In all of my adult life, not once has any employer, relative or stranger asked, “Hey, what’s the 31st element on the periodic table?”

They do want to know why I missed the meeting, lost my password or forgot to put on pants, but never has anyone cared about the periodic table or any of the then-106 elements cluttering up the thing.

And yet, back in my school days in the 1970s, our chemistry teacher tested us on our memorization of the elements on that table.

(There are now 118 elements blocked in on the periodic table. Apparently, a dozen elements lay forgotten in a corner. And the chem teacher gave me bad grades?)

This is why I can’t remember anything now. Schoolwork required that I memorize so much useless stuff, that as the years rolled along, I couldn’t wedge another fact, face or figure into my brain. My data banks were so clogged with state capitals, poetic quotes and the times “I” doesn’t come before “E,” that everything else leaked out.

Yet, at no job interview in my life has a recruiter asked me the date that George Washington crossed the Mississippi to invade Billings, Montana (Oct. 4, 1776) or my thoughts on the Pythagorean theorem (needs more salt, but it’s not bad with ketchup).

Ask me my childhood phone number and I’ll recite it without hesitation. I might even throw in Cousin Scott’s and Grandma Cole’s phone numbers for no extra charge.

But if the boss asks me if I finished that important assignment he gave me yesterday, I will look him in the eye and without hesitation say, “What assignment?”

To this day, I can tell you, without looking it up, Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points in a single basketball game on March 2, 1962, in Hershey, Pa. He hit 36 of 63 shots from the field and an amazing 28 of 32 from the free throw line.

THAT, I can remember. And THAT does no good when you misplace a birthday, anniversary or your spouse’s name. (Would not recommend.)

A Facebook friend of mine posed the question about what is the most useless thing we have memorized.

Answers ranged from the standard annoyances — all the U.S. presidents in order, all 50 states in alphabetical order to geometry.

Some respondents mentioned song lyrics. (Eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-nii-eee-iinnne, anyone? Jenny, do you recall?)

Put a Partridge Family LP from 1970 or 1971 on the record player and I still can sing along word for word. That’s another skill that has never come in handy at a job interview.

Caution: If you want me to recite lyrics from the old songs, I warn you, I memorized them before the invention of Google. I couldn’t look up the words. My memory banks worked but my hearing did not. For years, I belted out, “Horse and sleigh, horse and sleigh,” along with Aerosmith, only to finally discover Steven Tyler actually was screaming, “Walk this way, walk this way.”

I never could make out anything Stevie Nicks was singing, but I sang along anyway, committing to memory — while demolishing names and numbers I needed — totally weird lyrics. (Why that one-winged dove kept singing, “Ooh, baby, ooh,” I never figured out.)

Is it any wonder I can’t remember where I parked my car? Or if I drove or walked? Or why I came here in the first place?

If you see me wandering aimlessly down the sidewalk, muttering, “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. … Have fun storming the castle,” please, my address is in my shirt pocket. I never remember that’s where I put it in case I forget where I’m going. Again.

Just point me in the right direction and sing, “Walk this way.” I’ll whinny my thanks.

Recall the old days with Cole at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook. P.S. The 31st element on the periodic table is gallium. Not that Burt will remember.