Maybe it is not always that simple, especially when you think about all the other things there are to think about, such as….
Well, we’ll leave that to one side for the moment while we get on with whatever it was we were about to do.
That is the trouble. As you get older, you start to forget about… whatever it was I meant to say here… probably something about memory. It usually is these days, or so I seem to recall anyway.
That’s the trouble with a bad memory, remembering just how bad it is. After all, it could be just another faulty memory and my memory would be excellent, except for these momentary lapses of… whatever it was I was….
Or not, as the case may be.
As I was saying – probably – to someone or other the other day… or was it a few weeks ago…. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. The main point is that whatever I said to whoever it was whenever it was, it bears repeating now.
If I could remember what it was.
Probably something about…..
No, that wasn’t it.
It’ll come to me in a minute.
Meanwhile we could talk about something else, something a bit more….
I thought I had it then.
But it’s gone again.
That’s the thing with memories they are a bit… easily lost, I suppose. If that is what I mean. After all, as we now know the memory is not a collection of boxes and trunks up in the dusty attic of the brain that the mind goes and has a rummage through whenever you need to remember who was the bassist in that group you used to like back when you were a teenager.
No, the mind is lazy. It just grabs the nearest thing to hand and says, ‘here, this will do.’
When you think about it, this is how evolution works. If there are strange shadows shifting in the undergrowth, the mind that says ‘Run, it is some kind of savage bastard!’ will tend to live. At least longer than someone who stands there letting his mind wander through the dusty memory attic to come up with a match that says the shadowy thing in the undergrowth could be a tiger, especially the way it is now running right at you with those big sharp teeth and cla-!’
Whoops… never mind.
By the time the second chap has decided to run the tiger is already gnawing at his leg.
So, that’s why the memory is so poor. It is more concerned with getting you out of the way of danger, into the way of food and noticing that the young lady over there would make a fine mother for your offspring rather than… whatever it was I was going to say next.
And we fill the mind up with all sorts of rubbish like the names of bass players in 1970s teenybop bands… it even remembers words like teenybop which is a good indicator of my age, if nothing else.
But as I was saying….