Losing It In Memphis

Thursday Debbie asked me if I remembered when we had discussed getting a new will.  And I said “no.”  She said “You remember, a couple of weeks ago, you went somewhere and they told you that you needed a new will?”

Me, with appropriate blank stare: “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Debbie: “You went somewhere to get the car worked on and they told you that you needed a new wheel.”

“WHEEL.  OH a WHEEL!!  Oh yeah, that was at Wal-Mart when I got the tires rotated.”

Reminded me of the time I went to Memphis with one of the safety specialists when I worked at Manville.  We spent the week working in the plant, and one evening we went down to Beale St.  We’d talked about it earlier in the week, and Ken had never even heard of it, much less been to such a historic place.  When we arrived, Ken said “Oh, it really is pronounced BEE-l street.  All this time, I just thought that was people from the south trying to say Bill Street.”

Having Memphis on the brain, then, after we ate mexican food last night and I had a bit of a stomach ache, Debbie then reminded me that this happended the last time we went to Memphis.

Me, again with a blank stare: “Memphis?  When was the last time we went to Memphis?”

Debbie: “NINFA’s.  Ninfa’s Mexican.”

You know – between losing my memory and losing my hearing, I’m just not so sure I can handle another 50+ years (I plan to live to 100, so I’m not middle-aged yet, right?).


About Joe

Writing on the things I'm passionate about: my family, my faith, and my work. View all posts by Joe

4 responses to “Losing It In Memphis

  • jcallahan

    My dad has pretty severe hearing loss (at a very young age) and this type of stuff was standard around the house growing up. It’s usually more funny afterwards than when you can’t get your point across. I hope you have a long life of laughing about these situations.

  • Jean

    I guess this all goes with age as I am getting pretty bad, however, Robert lost a lot f his hearing when he had his oilfield accident back in 1970, but was already on his way from working around loud engines and such. About 13 years ago, sometime late in the year, he was in the shower and I went to the door and asked him if he wanted to go out to eat or eat leftover smothered steak. He yelled back to me to repeat, which I did. He started laughing and when he was finally able to talk, he said, “I thought you asked me if I wanted to go out to eat or have leftovers Mother’s Day and I wondered why you were planning so far in advance!” If we had kept up with all the mis-hearings, we could write a book.

  • Johnny

    Gee Joe Bob..why stop at 100 lets go to 200 then we WON’T be middle-aged for few more years!

  • Joe

    I’m in. Let’s do it.

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