Practically There

I Have Forgotten More Than I Remember

I believe that I am failing 11th grade Chemistry. The same can be said of Pre-Calculus and French. In fact, if I were my parent I would seriously consider getting me a tutor or placing me in a remedial setting. The absurdity of all of this is that I am, well, lets just say I am pushing Forty and it is pushing back, and I have not been in high school for, um, awhile. Now, please keep in mind that "back in the day" I was fairly literate and considered to be rather clever. The progeny of parents whom considered education to be the fundamental element in and of a successful life. They would be spinning in their graves (if they were dead) when they realized just how little assistance that I was able to offer when asked by my 16-year-old daughter for "a little help" with her homework. In fact, I can say with all sincerity that, college educated though I am, I was really more of a hindrance. All right, I was a down right encumbrance to my child, yes, that's what I was, a veritable human barrier to her educational development. Yup, thirty-some-odd years of ego down the crapper in the span of 40 minutes at the hands of a high school text book. Any sense of self-worth squashed in less time than it takes to dry socks. I simply could not believe that I was unable answer just off the top of my head the bulk of the questions that Madi had posed. At one point I actually began to make up answers so as not to look profoundly dim. I mean these were points that I must have known at one time. I must have! I mean, I graduated; they let me out of high school. They wouldn't have ditched me at the end of my four-year stretch, lobbing me onto the white-hot pavement of progress completely untutored, naked of the most rudimentary of facts with nary an inkling of such foundations of understanding as Recursion Theory, Reaction Dynamics or that St. Denis Cathedral was rebuilt in 1120 marking the birth of Gothic Architecture. Would they?

No, of course not. And, they didn't. I was coerced, as we all were to leave the warm, convivial (Hah!) and hallowed halls of high school with a modicum of information, at least enough to allow for navigation of a phonebook, the balancing of a check book and the ever popular procreation (remember the filmstrips?). What has happened is that, just as I had suspected all along, we must have a finite capacity for information storage in our cranium and over the last two decades the information in my particular noggin' has been slowly usurped by the day in/day out activities and the trivialities, import and pettiness that are part and parcel of this human existence. These factoids are then being systematically replaced with bits and pieces of virtually useless information like Friday's are 2-for-1 rentals at VideoMart and Hemingway's hat size. Honestly, all too often I cannot remember where I put my keys and many mornings I have to double check to make sure that I am wearing pants.

So, in retrospect, I am going to assume that I am not alone in the belief that society, technology and basically everyone under the age of thirty-five have already surpassed me intellectually and that I have forgotten far more than I imagine I will ever remember in this lifetime. Thus, I shall to choose to look at the whole humiliation as not so much the loss of my peace of mind or sense of self but rather as just maturing quite naturally. Oh, and one extra perk, my lack of usefulness so panicked my other offspring that they have avowed never, ever to ask me for help with their homework. Now, most of my evenings are free.

Hey, but that's just me talking.

Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.
- Tom Wilson