Me and my brain
"A mind is a terrible thing." This urban legend misquote has always stuck with me, mostly because I know what it means. My brain just will not shut off, it's always turning on something useless. The only time it is quiet is when I am painting, then all is calm. The little preschool nursery going on upstairs has naptime and I just paint without a thought. When it's on I call it spin class or congress. Lots of busy but no progress made. Oh sure, like anything else, there is both a positive and negative side to it. When it is in seek mode (and I have lost the remote years ago) it finds all sorts of things to ponder and connect. I've had a lot of pretty cool ideas over the years, things that I cannot take credit for, they just pop out once in a while. Or, one of the downsides, my brain will latch onto something and just start coming up with ways to explain. The top picture is an example of something I (my brain) pinged on.
It's nothing of consequence, just two identical cars parked in two handicapped spots. Most people would not give this a notice but my brain latched on to it. What are the odds? Is there a reason for this statistical anomaly? Two cars of identical make, model and color sitting in two, not three or five, handizones. What could be the reason for this? Perhaps identical twins with identical disabilities who buy identical stuff went early to the mall for the free air conditioning. Maybe the local dealership dispatched its star pair of handicapped sales people for ice cream cones... job well done you two! Maybe there is an elderly red Kia club that meets every wednesday at the Altamonte mall food court for chess and cokes. Perhaps there's an association called NARCOWiG, the National Association of Red Compact Owners with Gout. Could be a meaningful message from angels... I don't know. What I do know is that I worked on it for a while before I came to the same conclusion that I always do. It doesn't matter.
Case #212-M. My now ex-wife and I were taking a romantic stroll on the beach many, many years back. It was near the port in Cape Canaveral as I recall. We walked hand in hand, strolling barefooted in the white sugar sand at dusk, it was a precious time.... until we came upon another statistical anomaly. A dead armadillo. Washed up on the shore, all bloated, feet up in a bed of seaweed like a redneck luau. And I, or I should say, my brain says, "How the heck did he get here?" Ex says, "Don't know." and goes on about things of a girlish nature. But my stupid brain, goes at it like rocket scientists looking for the missing magic particle that explains all things. Maybe he made a swim for it, tried to cross the river, or maybe he was on a cruise ship" I said. "What?" she says. "You know, maybe he went on a cruise ship and got drunk and fell through the bars, you know the railing is made for humans. An armadillo could easily slip through." "Perhaps there was a boatload that came from Cuba and tragically, this young buck had to sacrifice his life so that others may live." and on and on it went. After I ruined the ambiance I still fretted on it. I told the story to countless people. "Why would this be?"
And finally I got my answer to the armadillo conundrum. They can't swim, I was told. They hold their little breaths and walk under water to cross a stream to get to the other side and if they misjudge, and I'm going to guess that happens a lot on account of their tiny craniums, they drown and are washed out to sea. Bingo. Thank you.
And so, I leave you with this one last photo that I took not 1/2 hour after the matching red subarus. I wasn't going to post it... but I just can't figure the why of it. I guess it's a window logo for a cheerleading squad but what the hell is Analese? A language? Surely no one would name their daughter Analese. It'd be the female equivalent of growing up with a name like Richard Head. And I'm sorry but it's proximity to the girl clutching her shoes mid split does not help here. I'm sure there's a reason but I have other things to ponder.