My friend Merl is such a sweet guy. The last time he visited me, he left me a little package wrapped in white rice paper and a curly red bow, hinting that it was a special gift.

He told me to open it on my birthday several weeks away, since he couldn't be with me that day. What a nice guy, thinking ahead that way. I'm glad he's in my life.

That's one of the advantages of getting older. We're a little wiser than we used to be (we hope) and recognize what nourishes us and what doesn't. We no longer have the need to hang around people who don't treat us right or the time to do things we don't really want to do - life's too short for that.

Wisdom is just one of the many advantages of getting older. There are others, but I just can't remember what they are at the moment. Which brings up one of the disadvantages of getting older: memory, or what's left of it.

Thoughts and memories used to stack up so neatly in my brain like a well-organized filing cabinet. Now the office of my mind is in sad disarray, cobwebs strung from ear to ear. Last week I held a little dinner party at my house - six people were invited for this shindig, which included a yellow tablecloth, flowers in a vase, and even salad forks, for heaven's sake. When we came to the table to eat, I realized I had only set six place settings, thanks to my dried up old brain that had forgotten to count myself in the party. Everyone got a good laugh about that one as we rearranged the plates and silverware to add a place for me. I laughed right along with them. Yea right, ha ha ha.

Am I the only one whose nieces or nephews or fifth-grade boys we tutor (note how young all these people are) tell us with feigned politeness, "You already told me that, Aunt Ida Mae"? So sue me - I forgot I told you something once already, or maybe five times - at least I talk to you!

Secretly, it makes me happy when I hear others halt mid-sentence with no idea what they were about to say or to see them walk with great intention into a room, then stop abruptly, not remembering what they went in there for.

A friend of mine scheduled a hard-to-get doctor's appointment and anxiously waited three months for it to arrive, even talking about it a few days beforehand, only to forget about it when the day finally rolled around. Why the mind will remember the words of a 40-yearold jingle one day then turn around and go on such mini-vacations the next is beyond me.

What about losing your car in the mall parking lot? Whose idea was it to make every car silver or black or maroon anyway? One friend of mine wandered for half an hour around a big parking lot looking for her car until a man came up to her and asked "Did you lose it?"

Whether he meant her mind or her car, the answer was "yes," but at least he helped her find the car once she managed to squeeze the first three numbers of her license plate out of the little holes in the sieve of her mind.

And don't get me started on names! The obvious answer to this dilemma is that everyone should be required to wear a name tag wherever they go. Social events would be so much easier.

Perhaps related to the weakening of the memory muscles brought on by age is the inability to hold on to a linear thought. Instead our ideas jump around like crazed crickets and we forget where we started out.

For instance, didn't I begin this article talking about something really important? Oh, yes - my friend Merl, and what a sweet guy he is for thinking ahead and leaving me that special birthday gift. I have the idea that this might be an important gift, so I made sure to put it in a very special place.

I just hope I can remember where I put it before my birthday rolls around.

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