First, if you are a subscriber to this blog and have been receiving repeats of entries in your inbox I am so sorry. I was not aware that any time I revise a published article due to an overseen error the update goes out again to subscribers as if it’s a new entry. I actually asked my blog host about this before I went ahead and did it and they assured me no one would get it again, it’s just a revision of something already published. But several subscribers emailed me to say otherwise and I feel bad jamming people’s boxes like that. I contacted the host again and they said yeah, that’s what we said, it’ll go out again to everyone. Oh, now I see.
A while back a student dropped out of my program at school and it is now official, I am the person present with the highest potential for wisdom achievement, meaning I’m the oldest one in class. The program I am in requires a huge amount of memory since we are learning an unusual language and must know how to communicate with perfect accuracy both verbally and written. At the end of this last week I felt like information was literally running out of my ears, there was no other space for it inside my head. Could it be that the available room in there is proportionate to the amount of crap we’ve crammed in divided by the years we’ve been cramming it? I mean I’ve certainly been shoving shit in my brain longer than anyone else in the room, right? The young woman sitting behind me probably started committing lyrics to memory with Mary J. Blige but I go all the way back to Joni Mitchell. And that’s definitely stuff I’d like to keep. What I need to eject is the theme song to Gilligan’s Island. That would free up acres of space.
It makes sense that learning a new language comes more easily to the young and I know this because you never hear about someone’s mother arranging music lessons for them at 18. It either happens in grade school or it doesn’t happen at all. When my son was in kindergarten he came home one day and announced he wanted to learn the violin. A fellow student had performed for the class and Son wanted in on the action. He began taking music lessons in earnest and it was months before I found out that the classmate who inspired him was a Raphaelean beauty with chestnut curls and an angelic smile. Hmmm. Baseball season came and the Itzhak Perlman dream was replaced by visions of Ozzie Smith. But while they lasted the lessons did work some magic.
My daughter requested piano lessons in first grade and got more than she bargained for. Her beginning teacher was an older female drill sergeant type who rapped out instructions in military cadence. One day I overheard Sarge admonishing her pupil to practice longer and harder. Daughter protested that it was too much to learn. “If I can get it in my head you can get it in yours!” Sarge barked at her. Daughter replied, “Look how big your head is! I have a little head!” Sometimes size really does matter.
And sometimes instructions don’t make sense no matter what. Today I was on the highway and stopped at a rest area. On my way into the ladies room there was a computer printed sign on the front door that said WE ARE NO LONGER ADDING CHLORINE TO THE WATER SO DO NOT DRINK IT AT ALL FOR ANY REASON. The words circled around in my head as I entered the stall next to the occupied one and I wondered what would happen to me if I took a little sip. Would my liver turn to jelly on the spot? Would I go slowly stupid and not know why? Quickly stupid and know why? Would microscopic parasites invade my body and run rampant like tiny aliens until I sent Sigourney Weaver in to tame them?
My neighbor exited her stall when I did and we exchanged a nod and proceeded to the sinks. As we stood in front of them we looked up at the mirror to another sign that said ALL FAUCETS HAVE BEEN TEMPORARILY REMOVED. And sure enough there wasn’t a piece of hardware in sight. Our eyes met in the mirror for a second and then she said, “I guess they really don’t want us to drink the water.” I nodded in agreement but was secretly hoping that all this new information would be enough to finally push out Gilligan.