RIVER CITY JOURNAL: I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU ... REALLY ...

Give me a minute, and I'll think of what it was, because I know you're dying to find out, if only I can remember what it is.

For years, I've had what I call "old-timers" disease. This is not to be confused with Alzheimer's disease, a serious illness about which there is little that is funny.

Old-timers, on the other hand, is a hoot. It struck me when I was in my 30s. I know friends and acquaintances that have been hit in their late 20s.

The affliction can take various forms. For me, for example, it is obvious when I go to rent a movie video. I can't remember which ones I've seen and which ones I haven't. Sometimes I rent three or four at a time on the off chance at least one of them will be something we haven't seen before.

Or I get the videos home, and my wife asks what they're about and who stars in them. "It's a thriller. I think. With really, really big stars."

I don't always say that. Sometimes I say the movies have just "big stars" without the "really, really."

My wife isn't always amused.

Another manifestation of old-timers disease is when you become more and more like your parents. Our sons, both in their 20s still, have a mild case of old-timers, although they don't know it and sure as heck wouldn't admit it if you pointed it out to them.

No, our sons get this look every time my old-timers flares up. They don't know it, but it's the same look I used to get with my parents and my in-laws who, heavens knows, have had their own bouts with old-timers.

There was a story in the paper recently about some mice that scientists at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology are studying. The scientists created a mutant strain of mice that are missing a part of the brain that lets them remember where they've been.

I know exactly how those mice must feel. Although no mad scientists have been tinkering with my brain -- heck, how would I know, what with my old-timers and all? -- I can relate to not knowing where you've been. I can even sympathize with those mice if they don't know why they are where they are right now.

Haven't you ever been pushing a cart down the aisle at the grocery store only to come to a dead stop because you have no clue what it is you want to get? Aha! Maybe you've had a twinge of old-timers too.

Sometimes I go from one room to another at home only to discover that I don't know why. Sure, I know I went into another room to do something, or get something, or say something. Or something.

My wife makes lists. Sometimes she makes lists for me. The problem is that there is no surefire way to make me look at the list at whatever critical time it is important. It reminds me of the forgetful uncle in "It's a Wonderful Life" who kept tying string around his fingers but forgetting why. Been there. Done that.

The MIT scientists are ecstatic about their forgetful mice. It proves, they say, that a single missing protein or even a corrupt gene affects memory.

Yes, but will they be able to put the protein or gene back into the mice? Will they remember what they took out so they know what to put back in?

Gosh, do you think any of those MIT bigwigs have old-timers?

Those of us with old-timers sure can think of a lot of things to worry about. The good news: Tomorrow I won't remember what I was worrying about yesterday.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.