What is the most important thing about … well, it felt important at the time … but now, I can’t remember what it was, much less why it was important. I’ve already forgotten it, kind of like last year’s income tax return (after it’s been filed and forgotten in the dustbin of history).

My memory used to have a half-life of thirty seconds. After thirty seconds I’d forget half of my thought, and then the other half no longer seemed to matter. Eventually, I’d forget the second half too. Oh well.  Now the half-life is … well … fewer than thirty seconds.

When he was my age, my father had already mastered the fine art of … ah, yes … remembering. He simply carried around a small notepad, and he wrote reminders to himself. His system worked well for him. Maybe I’ll give it a try, although I would use the notes app on my phone instead of a notepad, because I’d probably set that down somewhere and forget where.

But memory is a strange and fleeting ability. I can forget what happened ten minutes ago, but a memory from 40 years earlier will reappear uninvited. For example, just now I’m remembering a statement attributed to a famous classical pianist:

“If I don’t practice for one day, I know it. If I don’t practice for two days, my students know it, and if I don’t practice for three days, everyone knows it.”

So, what was my point?   Ah, yes. If I’d written it down immediately, I’d remember it. Provided that I can remember exactly where I wrote it down. These days, things can even get lost in the labyrinth of files in my computer. That’s why I’ve learned to use the word “Blog” in the title of the file for every blog entry. Type that word into the search field and like magic – every blog related file appears.

It’s been a nice weekend — I enjoyed watching several excellent playoff games in the National Football League.  But after the Super Bowl (that happens on February 8, if you care to write it down) woe is me. I’ll have to reestablish my relationship with the Los Angeles Lakers and NBA Basketball. (Is the “Dancing With the Stars” show still on TV – maybe in its 200th or so season?).

All right. I’ve avoided work long enough. I’m off to my office to … well, I’m sure I’ll remember by the time I get there.

Alan

As you may already know, I’ve been writing this blog for more than ten years, and that means I’ve almost exhausted the mother lode of stories that I had to tell.

And yet, I’m not planning to stop writing this blog any time soon. After all, I’m only 85.  My father and aunt both lived to be more than 100.

This means I’ll most likely need to come up with close to a thousand more ideas to write about.  But I often find now that Nancy, my editor and friend for more than 500 blogs, has a better memory than I do.  Last week she encouraged me not to write about two of the three ideas I’d proposed.  Why?  “Already used.”  (She must think she has the memory of a thirty-year-old.  I don’t even remember what that was like.)

That’s the Pre-face.

The real face is, “Would it help.”

To remind you, in the movie Bridge of Spies, Tom Hanks plays the role of an attorney defending Mark Rylance (the alleged spy Rudolph Abel).  Hanks asks Rylance if he understands that if he is convicted, he could be executed.

“I do,” said Rylance.

“But you don’t seem to be upset,” Hanks said.

Ryland’s answer will stick with me forever (or for the next 15 years, whichever comes sooner), “Would it help?”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (possibly in another blog), if there is nothing further you can do to solve a problem, even one as serious as imminent death, why waste time and energy by worrying about it?

One way I achieve this is by staying in the moment.

My wife never asks me, “Did you miss me?”  She knows, by now, my answer.  I don’t miss people because I am focused on the person that I am with, not some phantom elsewhere in the universe.

And, as I’ve mentioned before, when a coworker asks me if I’m looking forward to a vacation, I know the polite answer is something like, “You bet.”  But my truth is that I begin to enjoy a vacation when I step into the airplane, and seldom a moment before.

So while I know there might be many things worrying you, this year I encourage you to immediately ask yourself, “Would it help?”  You already know my answer to that. (And, if not, maybe I’ll remind you next week.)

But my advice — don’t think about 2027 until about a year from now.

Alan

I love to watch football, a game I once played (emphasis on the once). I’ve shared this story before but today, on the eve of a new year, I find it appropriate to share it again.

When I was sixteen years old I participated in a five-week speech program at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. I travelled from Los Angeles and arrived early Sunday afternoon. Since I weighed more than two hundred pounds, I was immediately recruited to play in a game of “touch” football as a lineman.

On the first play the boy opposite me blew right past me, knocking me on my ass.

Second play. Same result.

Third play, I was not so lucky.

This time I tore a tendon in my leg. The good news is I had an excuse not to play any more football. The bad news is that each day I had to hobble from the dorm on one end of the campus to the classrooms on the other end — a distance of what seemed like at least ten miles.

At first I was accompanied by Becky, a girl from Indianapolis, but I think she got tired of walking slowly so I could keep up.

My proudest accomplishment was winning an award for discussion, though I still wonder about the significance of that award in a competitive speech program.

Also, in my defense, or lack of defense, I later discovered that my friendly football opponent, who so ably dispatched me to the ground multiple times, did have football experience.

He was an All-State guard from Tennessee (although only third string).

I have never pretended to be a football player since.

So why am I retelling this story now? Because the beginning of a new year is a time for reflection. This year I encourage you to double down on being your most authentic self. Trying to fit in by pretending to be someone you’re not will never serve you. And, as I discovered in my very brief football career, it might even set you back in ways you can’t even anticipate

I hope you’ll ring in the new year surrounded by those who love you for who you really are.

Alan