My one hundred and eleventy fifth birthday present to myself (I’ll share)…

As it’s my one hundredth and eleventy fifth birthday today, I thought I might do a quick check. There is an old joke about a Jewish man being knocked down by a car and when he gets up he blesses himself by making the sign of the cross. The driver of the car at first checks that the man is not hurt and when he discovers that the man he hit is uninjured, the confusion hits him.

“You’re Jewish?” He enquires, observing the obvious from the man’s attire.  When the man tells him that he is indeed Jewish, the driver of the car then asks why he blessed himself to which the Jewish man answers,

“Bless myself? I didn’t bless myself! I was just checking.”  The driver asks what he was checking.

“Spectacles, testicles, heart and wallet”

I’m a bit like that these days.   As the years pass, I have become more conscious of the possibility, if not the likelihood that I may someday soon, forget more things than I care to remember.  I am constantly grabbing my back pocket or slapping places where pockets should be and shouting “My keys!” or “My Wallet!” only to discover they are exactly where they should be.   Those who love me most are familiar with my antics and make fun of me for this particular foible. When I was a younger man I wouldn’t get upset about such things, but as the years sneak by, I have started to wonder if in fact I’m forgetting more than I should.  I guess I am not alone in that fear and although I am still a young man in my head; my recent medical dilemmas have made me question things more and more.

Because I write, I worry that I will struggle with language.  That would be such a monstrous and tragic thing for me it really would.  To lose words would kill me.  So, I have chosen to start this day off, this very special day, my one hundredth and eleventy fifth birthday, by adding to my vocabulary, and indeed yours. I am making up a new word for my birthday, a word that is all mine, but I will share it with you.  Hey… that’s the kind of generous guy I am. If you’re thinking ‘you cant just do that’ well you’re wrong.  I can do whatever I like…It’s my birthday!

I’ve looked it up and while there may possibly be a word in another language spelled this way, there is no English equivalent that I know of and that word – My new word and gift to the English language and myself is Aphisma.  I plan to sneak it into my new latest book. Of course I’ll be gutted if the word already exists so please don’t tell me if I’m wrong. I will be Aphismatic.

Aphisma A.fiz.ma. (Noun) Meaning ; loss of ability to remember where you left something leading you to slap your body in search of the said object only to then realise you are an idiot and your glasses are in fact on your head.

Use example – The extensive bruising to his torso and buttocks, was caused by his acute aphisma. Who would have known searching for things you haven’t lost about your body could cause so much pain.

Happy Birthday to me… best present of today… so far !!!

Max Power’s books include, Darkly Wood, Larry Flynn Bad Blood and Little Big Boy

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