It was national Let’s Get All Serious About 9-11 day. Three thousand killed in one dramatic day with vivid television images. How about 250 times as many, 700 thousand and counting, lost to a virus in 18 months But not in one day and place no decent TV. Oh well.
Anyway, went for a pleasant walk, picked up a pastry at the farmers market, and basically passed the middle of the day in pleasant quiet.
Now, here’s the disturbing part. I had booked a ticket to see a play at the Pear theater, at 8pm. Put it in the google calendar. Printed the e-ticket and put it on the table by the door. Reminded myself of it in the morning. Had seen and deleted two emails from The Pear about “glad you are coming don’t forget your proof of vaccination.”
But from supper time on, I just forgot it entirely. Watched another episode of Firefly on the DVD player. Remembered that I’d taught Joanna how to set up the sound for the big TV on the 11th floor, and resolved to go make sure it was working for her, before her 8pm show. And did that, went up and hung out on 11 until 8 to see that her concert was well started. She had no problems; about a dozen people came to hear Verdi’s Requiem, and I went downstairs and watched the start of the Stanford-USC football game. And not long after half-time (latest-starting PAC-12 game ever), I went to bed.
Having forgotten all about the play, and all about making a blog entry too.
Now, this is not unique. I remember very well indeed how I had booked myself for the Boogie Woogie Festival at SFJAZZ, one summer Sunday in 2019, and forgot all about it until late that day. That still rankles.
Yesterday I wrote about Bill B., whose memory is shot, so he only remembers recent events for half a day. And knows it. And makes wry jokes about it. But it’s not a good life he’s living.