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Differently Cognizant by
Elizabeth Bussey Sowdal | |
My
husband and I, when out with our elderly relatives, have often exchanged glances,
nudged each other surreptitiously in the ribs, and suppressed giggles at the things
they sometimes say. "Hey there, Porkchop! Looks like they're feeding you pretty
well at college!" "Now honey, you are such a beautiful girl, I just can't imagine
why you would do something like that to your hair!" "Hey Slugger! Howzza boy?
You get a job and get some money in your pocket and maybe you can get a decent
looking girl to go out with ya!"
I read somewhere recently - okay, I
read on the internet recently - I just like to say "somewhere" because I think
it makes me sound like I subscribe to and read so many scholarly journals that
I can't keep them straight, and that's the ugly truth of it. So, I read on the
internet recently that the elderly lose some of their social constraint because
as we age our frontal lobes begin to shrink. Why should this come as any surprise?
Everything else shrinks or stretches or gets wobbly. Why not our brains? As our
frontal lobes shrivel up like old oranges, we lose the ability to censor ourselves
and we just say whatever it is that we are thinking. Regardless of whether it
is polite or hurtful or racist or bigoted. This is an explanation, it is not an
excuse.
After having spent a lot of time with elderly relatives lately,
and after having read that article (Yes! I believe everything I read on the internet,
dagnabbit! Everything!) I have been doing some thinking. Why is it that some people
seem to have much less restraint than their contemporaries? As an example, I cannot
imagine my grandmother ever saying anything mean. It couldn't happen. I have known
her for quite a while and I have never heard her say a mean word about anyone.
I did, however, hear her say "damn it" one time, and not under her breath either,
and I thought the world might freeze on its axis. But that is a different story.
I wonder if hydration has anything to do with it. Maybe it is just a matter of
genes - the way that some people go gray in their forties and some people never
do.
I have been thinking about myself and my brain lately, and I have
been trying hard to catch myself saying something I shouldn't. Just exactly as
you might expect from a woman who thinks every headache is a brain tumor, I have
become aware that I may have some issues in the cognition department. This worries
me sometimes, but then I get distracted and I am better. Here's an example for
you: I recently got a new car, new to me anyway, and it has a key fob with buttons
to lock the doors, unlock the doors and open the trunk. Nice. Handy. Only it worried
me a bit. What, I asked my husband, would I do if the doors were locked and the
battery in the key fob died? I would be in a big pickle then, wouldn't I? What
if I was at the grocery store with a whole cart loaded with frozen food and a
big windstorm came and I couldn't get the door open and I didn't have my cell
phone and then the store closed and then a big blizzard started? Just where would
I be then, huh? In, as I said, a big pickle, that's where!
My husband
still has a big fat juicy brain. He is a problem solver of the highest degree.
He just took the key fob from me and showed me the way that the key fits right
in the door lock as if it was made for it! Whoops! Silly me! I giggled right along
with him. For a few minutes. I finally decided that enough was enough and asked
him very politely to quit rolling around on the grass screeching like a hyena.
I informed him that I was not stupid, I was just "differently cognizant." Oh!
He thought that was a rich one!
"Differently cognizant" is his new favorite
phrase. He uses it all the time now. How I wish that I had kept my smart mouth
shut for once and just left him there guffawing in the grass! But no, not me.
I had to give him a nice little bullet which he can use for years and years to
come! Juuuuust great! Oh! Is that a kitty cat? | |
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