November 6, 2013 Article

The Old Coot says men don’t remember.

By Merlin Lessler

Men don’t remember. And, not just old coots like me. All men. Just ask their wives: birthdays, anniversaries or what she said ten seconds earlier. It’s a serious malady. It’s inborn and appears to intensify when a wedding ring is slipped over the 3^rd finger of the left hand. Apparently, that little gold ring causes the memory cells that store relationship information to shrink and expands the cells that retain sports statistics. 

A man can tell you exactly how many passes Phil Simms completed (22) in Superbowl XXI and that the Giants beat the Broncos 39 to 20 – how many points Wilt-the-stilt made when he set the all time scoring record in 1962 (100) - and the number of times Mickey Mantle won the batting championship (four, 1555, 1956, 1958, 1960). But, ask him the date of his wedding anniversary and all you’ll get is a blank stare. Even if his wife agreed to get married on the Fourth of July, so he’d never forget the date.

“Oh yea, that’s right, “ he says when she reminds him for the fifteenth time in fifteen years of marriage. He says it again when she asks him to get the grill ready for the picnic. “What picnic?” he asks. And then is reminded for the sixth time in six days, “For our Fourth-of-July picnic. Your parents, my parents and our wedding party are coming over to celebrate our anniversary!” And again, he says, “Oh yea, that’s right.”

Oh yea, that’s right,” is his most frequently spoken sentence. It pops out every time his shrunken memory cells fail him. Anniversaries, birthdays, children’s ages, year in school, teacher’s name, all are lost to the average male. There is no room to store that kind of information. His head is filled with sports statistics.

Smart phones are offering a glimmer of hope. But only if a man’s wife programs the calendar function on the device. “Today is Bobby’s birthday,” his smart phone might announce. “He’s in 3^rd grade, turning 6; his teacher’s name is Mrs. Badger.” And in extreme cases, for men who overdo their sports focus (those enrolled in more than three fantasy football leagues) the phone also has to add, “Bobby is your son.”

No one is sure if the new technology will solve the problem completely. It is true that men are now better informed about marriage and family matters due to smart phones, but they still need to be taught that things like birthdays and anniversaries are important to other people. “Really, the fact that it was on this date, fifteen years ago we got married is significant?” a memory cell deprived male will ask. Demonstrating just how far society has to go to make men socially viable. As for old coots like me, well, it’s too late. We’ve evolved into another species entirely.