A State of Mind

Hey. It's me again. Hard to think I was half thirty when I wrote this. Already going wacko then. Completely wacko now!

Senility is an interesting state of mind. I know. I am getting there. I made it to my mid-30s (yesiree Bobbo! as Julie would say) two days ago and am now feeling the effects.

I find myself gazing at my friend Mary with mild interest when she says:

"Yes, and you were saying?"

"I was saying...?"

"Yes, you know, just now, you were talking about..."

"I was talking about?"

Her nostrils start to flare a little. What are we, a vaudeville act? I continue to look mildly inquiring, sort of like a friendly cow.

"You know about MPH? The presents? You were saying something..."

I root around in my mind for any possible connection. MPH. The bookstore. You know, lots of books. I was saying something about lots of books? What could I have been saying about lots of books? That I like to read? But everyone knows that. What else? Presents? I thought I told her I was making my presents this year.

And then a dim candle goes off in my head. Oh yeah, now I remember. I relate my pithy anecdote. She nods in all the right places, satisfied. God is once more in His Heaven. And all is right with the world.

And then, this happens again, about 10 minutes later. Distract me for one a half seconds and I find myself gawping like a friendly goldfish. (I don't know what gawping is, but I like the sound of it)

When it happens the third time, Mary, who is about 15 years older and has more right to senility, tells me I had better start writing things down. So as not to forget. Although some things are best forgotten. I agree wholeheartedly. She waits for me to remove my ever present notebook and fountain pen from my bag so I can make a start.

She waits.

I stare into space.

She waits.

I stare into space.

She taps her foot.

I stare into space.

"Angel child?"

"Yes?" I turn to her. Mild inquiring surprise at the slight impatience in her tone.

"The notebook?"

"What notebook?"

"You were going to write things down..."

"I was?"

"AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

"Are you feeling all right?"

She starts to tear her hair out.

I continue to gaze at her with (you got it!) mild inquiring surprise.

"I give up, I give up, I give up!"

I try to remember what we were talking about. No cigar.

So I resume my examination of the air in front of me.

Senility is an interesting state of mind.