Spiteful Trajectory

[Enzo]

I made my bench top of 2x12s with a sheet of plywood on top. I then carpeted it, a sheet of carpet on top that wrapped over the front edge and up under the thing to be anchored in place. Over time the front edge frayed and wore until the upper front edge had worn through revealing the wood. The resulting free edge along the front edge gapped out a hair from the edge of the wood. Just enough space to catch things that fell off the edge of the bench top.

[Mick Bailey]

The most infuriating thing as I get older is not actually losing something, but placing it down and then spending ages trying to find it. My subconscious breadcrumb trail of where everything is and my mental map no longer serve me well. Use a screwdriver, absent-mindedly place it on top of a tin of paint. 30 seconds later, come to pick it up again and it's gone.

[nevetslab]

The most infuriating thing as I get older is not actually losing something, but placing it down and then spending ages trying to find it. My subconscious breadcrumb trail of where everything is and my mental map no longer serve me well. Use a screwdriver, absent-mindedly place it on top of a tin of paint. 30 seconds later, come to pick it up again and it's gone.

Ditto. Even when age hadn't yet pulled that trick on me, when I was at BGW Systems back in the early 80's, then thru the 90's.....traveling the 25,000 sq ft complex with a cup of coffee, I could NEVER remember where I left it, once I put it down to mentally involve myself with the task at hand. Or, what still plagues me to this day, leave the shop, walk down the hall, and then have NO idea what my intention was....gotta go all the way back to where I started, sit back down, and the reason for the trip hits me.

[Enzo]

Oh amen, brothers. I could use a nut driver, set it down beside me, and then ten minutes later can't find it.


And one I can only blame on myself. My bench was counter height, and I sat on a drafting stool. And I also had by me a square table on casters that sat at about the height of my stool seat - so lower than the bench. Probably about 30" square - a Fender Twin Reverb just hung over the edges a little. And that was the idea, instead of up on my bench, I could put a Twin on the table, and it sat in front of me. I could spin it around on the wheels. Perfect height to pull the chassis and plop that on the bench.

One day I was working on something, soldering. The something was on that table. I put my roll of solder down on the table, picked up my iron from the bench behind me, and turned back...and my solder was gone. I turned back...not on the bench, turned to the table again, nowhere. Did I put it inside the unit? No. Behind it? No. BAffled, I sat down on my stool, and THERE, revealed from hiding under my protruding belly, was my roll of solder on the corner of the table.

[Chuck H]

The most infuriating thing as I get older is not actually losing something, but placing it down and then spending ages trying to find it. My subconscious breadcrumb trail of where everything is and my mental map no longer serve me well. Use a screwdriver, absent-mindedly place it on top of a tin of paint. 30 seconds later, come to pick it up again and it's gone.

It's gotten to where I've had to stop asking my wife about things that aren't where there supposed to be. She knows I'm asking because I "believe" it must be her that misplaced it! Not so much anymore. Starting an argument about who's wrong (whether it's ME or otherwise) is always a bad thing for the relationship anyway. But yeah, I'm out of information pockets. If something new goes in it seems that something else has to go out

[g1]

It's gotten to where I've had to stop asking my wife about things that aren't where there supposed to be. She knows I'm asking because I "believe" it must be her that misplaced it!

The neighbour with alzheimers was always talking about the guys who came around at night and stole tools from the shed.

[Enzo]

I can't have those conversations with my wife. I could swear I still had a hunk of cheese or something, but I might have used it and forgot, so "Honey, did you finish off my cheese?" I will never get a yes or no answer. "Oh you can have some of mine." or "What do you need it for?" I don't want yours, I just want to know if my memory of having some was correct..

Jeff Altman once reported the difference between men and women. You go to someone's home for dinner and they cook steaks. (yeah, I know, as if...) And you ask, "Where did you buy these steaks?" The man will say "Oh, I got them at Joe's meat market." The woman will say, "Why, what's wrong with them?"