There was a time when my recall was sharp as a knife, especially sports. Name every Heisman Trophy winner. Check. What was Babe Ruth’s lifetime batting average? Easy. Who wore #14 on the 1971 Milwaukee Bucks? Got it.
I could even hold my own with history. Who was Button Gwinnett? Know it. What were the years of King Tut’s reign? Uh huh. Which president fulfilled all of his campaign promises: acquiring California from Mexico, settling the Oregon dispute, lowering tariffs, establishing a sub-treasury and retiring from office after one term? Yep.
However, as my laps around the sun click over to 58 in a couple weeks, I no longer have the memory to describe for you what I scored on every hole of every golf course I ever played for the first time.
So… is this the natural process of aging starting to show up on my timeline? Could it be that my mind is so filled with data after nearly six decades that it’s operating slowly? Might I simply be (heaven forbid) slipping?
Whatever the reason, now I not only walk into rooms and forget why I’m there, sometimes I go to a website and can’t remember what I was hoping to find when I clicked.
It will be interesting to see how things progress during the coming years. Everything should be ok when I’m 80, even if I need reminders to take my medication and have to write my address on the inside of my wallet. It’s just the way things are. Heck, who really cares that Jon McGlocklin played alongside Lou Alcindor on those Bucks, Tut reigned from 1332-1323 B.C., and James K. Polk did all that in four short years.
Maybe I just need to forget a bunch of things to defrag my hard drive.
