"Absent-mindedness is not inevitable,
but a form of artificially practiced
escapism. For one’s mind is never
absent, nor able to escape.”
- Author unknown
As I headed out the door, she said, “Got your keys? Phone? Wallet?” A familiar mantra that is, by now, routine. There is a reason for this.
The event…
I got up early because I wanted to be the first to wish her a happy birthday. In fact, I had a fleeting thought about making the call just after midnight to catch her at the beginning of the day.
“Good morning, Ted.” She said.
Without another word, I began, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Molly. Happy birthday to you…and many more – with me.” You know the tune.
I smiled to myself as I expected a, "Thanks, hon. That was sweet."
She thanked me for the call and as gently as she could, said, “My birthday was yesterday.”
Yeah, it’s kind of funny, if you think other folk’s embarrassments are entertaining. I would have chuckled myself if someone had told me it happened to them. They hadn’t, and there was no chuckle.
Molly was still with her brother in Tulsa on her birthday, and as it turned out, the day after her birthday when I made the unrecoverable call.
I could make the excuse that I have been under the weather for the past few weeks, or that as time moves on, I forget more things. Yes, it is true, I could do that were it not for the decades of missed birthdays, anniversaries and other assorted events. There were even a couple of years somewhere in my fifties when I thought I was a year younger. I remember filling out forms that required my birth date and age in the same document, and I still had the age wrong! Yes, I could make excuses if not for life-long patterns.
Another event…
In 2006 I was in China with my late best friend Cheong Wing Lee and his wife, Sally. They took me to Beijing on an organized tour. We visited the Forbidden City, Great Wall, Summer Palace (despite freezing February temperatures), among other awe-inspiring places. The thing is, it was not a tour for Caucasians, but for Chinese. Everything was spoken in Mandarin. The only English speakers were Wing Lee, Sally and a twelve-year-old girl whose vocabulary was limited to a beaming smile and asking, “How are you?” I would say, “I am fine, thank you, and you?” With this repeated interaction, her smiles further broadened.
These tours were subsidized by companies that make all sorts of things from hand painted vases, to carved jade and Chinese medicines. These were not small factories, but large places with hundreds of employees.
The tour worked like this. The bus would pull into a large parking lot. We would then be escorted to an open dining room with lots of other Chinese tourers sitting at luncheon tables. After a meal, we would be taken on fascinating tours of the specific facility. Each visit would end in fairly good-sized gift shops where one could purchase anything the place made.
One Jade factory provided an opportunity to illustrate the dilemma I previously mentioned regarding Molly’s birthday – writ large!
There was an artisan making custom ink stamps. They were carved out of jade, about three inches tall and three-quarters of an inch on a side. On the top of these stamps were animals representing specific Chinese Zodiac years. If you have eaten at Chinese restaurants, you may have noticed some of them have paper place mats with the twelve Zodiac animals represented by different years. You find your birth year and note the animal represented. I was born in 1947, the year of the ‘Year of the Pig’ – always good for knowing looks and a chuckle from my eating companions.
The artist carved people’s names in Chinese on the bottom of the stamp. Thus with an ink pad, one's name in Chinese could be placed as a seal to a document. I got one of these custom stamps for my sister, niece, Molly and myself. The thing about hand-carved stamps is that they are practically impossible to forge. This is because each carver has a unique style. That makes these stamps notable gifts.
When I got home, I proudly presented Molly with hers, 1954, the ‘Year of the Horse.’ “I thought you would really enjoy this,” I proudly said.
“This is lovely,” she replied with a knowing smile I have come to recognize. “But I was born in 1955.”
All of you, of course, instantly appreciate that 1955 was Year of the Sheep (Goat or Ram)! You could argue, it’s the thought that counts. But what does one do with an item lovingly acquired ten thousand miles from home, when it is just plain wrong. It is not like it's easy to find a Molly born in 1954 and give it to her!
Habits (even bad ones) take practice…
My life has been filled with these sorts of events. Some on a smaller scale, a few on much larger. Also, I have misplaced or lost phones, books, various pieces of clothing and other sundry items on airplanes, in hotel rooms and other public places. The only consolation is that it doesn’t seem to be any more frequent in these latter times than it was in earlier years. A curious aside is that I have almost never missed an appointment or speaking engagement.
As time has accumulated, however, there have been nuanced updates in the scope of Molly's reminders – the circumstances much broader than just leaving the house. When I'm traveling, she reminds me via text or when chatting to make sure I have left nothing behind. I always reassure her I have checked the hotel room, taxi seat, airport seating area and airplane.
This has proved to be a pretty much failsafe system, except when it isn’t. In Singapore last fall, I took off my suit jacket during breakfast. After eating, I called Molly, and we chatted for a few minutes ending with her reminder to leave nothing behind. I looked around and assured her all was well.
It only took a month for that suit jacket to find its way back home….
ted
Thanks for starting my day with a chuckle.
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