The fast and the furious
My dad used to read this comic book called Groo […]
My dad used to read this comic book called Groo the Wanderer, which, to the best of my memory, was kind of a send-up of Conan the Barbarian, wherein the title character was as dumb as a bag of staplers. The running joke was that someone would call him “slow of mind” on about page two. Around page 33 (it varied) he would invariably ask, “Wait, what did he mean, slow of mind?”
I’m not Groo-ing myself here, but my wife always says that intelligence is how fast you process information.
You see my wife is spontaneous, that positively-connoted attribute that everyone likes to think describes them, but rarely does.
I am in no way spontaneous. There, I feel better having said it.
What’s so great about being spontaneous, anyway? I’m a planner, I like to plan things efficiently to get the most out of my limited free time. I calculate and formulate until I work out a scheme that involves maximum personal happiness.
Spontaneity is the spit in the master plan’s eye. Spontaneity shows up at 1:15 p.m. in the afternoon and says, “Hey, I have a break. I’ll watch the kids if you want to go out. I have to leave here by 2:30 p.m., so if you want to go to the gym, you have to go RIGHT NOW.”
Whoa, buddy. I don’t deal well with RIGHT NOW. I deal much better with the soon hereafter, the whenceforth, the anon. Instead of grabbing my trunks and running, I almost get mad at her for putting me in this conundrum. Um, beep-boop, does not compute.
What’s the big idea, trying to give me time off, anyway? That was not in the plans. Well, now I have to RE-plan! Do I have even have time to swim? Well, when did I eat last? What was my carb intake like? Have I been hydrating? Is it even open swim time now? Let’s see, I have to be back by 2:30 p.m., that means leave by 2:20 p.m., that means out of shower by 2:15 p.m … etc.
You can see where this is going. Straight to Dry Trunks Land. Whereas my wife has no qualms whatsoever about just announcing that she is going to the gym in the middle of Saturday afternoon. Whaaaa? Why? How? I mean, yeah the kids are asleep, but they might wake up. Probably WILL wake up before you get back. But this is college football season. Well, how far are you running? Did you carb-load? And…she’s already in the car.
So I’m trying to evolve. I’ve gotten better. Those diems don’t come along that often, and I’m trying to carpe them more often. It’s against my nature, but I never regret taking advantage when they come along.
Wait, what did she mean intelligence is how fast you process information?