I Have Been Forgetful
This week, I forgot it was St. Patrick’s Day. I didn’t get a chance to drink green beer and Shamrock Shakes, sing “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”, and watch Leprechaun movies. Nor did I get a chance to write limericks. I believe limericks are a seriously underrated literary form. You don’t need to be literary wordsmith like Shakespeare or one of those “sensitive” artistes to write limericks. Instead, you need a good sense of humor and an exceptionally good dirty mind. I rather read a collection of limericks that will make your Aunt Prudence the Prude grab her smelling salts rather than the serious verses loved by critics, professors, and the Nobel Prize literature committee. After all, reading should be fun, and I always enjoy perusing those “girl from Nantucket” limericks.
I also forgot that spring break is happening in Florida. One of the telltale signs you are an Old Fart is that Frankie Avalon, Annette Funicello, and Gidget hadn’t undergone puberty the last time you went on spring break. Unfortunately, I don’t have any good naughty spring break stories because I was one of those students who got caught up on my sleep and my homework rather than partying until I puke on the beaches in Florida. About the most memorable moments of my spring break was when I dragged my typewriter (young’uns, that was the medieval age contraption you used to write papers before a laptop) on buses. People gave me strange looks on why I would carry a typewriter. Well, when you are a liberal arts student, you will write, write, and write more often than Shakespeare when he wasn’t in love.
Then, I forgot about the NCAA basketball tournament. Since none of the teams I somewhat follow are dancing in the Big Dance, this is one tournament I don’t have the proverbial “dog in the hunt”. In fact, I care more about which pooch will win the Westminster Dog Show than which team will emerge as the top dog, cat, eagle, or even the most blatant NCAA scofflaw of the Final Four.
Incredibly, I even forgot not eating a meal. Actually, this is an exaggeration. My stomach doesn’t forget the the proverbial three meals a day plus a few other times for snacks. It has been said that an elephant never forgets. So does a tummy when it wants an elephant-size meal.
Joe’s Maybe Memorable Quote of the Day
I try to remember every thing until I start forgetting.