I remember riding in the car with Tony and Larry back in high school. Every time a song came on the radio it was a race to name the song, the singer, and the year it came out. We always knew.
I knew the name of every single person I went to high school with. I knew where half of them lived. I still know Adrianne Kump's home phone number and I haven't dialed it in over 20 years (883-8724.)
I knew every car on the road, what it was, who made it, and what year.
I knew the name of every movie star there had ever been. Do you know who Clara Bow is? I do.
I used to laugh when my parents called me by my brother's name, and then I'd go across the street to the King's house and the King parents would call me by the same wrong name, only this time it was their daughter's boyfriend's name. Either way, it wasn't my name.
I thought, "how can they forget my name? They've known me for my entire life!"
I'm forgetting. I'm forgetting names and dates and numbers and you name it. I can't tell you who did the songs on the radio, what the name of the song is, or what year it came out. I'm even forgetting the bands I used to know.
"That's Foreigner. No, Styx. No, Rush. Shit, who the hell is that?!"
Other than Shania Twain and Faith Hill I have no idea who most of those people on stage at the Country Music Awards were.
Wait, I never knew who the country music stars were. Nevermind.
I can turn on the TV now and Jennifer Love Hewitt can be standing there and I'll go "that's .. um .. that's .... the girl from that movie we liked ... um .. what was the name of the movie? Um .... shit!"
I have no idea who half the people I work with are. I suppose at some point they told me their names, but it was a waste of time. I just call them all "Bob."
Sometimes I can't remember how old I am.
I have a combination lock I used to use at the gym to lock my stuff up. I can't remember the combination.
So far I'm not losing things, like keys and stuff, but there's still time.
I remember Tony's grandmother constantly losing every single thing she owned. Funny thing was, if no one was around to help her find it she never seemed to lose it. I figured she just wanted attention. Years later I found out she'd lost her license and didn't want her daughter to know, so she lied and claimed she'd lost the car keys and couldn't find them anywhere. She just let the car sit and rot rather than admit that the police said she couldn't drive anymore.
Then again, she was always a phenomenally bad driver. I remember when I was a teeny little kid and she couldn't have been more than 50 years old, she'd come up from Mobile, Alabama to visit the King family and she couldn't drive or park worth a shit. She was a lunatic behind the wheel of an enormous Chrysler. So it was truly a miracle, or the work of the devil, I don't know which, that she didn't lose her license long, long before.
But this losing names thing, this is bothering me. I don't even have kids yet and already I'm going to be calling them "Hey You.'
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