I need someone to invent a do-it-yourself, at-home lobotomy kit. I’d pay good money for it. Then, I’d have Matt, maybe, or Ian drill right into my head and take care of a few little problems. Don’t worry, they couldn’t hurt me. My brain is evidently protected by several inches of absolutely useless bits of trivia, quotes, and numbers. Every time one of these little “bits” surfaced in my brain, Matt (or Ian) could get it. Snip. Then maybe I could remember things that have an actual bearing on my life, such as why I just got up out of my chair and walked purposefully into the kitchen, only to then stand and look around me in a confused sort of way like a total dumbass until at last, after trying and failing to remember what I was doing there, I wander aimlessly back to the chair in hopes that whatever it was will fight its way back to the surface of my mind again.
Take, for example, numbers. I can remember phone numbers with ease. Here’s the catch: I have some phone numbers in my memory that I remember with perfect clarity, but I don’t know whose number they are! The President? An old friend? The secret government agency that I used to be an assassin for? (Think “The Bourne Identity.”)
Which leads me to my main complaint–in nearly every situation I confront every single day, I have, stored in my brain, some corresponding song, movie quote, book quote, or Far Side cartoon. Seriously. I can’t control it–it’s like some weird, mental diarrhea. Nice image, I know, but it’s really that bad. Here is just a little glimpse into my brain.
- If, for any reason, I am laying down and look down at my own bare feet, my brain says, “I’ll be damned. This is funny.” (Doc Holiday–Tombstone.)
- If I am talking about the government, or somebody who I am opposing at that moment, my brain says “Screw ’em!” (Anthony Hopkins–Legends of the Fall.)
- My son has a friend named Mickie, and every single time anyone mentions her name, my brain cheerfully screams out the song, “Hey Mickie you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind, Hey Mickie!” If my brain had hands, it would do the clapping part, too.
- My son has another friend who has a sister named Maggie. So, my brain, in a perfect Rod Stewart impersonation, sings “Wake up Maggie, I think I’ve got something to say to you!” every time it sees her.
- Dana Carvey, as the Church Lady, says “Well, isn’t that special” at least fifty times a day in there.
- Whenever my son says he wants something, my brain, as Mick Jagger, says, “You can’t always get what you want.” I even wrote a post and quoted that one.
- I can apply a Far Side cartoon to nearly any situation. Just ask my husband.
- Also, I’m pretty good at applying Spongebob to everyday life.
The list could go on for ever. As the saying goes, “I’ve got a million of ’em.” It’s no wonder I can’t remember anything useful. I don’t know why my brain applied Highest Priority Status to this stuff, and decided that other stuff, like where various members of my family are at any given moment, really wasn’t all that important. I had a theory about it, but I honestly don’t remember what it was. You know, that reminds me of this cartoon……..