A few weeks ago, I was riding back from the airport with a smiley happy cab driver who had a Phil Collins CD on repeat throughout the drive. He was singing along the entire time and seemed pretty blissful about it. I, on the other hand, was experiencing an extreme case of self-dislike as I sung along in my head to every single line of “Groovy Kind of Love.” I couldn’t help it, the words popped into my head as Phil (and my driver) crooned them from the front seat. Why, why, WHY must I know every word to this song, even though I haven’t heard it in years?

Why is my brain wasting all of this precious memory on these cheesy lyrics that I have zero desire to remember? What else am I missing out on? For every “Ice, Ice Baby” there’s bound to be a current event I could be more knowledgeable about. For every “How Can I Live Without You?” there’s an important birthday that I’m just never going to remember.

And what’s going to happen as I grow older, and continue to pack my memory with more and more music that I don’t want to remember? (But just can’t seem to forget…)