Saturday, July 14, 2007

Theories Begin in my Pants.

So many times I hear myself speak, and I can't understand why I can't keep my crazy to myself. I was able to do this just fine, save for a few unguarded moments, before Mr. Zoom came into my life.

He convinced me that he might actually like being around, that I can't scare him with mere words; nonsensical gems that I manufacture spontaneously.

That might have changed the other day. For some reason, I can NOT simply observe life silently. And it's not that I have to describe what I'm seeing. No, I apparently have to find a cause and effect - I must create a theory and declare it as fact. Or at least a fact to be later proven or refuted.

And it's not possible to know what item will be captured in my theory net.

As we drove about the city the other day, Mr. Zoom said "Did you notice that the grass in the common areas is like a foot tall? Is the gardening staff on strike or something? We have enough old grumpy nothing better to do residents that I've got to believe they're all over the association about that."

"Oh, I DID notice that on my way to work the other day. But you know what I thought? You know how when grass gets really long it gets those shoots with seed looking things on the top? Well, I thought that ... maybe... maybe they were letting the grass get to that point so that it would re-seed itself."

And then I laughed like I was reading Defective Yeti, for a good five minutes.

"How far into that story were you when you realized how silly it sounds?"

"Actually, I carried it with me for about a day and it wasn't until I told it to you just now that it hit me as odd."

Some time ago I convinced myself that rain in Southern California is almost always followed by a round of Santa Ana winds.

Mr. Zoom commented one day on something, something probably not even close to weather, wind or rain related. But, I had to share my theory: "You know, I've noticed that after a rain, there always wind. Like big wind."

"WHAT? So you are saying that every time it rains, there's wind afterward? How could that possibly be?"

Sarcasm is the glue that keeps our marriage together.

"...well, no..yes? I mean, it's like always a day later after it rains. Sometimes a couple of days. Not so far out as a month, that would be silly." [yes, indeed THAT would be silly.]

"So are you saying that after it rains, any time there's wind after that - they are connected?"

I decided to pull out my closing argument:

"Rain brings wind, but wind can happen without rain happening first!"

"youuuuuuuuuuuuuu betcha. Here, have a cookie."

I will sometimes ask Mr. Zoom to provide a missing element to my story. We drove down a street that has been under construction since what feels like 1985. Mr. Zoom noticed that some of the cones had been removed and he was getting excited at the possibility of being able to drive to work without a sea of Cal Trans Orange. The cones that were left were the kind that - to me - look fairly solid in the ground. I asked Mr. Zoom how they get the cones to stick to the road.

"They have a glue that they come by and use to stick them into the road."

"Oh yeah? How do they get them removed later? Wait, I know. They wait for a really hot day and then they send prison labor out to pull on them when the ground is the most pliable!"

"Yes Zoom, that's it. It is prison labor." He sounded kindof tired.

1 comment:

BostonPobble said...

I think, perhaps, Lithus needs a conversation with Mr. Zoom. It might make his life easier because Lithus is still in the WTF stage. ROFLMAO

For the record, I had just thought "I should email Zoom, make sure all is well...let me check her blog first, just in case." Good to see you're around and "just" busy! You're always missed.