Memory.

I’ve decided that my head is filled to the rim with Brim. And other assorted crap. As usual, I have too much crap floating around in my brain. I think it’s because I’ve made a conscious effort, my entire life, to remember everything that I possibly can. I have more useless knowledge than just about anyone I know.

For example, a schoolmate of mine, one of the few I graduated with that attended the same school grades K-12 just celebrated a birthday on December 10. Happy birthday Janice Gray. I have no idea why I remember you birthday, save for the fact that I drew your name in a birthday gift exchange in Mrs. Hayden’s second grade class. I haven’t seen you since graduation and I hope that life is treating you well. Know that I celebrate your birthday every year because for some reason its clogging up my RAM.

I remember that the second exit north of the Florida-Georgia line on Interstate 95 is for Kingsland/St. Marys, Ga. And the first sign I saw displaying this was made of fiberglass. That was in 1988. I’ve only been in Georgia twice.

I’ve had a song stuck in my head for the past two days. It’s an obscure ditty by Frida (the dark haired one from Abba) and Phil Collins. It’s called “Here We’ll Stay” and was the follow up to Frida’s hit single “I Know There’s Something Going On.” It was a flop.

I remember that the washing machine we had when I was five years old had a “Lock ‘N Spin” feature. I can still vividly recall the first time I stepped foot on a school bus, my first day of kindergarten. I sat in the first emergency exit seat on the right as you walked towards the back of the bus. It was bus 43.

When I was meditating this morning, I made an effort to recall my earliest memories. I remember sitting between my maternal grandmother and grandfather, in the front seat of their 1968 Caprice. I remember getting my favorite stuffed animal, Floppy, as I came home from the hospital after having spinal meningitis. I was just past my second birthday.

I can still recite television commercials from the 1970s. “Mr. Ling, how do you get your clothes so clean? Ancient Chinese Secret. My husband, some hot shot, here’s his Ancient Chinese Secret, Calgon. Calgon softeners water so your detergents cleans better blah, blah, blah… we need more Calgon! Ancient Chinese Secret, huh?” I’ve never used Calgon in my life. But I can tell you that the washing machine in the commercial was made by General Electric and the lint filter was missing.

I must have an obsession with laundry or something.

Is it possible that the brain can only hold so much? Do we remember only so much data, and then it falls out all over the place, and we end up a fool spewing worthless facts to make room for what lies ahead?

Whatever the reason, if anyone needs the Honeycombs cereal commercial sung at them, drop me an e-mail, maybe you’ll catch it when my brains fall out. Honeycomb’s big, yeah yeah yeah, its not small, no no no…