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PhotobucketLately, I have been forgetting things more often than I could remember.

I’m sure it’s not Alzheimer’s disease. I believe the condition is called by another name. I just forgot what the name was.

I have become so forgetful I sometimes forget what I forgot.

Over the years, the list of stuff I bring to the show has grown long. It is just impossible to keep track of everything in the list. The result is that I often leave props and stuff at home and suffer horrific moments of panic as I scamper to restructure the show at the venue.

PhotobucketI also forget things when leaving the performance venue after an event and only discover the missing items when we are kilometers away on our trip back home. You can imagine the ruckus inside my van when I realize I left a prop or equipment at the party area.

The memory experts told me to use memory aids to help me remember—like making a checklist. I was sold to the idea, except that when time came for me to make the list, you guessed it, I forgot making it.

Eventually, I was able to make the checklist. You guessed it again.I still often leave stuff at home, because I forget to check the checklist.

Here are just some of the annoying real-time occurrences when I forgot something during a live a performance:

  • During the show, I triggered the switch of a production box, but the bunny did not appear. I forgot to load it beforehand.
  • I asked a volunteer assistant her name. She told me. A little while later, I asked her again. Then again a few moments later. The spectacle was like a running gag. Actually it’s just my memory misfiring repeatedly.
  • PhotobucketI once performed the Card Sword. My volunteer assistant threw the deck of cards in the air, and, using my sword, I picked her chosen card off the air.She was not impressed. Nor was the audience. It turned out, to my chagrin, she had not chosen a card. I forgot to force it to her.
  • PhotobucketOn the drive home, I suddenly remember I didn’t have my suit jacket with me. It was stuffed with Ring Flite, Mullica Wallet, gimmicked cards and assorted close-up props worth well over P8,000. The following day I returned to the restaurant where I performed and found the jacket gone. As is in magically gone. It disappeared without a trace. No waiter, janitor, supervisor or manager could tell me where it went to. I knew memory failure could be contagious, but I didn’t realize it was that contagious as to affect the entire restaurant staff.
  • At one time and another, I had left at the party venue a microphone stand, Sennheiser wireless microphone, and various props. I made a U-turn to retrieve them. If I were to count the number of U-turns I have made over the years, it would seem there are no other letters in the alphabet except the letter U.
  • I had also left evidence of my evil deeds. Once, after a performance, as I was heading for my van, I suddenly realized I left the Anderson Torn-and-Restored Newspaper on the stage. I rushed back inside the venue, and found the waiters, like CIS investigators examining a dead body, poring over the newspaper, their eyes twinkling with the joy of a sudden epiphany.

Incredible memory failures, huh?

There are other things I forgot, but I couldn’t tell you about them because I can’t remember them all.

Stay magical,