Okay, boys and girls — time for a personal confession: You might not know it to look at me, but I have the memory skills of an 87-year-old sloth.

It’s a strangely specific comparison, I realize. But after years of highly scientific self-analysis and countless instances of forgetting things, I’ve realized my brain reached maximum capacity approximately nine years ago. Even with an SD card stuck into my ear (hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying), new data just rarely gets recorded.

All right — so maybe I’m exaggerating a little. But the truth is that most things simply go in one ear and out the other these days, including my own (occasional — I swear I have ’em sometimes) bright ideas. So when something important pops into my noggin, be it from my own twisted thoughts or someone else’s prodding, I’ve learned to jot it down and make sure I’ll be able to find it again when I need it.

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