My Dad's Brain

I've seen my Dad's brain.  Well, a cat-scan of his brain, anyway.  It ain't pretty.  My brain, I suppose, is very much like my father's.  As I age, my brain will probably slowly fill with spinal fluid also.  That's one of the mark of us Outcalts.  Our brains fill up.  Just when we are hitting our stride, filling our brains with useful knowledge and coming into our own, our brains betray us. 

I've been filling my brain with knowledge for years.  Most of this knowledge involves words, phrases, memorization.  But the older I get, the less of it I can remember.

Recently I couldn't remember where I had tucked a short story I had written some years back.  I knew I had written it (surely wasn't my imagination . . . well, actually it was my imagination).  I'm still looking for the file, but I have three computers that I have to search and a TON of floppy disks.  A filing system won't help me, either.  I would just forget where I filed it.

Now that my Dad's brain is getting full, I'm eager to see how full I can get mine--how much can I pack in there?  The way I figure it, if I can empty out some of my useless information (wife's birthday, our anniversary date and such . . . ) I'll have more room for useful info.

I'm still trying to figure this out.  But I gotta have a brain to do it . . . and a cooperative wife.