The Old Coot explains the blockade (in his head)

I was eavesdropping on a bunch of old guys the other day who were sitting around sipping coffee and shooting the breeze. I was sitting two tables away and trying to come up with an old coot article; a blank page in my notebook stared up at me, mocking my lack of creativity. Besides, it was more interesting to witness what was going on with the old guys. 

It soon dawned on me why we (old coots) have memory problems. Our brains are clogged with unanswered questions – “What was that guy’s name?” – “What was the name of that movie, restaurant, town and the like?”

I watched the old guys repeatedly stop in mid-sentence if they couldn’t come up with the name of someone or something. The conversation stagnated as everyone tried to help with the answer. Eventually, the speaker spit out, “Whatever,” and continued on with his tale. Sometimes the conversation broke down completely, with everyone staring off into space using all the memory tricks they could think of, like running through the alphabet, to come up with the tidbit that was hidden in the cobwebs. 

Their conversation was sprinkled with “What’s-his-names” – “Watcha-a-call its” – “Thing-a-ma-jigs” and the like. Everyone left with unanswered questions, adding to the traffic jam in their brains. Those new bits of unremembered facts clump up and increase the blockage in the channels to our memory files. It’s a memory death spiral; the more unanswered items that laze in the gray matter, the worse the problem gets. Google helps a bit, but Siri or Alexa can’t answer many items.

It’s not just old coots that are impacted by memory clogs. Young people have this problem too. They just don’t get as frustrated as we do, and they aren’t worried that onlookers will think they’re senile. They also have more blank space to accommodate the buildup. I was prepared to conclude this column with a clever, astute bit of wisdom. Unfortunately, I lost my train of thought and can’t remember what it was. I just know it was great.   

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