>Lately I’ve been tempted to offer that sorry-a** excuse for not being able to remember stuff. You know… groan …. Senior Moment. But that’s not always strictly the case when I am unable to pull language, facts and memories out of my brain. It has to do with capacity.

I have reached maximum occupancy. If I want to upload more information into the storage device then I have to kick data outta there. I was at CGOA Chain Link in Manchester for eight days/seven nights and I met (and re-met!) a great many wonderful people in the course of the event. In order for me to record for today and recall at some conference in the future all those faces, names, amusing and/or embarrassing incidents, I’d be forced to forget other faces, names, amusing and/or embarrassing incidents already floating around in my head.

Case in point. A friendly and incredibly familiar face approached me to sign her book. Tripledogdangit if I could not remember her name even though I had not only met her several times before, but am an honorary member of her CGOA Guild Chapter and have twice done demos at chapter meetings. I tried to sneak a sideways look at her name badge so I could avoid the utter shame of having to ask. YIKES! She wasn’t wearing her badge, at least not where I could see it.

In hindsight I can now rationalize having forgotten her name because I had just met a dozen new faces and had to make room. But at the time I had only one option. I smiled very sweetly in my best puppy-dog way, book flap open and Ultrafine point Sharpie poised, and asked how she spelled her name. Just so I got it spelled correctly. Yeah, right. That has to be the lamest thing to say, but what was I to do? Occasionally that’s a superior ploy because some people have unusual names or spellings. HA! Imagine my chagrin when she reminds me that she is Grace. Simply Grace. Remember? HHCC Grace? Terrific Grace? All the refreshments you can eat at her chapter meetings Grace? DUH!

The totally horrifying part is that you don’t get to choose which information goes or stays. I do not understand why I still remember all the lyrics to one of my favorite recordings, “Our Day Will Come” by Ruby and the Romantics, AND I remember that the single was number one on the charts in the spring of 1963. But I couldn’t for the life of me call up that name. I’d gladly have relinquished any currently stored knowledge about meerkats or kumquats or Lamborghinis, just to have experienced the satisfaction of remembering lovely Grace.

There might be a way to de-fragment or re-shuffle the drive to squeeze out a bit more space. It might involve wine. If I figure out the process in time for the CGOA Regional in Portland I’ll let you know. If I remember.