A “Star-Spangled” senior moment

This story originally appeared in the February 17 issue of The Trussville Tribune.

Along with every other patriotic football fan in the country, I cringed when Christina Aguilera botched the words to “The Star-Spangled Banner” during the Super Bowl earlier this month. As soon as it happened, I knew she was in for some unwelcome media attention. You don’t goof up like that in a packed stadium, not to mention in front of millions of TV viewers, without paying some kind of price.

But in my opinion, she got what she deserved. With a little forethought, the whole mangled mess could have easily been avoided. I mean, good grief, if you’re going to sing for a crowd that size, at least have the good sense to use a teleprompter or write the words on your hand. Didn’t the girl learn how to cheat on a test like everybody else who ever went to grammar school?

On the other hand, I’ve got to admit that Christina was in a tough spot. No matter how seasoned a performer may be, the Super Bowl would have to rank right up there with a starving lion’s den at suppertime as one of the most intimidating venues ever. So I’ll give her that much. But that’s even more reason to spend a little time and effort preparing not to fail. Just sayin’.

But I was no more horrified with Christina’s faux pas than I was when I tried to recall the correct order of the phrases in the national anthem and encountered a memory lapse of my own. So what’s up with that? I’ve known and cherished those words since second grade, and to suddenly forget how they all fit together was a little unnerving.

I hate to say this out loud, so I’m going to whisper it very quietly: Could this and other periodic brain glitches I’ve been experiencing lately be (gasp!) senior moments?

I fear it may be true. The signs are all there. I’ve begun hunting reading glasses perched on my head and car keys I’m holding in my hand. I’ll put important things away in special places and can never find them again. I’ll wash a load of clothes and forget to throw them in the dryer before mildew sets in, and I have to wash them again.

The short-term memory is fading fast, which doesn’t explain why I’d forget the lyrics to a song I’ve known since I was a kid. So it looks like the long-term memory isn’t in such good shape, either. But I can remember the name of a substitute teacher in my first-grade class, while I can’t remember the date of a hair appointment I made yesterday.

I’m reminded of the Sunday afternoons Mama and I used to visit Meemaw Flowers in the nursing home. Well into her eighties, my grandmother could readily spin tales of her childhood, once describing in great detail and with perfect clarity a tulip tree in her parents’ backyard. But she couldn’t remember our visit two weeks before – or that she’d told the same story and described the same tree to us then.

Thankfully, though, my “Star-Spangled” moment was brief. I managed to remember the song by singing it through a couple of times, causing the parrot to set up an ear-splitting ruckus and the Chihuahuas to perk up their ears and tilt their heads as if to say, “What’s all that racket you’re making? And can you please make it stop?” At least Christina has a decent singing voice, even if she has to make up the lyrics as she goes along. (I could make a mean crack about blondes here, but I won’t. This time.)

The backlash from my memory lapse was minimal, nothing compared to the media frenzy Christina suffered through. In my case, once the parrot stopped squawking and the dogs settled down, the incident was pretty much forgotten.

But alas, in Christina’s case, the bungled words won’t be forgotten until the next time somebody famous botches “The Star-Spangled Banner” on national TV. Given the difficulty of the tune and the phrasing that nobody truly understands, I predict that won’t be very long at all.