I’ve never met anyone with a worse memory than me. I’ve also never met anyone with Alzheimer’s, but I’d surely give even them a run for their money. My memory is not just bad - it’s a huge burden, a constant aggravation, a handicap and also a very real concern. I think its getting worse and I wonder if I’ll remember my own name in 10 years. There are countless examples, but naturally I can’t remember them… so a couple of weeks ago I started listing a few examples as they came up. Yesterday’s was a doozie, prompting me to write this now.

I just did the 57th Street art show in Chicago and will do the Old Town show next week, which is also in Chicago. In between I’m flying back home to California. The normal way to plan this is to leave my van at the airport parking lot, instead of driving the four hours back to Ann Arbor, my home in the east. But I don’t think I’ve planned this in a normal way, so after the show I get on the 94 eastbound towards Ann Arbor. Eighty miles later I call my wife, Pam, and tell her I should have flown out of Chicago and not Ann Arbor. “You are flying out of Chicago.” “WHAT?? AAAARRRGGGHHH!” I turn around and drive the eighty miles back to Chicago to catch my flight.

Here are some more sad examples of why I’m the Incredible Shrinking-Memory Man.

- I rarely remember the name of my favorite beer. I’m constantly asking my wife what it is before ordering a beer somewhere. If they don’t have it, I’ll ask her if I like any of the beers on the menu. “You don’t like this one, this one you think has a funny after taste, this one you like.” (btw, its Newcastle)

-I had my Sirius satellite radio stolen out of my van in Chicago during a recent Steal-Xavier’s-stuff rampage (2 break-ins in 3 days). I went to eBay and bought one. Then forgetting I’d already ordered one, I bought a second… then this is where I leave everyone in the dust. Forgetting once again that I’ve placed an order for a satellite radio, I bought a THIRD one!!  Anyone want to buy a satellite radio?

-If I’m in a store browsing, I have to be careful. Just before exiting the store, I’ve learned to slow down and ask myself: “Is there any merchandise in my hands?” No. Good. I can leave without getting arrested.

There is another problem with having a bad memory. Here’s a short list of treasured things I’ve lost, left behind somewhere, misplaced… who the hell knows…

- all my paintings and charcoal sketches from my teens. I still have many smaller drawings which were kept in a different place.

-a few years ago: a box full of all my personal pictures. Hundreds of them - including four big albums. Pictures of me and my friends and family - school pictures dating back to kindergarten, some pictures of my parents in their youth, all my old friends… lost.

-all my trophies and medals from playing hockey and baseball as a kid. The two that I really miss: 1. a trophy for best goaltender of the year, 2. a bronze medal when my team came in third at the Quebec Provincial hockey championships.

Oh I could go on and on but it hurts to think about it. That part of my brain works.

On the bright side… We don’t carry our souls in little boxes.

Looking for stuff I lost (1999, Toronto). I bet some was under here - I should have looked.