Elvis, Trivialities and the Human Brain

Just how much useless information can one’s brain store before it rebels? When forced to add to the clutter of irritating commercial jingles, bad movie dialog and elementary (I before E except after C) grade school gobbledygook will it one day say I’ve had enough, I quit?

I’ve heard from reliable sources that the mind is the second thing to go, but I wanted to keep this PG rated so I will forgo the joke about the honeymooning seniors, two Popsicle sticks and a roll of duct tape.

Time inevitably marches on and pop culture twerks right along behind it. Seems like only yesterday that Elvis Presley was known as the “King of Rock –N- Roll.” Now he is commonly referred to as the dead fat guy in the rhinestone jumpsuit. Before you know it Kanye West will be nothing more than 20 down; a nine letter word for the second idiot who married the Armenian chick with the big butt.  So, as I get older I begin to care less about what movie star gets a DUI (They’re rich. Couldn't they afford Uber?) and more about keeping incontinent dogs and partying teenagers off my lawn.

Side Note:

I pondered this subject while scouring the internet in a vain attempt to discover the ingredients for Honey Boo Boo’s world famous butter and ketchup spaghetti sauce.  Apparently this is a carefully guarded formula right up there with Coca-Cola, KFC’s top secret herbs and spices and Flame Broiler’s “Magic Sauce.” If anyone has discovered HBB’s recipe, please forward it to me.

Anyway, I find it fascinating that I can belt out the theme song to The Brady Bunch verbatim, but couldn't tell you what I had for breakfast this morning.  As a lifelong musician this is somewhat comforting. That means I could probably get up on stage with a band I was in thirty years ago and play Hit Me with Your Best Shot flawlessly. The flip side is it would take me an hour to remember where I parked my car afterward.

I was considering going on one of those websites where you exercise your brain, but for the life of me I can’t remember the web address. Probably just as well. This morning I could barely recite the first two verses of the Gilligan’s Island theme song. The possibility exists that if any more info was crammed into my aging noggin I might forget the tune altogether. Wouldn't want that. After all, a man must have priorities.

Someday I’m sure they will discover a way to erase brain clutter like we do on a computer. That would come in handy. I would start with anything I ever heard, read, saw regarding Justin Bieber, the Kardashians and the helpful Honda guy commercials. Oh, and Kanye West too.

K.G.