The P.A.

A weekly address from Patrick Adams,
President of St. Louis Community Credit Union

Too Much Clutter In One’s Brain Can Be A Curse

On August 6th, 2012, posted in: Uncategorized by

My mind gets cluttered from time to time with things that don’t matter.  It’s not that I mind that I have gray matter that is overrun with Seinfeld trivia – that “show about nothing” portion of the brain makes for great fodder at a local party.  The problem is that it becomes a portion of the brain that I can’t use for the more pressing matters.

My mind is so cluttered that when my son asked me who my newborn grandson looked like, I responded by saying “Winston Churchill.”  (In defense, don’t all babies look like Winston Churchill?  Round, bald head – you get the idea.)  See, too much clutter.

When I was in Charleston, South Carolina not too long ago, I went to the breakfast buffet and got a bowl of oatmeal.  I spent the next ten minutes trying to improve the flavor of this worst bowl of oatmeal I’ve ever had.  I tried raisins, brown sugar, craisins, almond flakes, walnuts and something in the syrup family. Nothing worked.  Well, of course not.  I had grits in the bowl, not oatmeal.  See, too much clutter.

My sister, who just turned 72 (Happy Birthday, Sis), and who is Lucille Ball incarnate, has a cluttered mind as well.  I’m talking with her on the phone a few weeks ago and I coughed.  This altered her stream of thought and she started telling me that the USA is experiencing its worst outbreak of whooping cough in over 50 years.  I coughed again, and she took off in the direction of curing said cough.  She wanted me to buy some “Mucinex” to help cure the cough but, instead, she told me to get some “Metamucil.”  Suffice to say, had I followed her advice I would still have the cough.  However, think how much lighter I would be on my feet!  See, too much clutter.

I’ve got way too many things that matter to think about to have a piece of my brain occupied with useless information.  My buddy and I were at a Cardinal game last week reminiscing about our 40-plus years of friendship.  A bystander asked if we had ever fought in those many decades.  I responded that we had never fought, but that on one occasion I lost a bet and he got to smack the crap out of me with a fly swatter.  And, boy, did he!  My buddy had completely forgotten.  I need to be able to do that – completely forget.  It’s a curse, I tell you, a curse!  See, way too much clutter.

I do forget some things – things that my wife tells me.  That can’t be good, can it?  I asked my wife as we lay on the living room floor frolicking about with our beautiful grandson (who looks nothing like Winston Churchill) when was the last time we frolicked on the floor together, maybe high school?  And I gave her a rye chuckle.  She looked down her nose at me with such disdain that I knew I was in trouble.  She very succinctly reminded me with less than flattering language that she did not know me in high school.


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