I gotta remember - what? I forget

So there I was one day last week. I'd just put a load of groceries in the trunk of my car and was headed home. I cranked the ignition, set the air conditioner at "meat locker blast" and as I was buckling up, the Righteous Brothers started crooning through the radio:

"You never close your eyes any more when I kiss your lips...."

That song could always send me into ecstasy. It's a short trip from the supermarket parking lot to home by way of ecstasy, and en route I sang along with those groovy Righteous Brothers. I know all the words. Can't carry a tune in a bucket, but I know the words. All of them.

So I leave the 60s and memories of a smaller waist, and unload the trunk. Dang! I forgot to buy paper towels. And that was one of the reasons I went to the store. I need paper towels. Can't microwave dinner without them.

So what's the deal here? Why is it I can remember the entire score of "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" but can't remember to buy paper towels?

Like most M&M-age women (between Menopause and Medicare) I worry about getting Alzheimer's disease. If I don't have all my marbles, I don't care to stay in the game. Just how many marbles are left, and is my shooter rolling straight? I worry about that.

No Alzheimer's in my family, but my mother could never remember my name. And I was her only daughter. But she could rattle off the date and time down to the second of every stupid thing I ever did or thought of doing. I guess as we age there's only so much room in one's memory bank, and my name got edged out.

I seem to have the same problem. I go from the living room to the kitchen to — what? It's not that long a walk. What did I come in here for? So back to the living room; I trip over the cat. Oh yeah! Feed the cat.

Yet I can tell after hearing three seconds of violins that what follows will be the Drifters crooning "This Magic Moment." And yes, I know the words to that song too.

Why is it I can remember my parents' first telephone number, but every now and again I wonder if I remembered to take my meds? The ones I have to take every morning.

A poem I had to commit to memory in the 6th grade is still there. Every time I vote — and I vote every time — I have to look up the precinct location.

This wouldn't be so frustrating if there were really a need for me to remember that Question Mark and the Mysterions recorded the song "96 Tears." There's other stuff I NEED to remember, but useless stuff clogs up my memory like chicken fat in the kitchen sink drain.

You know, I've got half a mind to — um — well — oh heck. I forgot where I was going with this.