Other than convincing me not to exercise, that is, which is a constant battle — the body’s all ready to go for a ride, and the brain isn’t liking the looks of those teenagers, or those clouds, or the possibility of especially stinky road kill (hey, five rides so far this year and no visible road kill so far). It’s really not my brain’s job to keep my body alive.
It is its job to have some space available for current tasks, however, and so it is annoying that I can’t remember what I had for lunch, can’t remember where I’m supposed to be tomorrow morning (daughter’s honors breakfast — be there!), BUT by god, if a bad ’70s rock song that I never liked by a band I never cared for comes on the satellite, my brain will skillfully perform a task assigned to it more than 30 years ago and prompt me to sing along, every word. Every awful, hated word. The lyrics to a Bad Company song will stay with me forever; what time I need to pick up a daughter at dance is something I need to double-check every single day. Don’t tell me your brain is your friend!