Get ready, it’s going to happen to you

Clayton Hayes is a lifelong resident of Dyer County.

As I hopefully get to celebrate another birthday in August, it simply reminds me that as I get older, I truly believe I should pay more respect to older people. I’m not there yet, as I count anyone 18 years older than myself as elderly.

If I can live to be 100, at least there’s one worry that won’t bother me. That’s peer pressure.

I’m approaching that age where my body is emulating a used car: parts failing, parts falling off, warranty expired, parts morphing into unrecognizable parts. This always happens when I suck in my gut and my ankles swell.

Ever since that day long ago when I reached forty....prematurely I might add....appearance has always been on my mind. I perceive myself as all right but how do others perceive me? Last week my appearance and age made me think about antiques. I realized the difference between antiques and junk depends on who’s selling what to whom.

People of all ages, if they are honest with themselves and others, are concerned about their appearance. I spoke with a close friend’s new wife last week when she reminded me, “Getting a husband is like buying a house. You don’t see it the way it is, but how you think it’s going to be when you get it remodeled.”

See what I mean about perception and appearance?

When I was growing up in my early twenties, we all tried to look like Paul Newman. Now, today, we’re all trying not to look like Paul Newman because he passed away in 2008.

However, Newman always displayed hair on his head. Some of my friends are desperately fighting baldness as if it were a fatal incurable disease. One just shaved off what little hair was left and grew a goatee. Gave him that “Satan look.”

Another one used some of that “hair-growing gel” advertised on television and looked like a Chia pet. Then there’s a high school buddy standing outside the hair salon with his nose pressed against the window. Guess he’s afraid to go in. Hair today and gone tomorrow.

The best thing about old age is that a person only has to experience it once. I sure liked the “good old days” best, as I was younger then. I’ve discovered there are three stages of age. They are youth, middle age and .... “My, but you are looking well.”

Moving from my appearance problem, I find myself thinking about the next one that causes me pain. And that’s losing my memory.

Why can I always remember the things I’m trying to forget and can’t remember the things I need to remember? Surely, appearance and perception have nothing to do with this ailment of mine. Do any of my faithful readers out there have this problem, or is it only me?

Pay close attention to this: it’s a sign of losing your memory if you feel like the morning after the night before, and you haven’t even been anywhere.

I still fear Mallzheimer’s disease. This appears when I visit the local mall and forget where I parked my car.

I left my grocery list at home. Standing in the middle of the frozen food aisle, trying to remember exactly what was on my list, I made some purchases. When I got home, none of the food I bought was on my list. Maybe I acquired that new disease, “listless.”

As I insert the key in my back door, is it because I am leaving to go to Walmart or because I’ve just arrived home from Walmart?

In my house, as I stand before my refrigerator, I ask myself, am I getting something out or putting something back in?

It’s one thing to forget where I put my glasses and quite another to forget that I wear them.

I called my local bank yesterday to inquire about my bank statement. Of course, I heard a mundane recording telling me to press 1 for bank balance, press 2 for deposits, and so on. But the last one caught

My attention as it said, “Press 5 for short-term memory loss.” I hung up but couldn’t remember who I called and why I had hung up on them.

Memory loss is nothing new for me. It all began when I was born. No matter how hard I try, I cannot remember being born. This is weird as birth is the most meaningful event in a person’s life. It’s the very reason I’m alive, so you’d think I could remember even a small part of what happened.

Psychologists tell me that memory at its simplest level is a mental activity for recalling information that has been learned or experienced. It involves receiving, retaining and retrieving data, much like our personal computers. We refer to it as the “the 3R’s of memory.”

I understand the registration and retention facet of storing memory, but the retrieval part is difficult. Is the memory I want in an easily accessible “folder” on my brain’s hard drive or randomly scattered in files all over my mental “desktop?” Maybe my brain needs defragging.

When something is on the “tip of my tongue” and I can’t quite get it, the retrieval problem pops up. Hopefully I paid attention as I originally registered it in my brain, retained it in some folder somewhere, but can’t quite get it out. My brain may have to search through decades of storage to find what I need to remember. Now I know my brain needs defragging. There’s a lot of useless information stored in those brain cells.

Most people over 40 can probably relate to these happenings I’ve described. If not, watch out. They’re coming soon to a neighborhood near you.

Maybe your house.