The Good Old Days

So Uncle D. is drving down the interstate and as I'm pulling onto the exit towards
home, I see this bumper sticker: "MY FACE LOOKS THE SAME, BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER
THE NAME." I laughed and thought, sheesh sounds like me... It's like the only thing
I can't remember is how forgetful I am....
And like, you know how "they" (whomever "they" are) say that the "forties" are the new "thirties"? Fuhgettaboudit! It seems to Uncle D. that the "fifties" are the OLD "fifties." You get my meaning? I think they call it selective memory, or defective memory,or part-time memory loss, or full time memory loss, whatever! I forget, anyways..... What was I saying? Oh yeah, Its like the old guy said, "Son, I've forgotten more about memory loss than you"ll ever know." And the kid's thinking, "I don't want to hear anymore geriatric jibberish about 'Back in the day', or 'when I was your age', or 'It used to be', or 'I can remember a day'! Just give me my inheritance and off I'll waddle!"
The old man will just smile and say..."do I know you?"

Ciao, Uncle D.
P.s. Maybe I should get some of that milk of amnesia. It could be that it might help.
You unnastand, I might have to mix it with a little Jack Daniels, just to be safe.