Brain Matters Vol. 4

I think it’s pretty common for people to always blame other drivers for their incompetence on the road based on the fact that they live in another state. Someone can cut me off and I get pissed, then notice their license plate.

“Well, it figures. They’re from (insert any state other than mine).”

As if only people in my general vicinity ever learned how to properly drive. But this does seem to be a universal occurrence that spans across more than just state lines.

I’m sure that at some time, somewhere, a devout Amish guy has been hauling his family down to the latest barn raising at Uncle Jedediah’s place, when he got cut off by another horse-drawn buggy.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going!?” Then he’d turn to his wife and exclaim, “Well, it figures. They’re Hicksite-Orthodox Quakers.”

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I’m a pretty random guy. I have a thought, which turns into another, which turns into another and by the time I actually say something about the subject at hand, it’s so far removed that I sound like an idiot.

Someone could be talking about what to eat for lunch, which makes me think of food, which makes me think of how much I like Oreos, which makes me think of the colors black and white, which makes me think of race relations, which makes me think of how some people should be more tolerant of interracial dating, which makes me think of interracial couples having babies.

So, while my buddy is asking me if he should get Taco Bell or Checkers, I randomly ask him “Do you think they can tell what color a baby is just by a sonogram? I mean, if you have a black dad and a white mom, you wouldn’t know exactly what color it is. They just look all greenish on that little screen.”

“Um, I mean…I think you should get Taco Bell.”

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The randomness also poses another potential problem. By the time I get old, even if I’m completely sane, people will just think I’m senile. My thought process would be exactly the same, but just because I can’t always control my bladder, I’ll come across as a crazy old man. What once was quirky could become a little frightening.

So, if I ever reach the age where that happens and you happen to be hanging out with me, just remember that when you’re talking to me about social security and I ask you something like “Why do old people and prunes so closely resemble one another?” It’s not dementia setting in, it’s probably just me being me.