Too Many Bozos

It’s driving me crazy—today’s date rings with significance, but I can’t think of why. First, I thought it was perhaps a friend’s birthday. But when I texted my sister to verify, she corrected me. Sure enough, a look at my calendar for next month, and my friend’s birthday is written right there on another day. A flip back at this month, however, and today’s date is blank.

This must be carry-over from when I used to try to remember every date of possible significance. For real.

At one time, I knew when every pet we had ever had was born…and when they were sold or given away. I knew the birthday of everyone I knew, and probably what day they came over for dinner as well. I carefully kept a mental catalog of any date of significance that I thought I may someday want to refer to.

Because I raised dairy goats, some of these dates truly were at least briefly significant. (It’s good to know how old the kids are when you are selling them.) But I think in the end, I just had “too many Bozos.”

Years ago, we had a book of children’s stories. My favorite was of a little boy named Danny Drake (pictured above) who desperately wanted a puppy. He already had a name picked out—“Bozo.” Unfortunately, his mother would not allow him to get a dog. To assuage his grief and fill his need for a pet, he found puppy-substitutes—a frog, a mouse, a colony of ants, and he affectionately named them all Bozo. In a series of pet-caused disasters, Danny’s mother banned the other pets one by one. But in the end, she told him that he had “too many Bozos,” and she allowed him to get a puppy. (As you can see, it was a heart-warming story with a happy ending.)

Today’s frustration is probably carry-over from the old days, one of the “goat dates” that somehow etched itself in my mind. Too bad it’s significance didn’t stay with it.

Before you fault my propensity for memorizing dates, I would hasten to add that there were benefits to this practice. The upside was that I was able to remember usually-forgotten anniversaries of true significance—like when widows in our church lost their husband, or when friends had major life-changing events.

The downside was that my mind was so cluttered with meaningless dates I finally lost track of most of them.

I now keep my dates in a calendar. And I’ve limited my calendar to holding only the truly significant dates.

But what is it about today’s date that is ringing a bell even though my calendar page is empty? And why would I share such frustration with you?

I write this post for three reasons:

  1. Its silliness is a frustration-releaser—you know, a kind of therapy to recover from my OCD tendencies.
  2. If I know you and today is your birthday or another significant event in your life, I’m hoping you’ll tell me!
  3. It is a good reminder of the beauty of simplicity…and calendars. Sometimes full minds are a signal of overcrowded lives. I’m thankful I let the Bozos go.

Hey, I think I just remembered! Today was the due date for my apologetics research project two years ago. At least, I think it was…