Head Lint

Concentrate. Really concentrate. I bet you can't. If you're like me, the harder you try, the more likely it is that you'll run into what I call head lint. It's that vast area of our brains dedicated to completely useless knowledge. I can't remember the important birthdays of my loved ones, but I sure can remember that Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco (LSMFT), that Elvis wore shoe lifts even in his bedroom slippers, that when ducks quack, they don't create an echo (and nobody knows why), or that cows won't walk down a flight of stairs.

This drives me insane.

Why did I forget to take my Handspring PDA to work this morning, but I know that the most eastern point in the U.S. is one of the Aleutian Islands (that is across the International Date Line)? How about the stupid song you can't get out of your head? Lately, I've been humming that catchy tune, Put That Thing Back Where It Came From, from the movie Monsters Inc. I don't want to, but I simply can't forget it.

All I want to do is to focus on what really has to get done. But first, I have to sweep the lint out of my head. On the other hand, if you need a good partner for Trivial Pursuit, call me. I've never been beaten yet. It's all that useless knowledge in my head.