Clueless

                            Clueless

 

            This morning, as I rooted around in my closet, looking for something I couldn't quite remember what; I found a pair of flip flops, quite new looking.  I have no idea where they came from.  They're really nice with a thick blue foam sole, striped in pink.  I immediately liked them and hoped they were mine.  I think I'll wear them today, they fit.

            Yesterday I was writing something about someone, and couldn't come up with the word I wanted to use.  I was pretty sure it began with a "c" but that's about the only clue my brain would come up with.  I asked my husband but he hadn't the foggiest idea what I was talking about yet, he kept popping back into the room with words. 

            "Did you say? (We’re both hard of hearing) I repeated C. He said, "Sea? Like in "Old Man of sea?"

            When I repeated, again, “No, I mean the letter "c".” He thought for a minute and left the room.  Within seconds he was back.

            "How about concentrate," he offered.  I was sorry I'd asked him.  He had one word right but not that "C" word I was looking for. And by then I’d forgotten why I was trying to remember the word--whatever it was, I forgot.

            Last week Sally and I were having tea and discussing the movie I had seen the night before.  I wanted to tell her all about it.

            "It was about something to do with a hospital..."  I began.

            "Oh, do you mean the one that starred the actor who played in the film about the war lords in China with the actress who has that long dark hair and is married to the guy in that television series about cops?"  She asked.

            "No," I said, "she was in the show last week about New York, or maybe Chicago?  Anyway she was the one who sang that song about...well remember the song they sang in Oklahoma?  It was like that, I think or it might have been the one in Carousel.  Anyway, she had a big part."

            We finished our tea perfectly satisfied with a conversation that had more holes in it then that big golf course in California or Florida whose name I can't seem to recall. Remembering is getting harder as my hair gets grayer.  But, here's a joke that I do remember.  "Why did the dumb blond keep staring at the frozen can of juice?  Answer:  It said concentrate!"   I do, but like the title of the movie, let me see if I can remember the name? Oh! "A River Ran Through It" thoughts course through my brain like that river and sometimes at the speed of sound and then flows right out the other side. I can feel the breeze.