By Now, I'm a Expert at Memory Loss

Written by David Leonhardt

Continued from page 1

I, onrepparttar other hand, find it traumatic to meet old people. One reason I work from home, sitting in front of a computer screen, might be to avoid too many stand-up receptions trying to rememberrepparttar 118163 names of strangers I'm supposed to know. I just can't remember their names.

It's not totally true. I can often remember names, I just can't seem to attach them to faces, which I hear is a common problem. Like many people, my brain-glue was recalled for factory defects. I should have opened that recall notice when it arrived.

One game you can play to help attach names to faces is pin-the-name-on-the-donkey. This works great for people with defective brain-glue, because it uses ins instead of glue. I suggest you do this in your mind, not inrepparttar 118164 actual reception room. Many people object to having things pinned to their faces, and a few might even object to being called donkeys. Most importantly, you could be in violation of local safety ordinances, especially if you use a stapler.

Another common strategy many people use to remember names is to repeatrepparttar 118165 person's name several times. However, I think that sounds a bit silly.

"And who are you?"

"It's Trina."

"Hi Trina, how are you?"

"Just great. How arerepparttar 118166 kids?"

"Trina,repparttar 118167 kids are doing very well. How are yours?"

"I don't have kids."

"I see, Trina."

"After meeting every month at this function forrepparttar 118168 past decade, I thought you would remember that I have no kids. Byrepparttar 118169 way, why do you keep repeating my name?"

Perhaps meeting people is less traumatic than being born. At least I do remember meeting people, and not always waking up in a cold sweat. And I do remember their names. And I do remember their faces. And I even remember a few of their birthdays. But try as I might, I don't remember any of them being born.

Now, what was I going to write about this week? I just can't remember.

David Leonhardt is a humor columnist: Read more humor and funny stories: Read quotes on happiness: Read more on aging gracefully


Written by Rev. James L. Snyder

Continued from page 1

For several weeks packs of luncheon meat were found opened, with one bite taken out andrepparttar pack replaced. This confused everyone inrepparttar 118162 store so they kept a watch forrepparttar 118163 perpetrator.

Finally, someone spotted Claire opening a pack of luncheon meat. She took a bite, carefully closed it up and put it back.

I agreed withrepparttar 118164 manager that, forrepparttar 118165 good ofrepparttar 118166 other customers, they should not allow Claire back inrepparttar 118167 store. We ordered meals-on-wheels for her and my wife and I often brought her a bag of groceries.

Shortly after getting my new car, an incident happened with Sister Claire that stretched my toleration. Atrepparttar 118168 time, my life revolved around my new car. I know now it was wrong, but then I could only see that car.

Unbeknown to me, God put in motion a plan to cure me of my obsession. Have you ever noticed God knows just how to deal with us?

It was a normal Sunday morning and, as usual, I picked up Sister Claire forrepparttar 118169 worship service. I hadrepparttar 118170 car for about a month and I still reveled in its newness.

Followingrepparttar 118171 worship service, I took Sister Claire home. I watched her until she disappeared into her house. Then I noticed it. My first reaction was good old-fashioned outrage.

The seat where Sister Claire sat was soaked. Sister Claire had an accident onrepparttar 118172 front seat of my new car! Even now, after all those years, I still flinch a little.

I washedrepparttar 118173 front seat hundreds of times. Seven years later I traded it in for another car and, whether it was my imagination or not, I don't know, but I could still smell it.

When Sister Claire died two years afterrepparttar 118174 incident, they found hundreds of thousands of dollars stashed throughout her house. She had no relatives and nobody knew where she got all that money.

When I heard this, I felt sad. All her money was not a blessing to her. She derived no pleasure from it nor did she ever receive any interest from it.

Not only could her money have been a blessing to her, but she could have used it to bless other people. She robbed herself of tremendous blessings.

I have come to recognizerepparttar 118175 source of allrepparttar 118176 blessings in my life. ''Blessed be God, evenrepparttar 118177 Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,repparttar 118178 Father of mercies, andrepparttar 118179 God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, byrepparttar 118180 comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.'' (2 Corinthians 1:3-4 KJV.)

What God has placed in my hands is not to be selfishly consumed, but shared.

James L. Snyder is a freelance writer and columnist living in Ocala, FL.

    <Back to Page 1 © 2005
Terms of Use