I acknowledge upfront that this is a very strange title for a column, even for one written by yours truly. You might well be thinking I have lost my mind, and that is exactly the point of this column.
As I get older I am experiencing one loss after another. In time I will lose myself, and that will be the end of the game.
In the interim, I have lost my slim waistline, much of my hair, and now it seems my mind.
Each morning I wake up and follow a distinct routine. I am a man of routines. I like to do the same thing all the time. It suits me just fine. I follow a very precise schedule. The alarm goes off at exactly the same time every morning, and then I go to the bathroom for my morning ablutions. First, I take my vitamins, and then I brush my teeth. After shaving, I take a shower, and then I get dressed usually in a t-shirt and sweats.
A few months back I was following that familiar pattern. I had done what I always do—taking vitamins, brushing teeth, shaving, showering, and getting dressed—when I had a strange sensation. For the life of me, I could not recollect whether I had taken a shower. You can imagine the consternation this doubt caused me. Had I violated my routine? I just couldn’t remember.,
And this, of course, is when a mate comes in handy. I immediately explained my predicament to my bride. If I had not showered, then I needed to start my routine all over again.
A few direct questions from my bride were on point: “Honey, is your towel wet, and is the floor of the shower wet,” she asked. When I nodded affirmatively, my bride declared that yes, I had showered. She did not graduate Phi Beta Kappa for nothing.
So, please do me a favor. If you happen to bump into me, whatever you do, don’t ask me whether I have showered.