Ann Ipock
            Humorist, author, speaker

Georgetown Times Column

Will you remind me?

By Ann Ipock                                           September 08, 2004

I’ve been hearing the following phrase a lot lately from folks I know — and sometimes it’s even me, saying, “Will you remind me…” As in, “Will you remind me to tell you what the mechanic said about our tires?” Or, “Will you remind me to pick up Eva Claire’s birthday present?” Or, “Will you remind me to bring in the groceries?” (I once forgot three grocery bags, leaving them in my trunk overnight. Eeeeeeew! I never again look at a pack of ham now in quite the same way.)

For as long as I can remember, in the Ipock family, one of us is always saying to a second person, “Remind me...” about something or other — but the second person never does. So now we’ve involved a third person as a backup, who also never reminds. For instance: I ask Russell, my husband, to remind me of something. He, in turn, asks Katie, our daughter, to remind him to remind me. And you just know what happens next: All of this “passing the buck” leaves the original message undelivered, forever floating around somewhere in ‘Reminder La-La Land.’ It would probably make more sense when the first person says, “Will you remind me?” for the second person to simply say, “No,” because he/she probably never will.

Sometimes I resort to sticky notes for reminders, which work a little better. A few days ago I stuck “green beans” to the back door — no, not the green beans themselves, but a note telling Russell to grab a dish of green beans out of the refrigerator and take it to work for an office function. I’ve even tried reminders using my computer: Yesterday I sent Russell an email reminding him to make an important phone call, which he didn’t do. Can you guess why? He forgot to read his email — guess he needed a reminder for that too.
And, as of late, this morbid, sordid disease that I’m calling “reminditis” has expanded to my friends. Maybe I’ve got something that’s “catching?” Often times when my friend Carolyn and I set up a luncheon date over the phone, we begin with the usual, “What day can you go? Where do you want to eat? What time?” But we usually end the conversation with, “Remind me to tell you…” But there again, we usually forget to remind each other.

I decided to try a new “plan” when we met the other day at a cozy nearby restaurant. Before I got up to run to the ladies’ room, I stuffed a napkin into Carolyn’s hand and blurted out, “Remind me to tell you about this.” She just stared at the blurry ink where I’d scrawled out a few key words on a damp napkin, while waiting for her to arrive. When I came back and sat down, I deciphered the hieroglyphics aloud: “Hair, Atlanta, vacation, pizza.” About that time, she slid over a napkin of her own. It read: “Paint, dinner club, festival, Greenville.” ‘Way to go!’ I thought. But then the waitress came over and we got caught up in a lengthy conversation, discussing how we wanted our fish cooked (they offered a choice of five ways! And we had to tell her what two sides we wanted — all veggies, or a starch and a veggie, or all starches). You know — important stuff. After lunch, I came home, laid my pocket book down, and out tumbled that damp, coded napkin. I realized then that we hadn’t discussed my list or hers and I know why: There was NO TIME. The entire two hours were filled up with other unplanned — but still interesting — items that were not on the list. So maybe this isn’t just a memory problem. Maybe it’s also a time sensitive issue.

I’ve been thinking lately of some solutions: Starting with lunch conversation: How about if now we write on the list those key words and then we take turns speaking. No one is allowed to move on to a new subject until we finish the first subject, and we can’t interrupt. Like, if Carolyn is discussing the newest Chico store coming to a town nearer us — we only wish — I can’t jump in with words like ‘cute little black dress’ (no matter how antsy I become) until she finishes talking. I, on the other hand, cannot be interrupted by Carolyn if I’m talking about my best friend’s son getting married back home, with her saying, “themed wedding” until I’m done. Of course, the problem with that is we’ll probably both forget what we wanted to say in the first place. (Nothing is simple any more. This is just one issue of many we Baby Boomers are facing. Bless our hearts.)

I told Russell tonight while having dinner out that I was feeling kind of spacey in general lately; frustrated, unorganized, and definitely distracted. Since he loves to give me advice, I eagerly awaited his thoughts: He suggested — are you ready — “Why don’t you make a list?” “Do what?” I said, blinking repeatedly. “You know, write things down, so you won’t forget them,” he said, searching my face for signs of comprehension. You could’ve heard me scream all the way to Columbia! I’ve been married to this man for almost twenty-five years and he doesn’t already know that I make lists? I couldn’t resist. I said slowly and deliberately, “Honey, will you remind me to tell you this later,” as I wrote down these key words: “Strangers. Memory. Misunderstood. Solutions.” Then I plopped the napkin in his hand. We’ll definitely talk about this tomorrow, if someone will just remind me.

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