Ring! Ring!
Who could be calling at this hour?
Oh, right—this hour. Only one person would dare. My old buddy Stan, whose preferred time for a crisis is around 4:00 a.m.
“Stan?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you calling?”
“I forgot.”
“Okay, talk to you later.”
“No, wait—that’s just it. I was going to call you about something, but I forgot what it was.”
“Uh-huh. So you called anyway?”
“Exactly. I need to know—why am I forgetting things?”
Truth is, I’ve been wondering the same thing. Lately, I’ve been forgetting little details—a movie title, a book’s author, or the name of the person who just waved at me in the grocery store.
At least I usually know what I’m forgetting.
When it happens, I rack my brain, chasing the memory, but it stays just out of reach, taunting me. I give up, let it go—and then, wham, it hits me, and I feel like a fool.
As the years pile on, this seems to happen more often.
It’s annoying, sometimes even unsettling. So I share that with Stan.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “It happens to everyone.”
“Maybe, but you’re retired. I’m still working—I can’t afford to lose my memory.”
“I hear you. Let’s test it,” I say. “Who’s on the fifty-dollar bill?”
“Ulysses S. Grant.”
“Nope.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s Alexander Hamilton.”
“You’re losing it. Grant’s on the fifty.”
“Bet you’re wrong. Got a fifty in your wallet?”
“Of course.”
“Check it.”
A moment later, Stan’s back, triumphant. “Told you—you’re losing it. I’m looking at a fifty, and Grant’s staring right at me.”
“Great,” I say, grinning to myself. “By the way, you called to tell me you forgot to pick up bagels for the township meeting this morning. Don’t worry—I knew you’d forget, so I grabbed them last night. And now that I know you’ve got a fifty in your wallet, you can pay me back, no problem.”
“Alright, alright, sorry I called.”
“Stan?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time, remember—there are some things I don’t forget.”
Almost Iowa 
Forgetfulness is a somewhat controversial topic once you hit a certain age. Just saying.
The difference between forgetfulness and dementia was once described as “forgetting you put toast in the toaster is typical, forgetting what a toaster is, is dementia.”
Should I be worried that I’m beginning to identify with Stan????
Identifying with Stan is okay, just don’t call at 4:00 am. 🙂
Good to see Stan is still around. I haven’t heard from Bob for ages…
Stan will be visiting from time to time. He is a wealth of material.
It’ll be good to hear from Stan. I’m not so sure about Bob.
Hahahahahaha!! Gotcha Stan! I loved this. 🙂
It was fun to write.
Good one, Greg. Good to see Stan still needs you.
I see a few more calls from Stan in my future.
I hope so.
What a clever fellow, you are. Grin. Be sure to charge Stan interest! I’d make it like 20% for waking me up at 4. And I too, at 81, have those wonderful memory lapses.
Those memory lapses are worrying, but I suppose they are just part of aging. I think it has a lot to do with being retired. There was nothing like the pressures and demands of the workday to keep one sharp.
Keeping busy doing a variety of interesting things, also helps! I also keep a daily journal that goes back 25 years. If I need to know what I was doing worth remembering in January 20 years ago, I can find it.
For a year or two, I never could remember the name of Google’s Ngram viewer. The only thing that would come to mind was Gumby. I’d have to go to Google and search for ‘program that compares word usage.’ I have no explanation, but Gumby is sort of memorable — like Stan. It’s good to see him back, and in fine form.
I had to look up Gumby. Not that I didn’t know who Gumby was – rather I felt I needed a concise description of what was otherwise malleable.
According to wikipedia:
“Gumby is a blocky green humanoid made of clay”
Hmmmm. “humanoid made of clay” a description that could be applied widely.
(Mic drop!) You are funny!
🙂
Good job making sure you’ll collect. That is, if you remember to ask.
Oh…. I don’t see a problem there. 🙂
Stan–I have missed you so!
Stan has missed you all too. 🙂
You smooth talker, you! Excellent write!
I can’t take credit for the write. It was all my muse’s doing.
Welcome back, Stan! I think a lot of us can relate. When a few of us gather together, someone is always trying to think of a word so we play what we call ‘word charades’ with the rest of us suggesting what the word is based on context. 🙂
Sound like a fun game. Anything to keep the mind sharp.