I Was A Teenage Frisbee Champion

So there's my memory... or to be a tad more specific, there ISN'T my memory. That's sorta the problem. I'm not saying my mind was ever the mecca of knowledge or anything. I'm not Encyclopedia Brown. All I know is, I NEVER had this much trouble recalling information before. I get the simplest questions, something I should be able to recall from the memory banks immediately and I reach in to get a big handful of nothing.
Now, I know for some of the stuff, it's like who cares? When someone asks a normal person "Who was that guy who starred in those old Disney TV shows as Elfego Baca?" the person usually responds with "Uh... who? What's an Elfego Baca? Do you have something stuck in your teeth? Get away from me you weirdo!" See, I'm no normal person though. Never was, never will be. But I am also a student of film (got a degree and everything! It's hanging up on the wall of my non-existent home, or in my non-existent office next to that stupid Hang In There poster). It's my thing. I love movies and TV and stuff like that, so when I can't remember Robert Loggia, it bothers me. That is freakin' sad. Robert Loggia is upsetting me.
Okay, I know it's not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things that I can't remember names like Robert Loggia, Mary Elizabeth Winstead or Ron Eldard. That's just one example though. There's the other stuff, the normal, everyday stuff. Remembering to turn off a light before leaving a room. Planning on doing something - the big mission - and getting distracted by something stupid like stopping to get a drink and COMPLETELY forgetting about the mission. I will get out of the shower, towel off, and not remember to dry my back! Come on! "Why is my back wet?" I ask myself in a grand moment of duh. Why do I have to ask myself whether or not I dried my back? What's next? "Did you remember to put on pants today?"
Then there are those moments when remembering becomes pretty damn important. Like when I'm paying for something or using the ATM and I have to punch in my PIN number. People stand around waiting while I go into my notes and find the 4 digit number that I JUST went over with myself a few minutes ago in preparation for this exact moment. Anxiety hits instantaneously and my inadequacies are magnified in my eyes to the trillionth degree. "You can put in your PIN now sir..." Uh, gimmie a sec, I know. I just need the number. Oh and what if I don't have my notes with me? I am SCREWED then, that's what. Can we just get that implant or whatever so I can wave my hand and be done with it? I'll risk the possible hand theft.
One thing that did occur to me, today in fact, is that I MIGHT be able to spin this problem into something magnificent. Something fantastical. So let's say my memory gets so bad that I basically lose all of my memories. Those good moments (hardly any, no big loss) that I'd want to talk about as an old man. You know the type, that old dude who goes around telling hilarious stories. Well, if I can't remember those moments, and if I accept that today instead of beating myself up about it later on, then what I CAN do is use my skills as a storyteller and just make memories up.  Who cares if the events never happened? I can't remember the ones that did anyway. Might as well live my life thinking I did the most amazing, ridiculous things. I plan on remembering fondly the year I spent as a grifter, along with my female partner who ended up double-crossing me over a handful of diamonds. Maybe I shouldn't have trusted her, but I definitely don't regret sleeping with her.
So next time I talk to you and I'm telling you a great story - don't think about whether what I am saying is true or not. It really doesn't matter. What matters is that I am talking to you. Consider yourself lucky, I'm freakin' amazing.