I’ve always wanted to be smart, I guess because I grew up in a time when smart people got some respect. Albert Einstein was considered the greatest genius anybody could imagine. He was so smart, he didn’t even have to comb his hair. In a room full of brilliant people, he still got to sit in the best chair and if he opened his mouth to speak, everyone else shut up and listened. Einstein died just a few months before I was born. I used to suggest to friends that this may be proof of reincarnation. Eventually, I stopped saying it because there was too much laughter and eye-rolling, which got in the way of any hope for a serious discussion.
There have been a few people who think I’m smart, because I read a lot and my brain has managed to hold onto a few facts. For example, I know the capital of Madagascar, and how to find the area of a trapezoid. But this isn’t being smart. It’s just a form of storage, not so different from bolting one of those huge plastic containers to the roof of the car so you can lug your color television to the campground. Also, these random bits of knowledge are difficult to work into everyday conversation. The next time you’re on an airplane or standing in line at the bank, eavesdrop on the people behind you. You’ll notice, as I have, that almost no one ever mentions trapezoids.
Although memory and intelligence may not be the same thing, when I go out to a restaurant I’m impressed with the waitress who can remember six different dinner orders — including the annoying requests for onion rings instead of mashed potatoes, and extra sour cream in place of the guacamole — and can do it without writing anything down. It reminds me of those memory experts who appear on late night talk shows and demonstrate how they’re able to recall everyone’s name in the studio audience. The waitress’s act is even more sensational, because she also has to balance enormous drinks and steaming plates of food on her forearm. I always think that maybe I could memorize orders too. But if on my way to the kitchen even one customer asks me where the bathroom is, I’d have to go back to the table and get everyone to tell me what they wanted again. And still, there’s a good chance somebody would end up with guacamole or mashed potatoes.
There has always been that connection between food and intelligence. When I was little, my parents used to encourage me to eat fish, because it would make me smarter. Even as a young boy, I wondered how anyone could possibly be sure about this. Did they give people a spelling test, then make them eat a tuna sandwich and test them again?
“Fish is brain food,” my father would say. I would try to make sense of this in my perpetually-baffled mind. Would the fish actually go into my brain? Or would the fish’s brain become part of my brain? Both thoughts terrified me. Besides, the fish that people ate were always the ones that got caught. The really smart ones would never end up in a frying pan, or a salad.
I doubt there’s a need to even mention this, but I never ate fish. I hated it. I especially hated that fish ate other fish. No other food seemed to do that. Cows didn’t eat cows. Chickens probably wouldn’t even eat eggs. For some reason, I found it unsettling, this idea of fish eating other fish. The fact that it tasted terrible didn’t help either. My parents also said, every chance they got, that carrots were good for your eyes. There must have been places in the world where they couldn’t get fresh carrots. I imagined everyone there constantly tripping over the curb and bumping into trees. And spinach, of course, was purported to give you big muscles. We had fish every other Friday. One night, we sat down to dinner and I found breaded flounder, cooked carrots, and a mound of spinach on my plate. It was then that I decided I wouldn’t mind growing up to be a stupid, nearsighted weakling.
Everyone else in my family loved artichokes. These are basically cooked bundles of leaves which you ate by scraping them across your teeth. You ended up with a pasty, green residue on your tongue that, according to my delusional parents and siblings, tasted good. Even more horrifying was the thought that buried deep beneath these leaves was something called the heart of the artichoke. No one could eat these things without making them the topic of conversation. While I quietly chewed and swallowed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, they all maintained a non-stop play-by-play of their progress toward the heart, and then, finally, the endless descriptions of how soft and tender and delicious that internal organ felt and tasted. I tried to drown out the commentary with moderately loud humming, but the thought of this thing, beating in the chest of a vegetable, instilled in me a powerful desire to run screaming from the kitchen table. Not that fleeing would have helped. The words wouldn’t let me escape. Heart. Scrape. Even its very name ended with choke. It’s been decades, and still, when someone mentions artichoke hearts, I imagine jars filled with formaldehyde, resting in cardboard boxes on dusty shelves in the back room of a museum.
(I realize that artichokes have nothing to do with intelligence. I just felt like talking about them.)
Parents and teachers had other advice for getting smarter, too. They’d tell us to put on our thinking caps. This was yet another one of those things that must have been introduced on a day when I was home with the measles. I wondered if I was the only one who didn’t have a thinking cap. Maybe that was the cause of my struggles. If I’d had one, I thought, I could relax and let my mind wander, because it was the cap that was doing the thinking.
“Dad, the ball rolled down the sewer and when I tried to reach in and pull it out, my arm got stuck. What should I do?”
“Why don’t you try putting your thinking cap on?”
And I would have, too, if only the person handing them out had remembered that I was sick in bed and didn’t get mine, and if my arm wasn’t stuck in the sewer.
Sometimes the nuns at school would tell us to “wise up.” On less optimistic days, they would suggest we “smarten up.” When things seemed especially hopeless, they’d resort to demanding that we “stop being idiots.” But these things were easier said than done. I can still feel Sister’s hand smacking the back of my head when, in the first grade, I mistakenly circled the pictures in my phonics book instead of the matching words, as we’d been instructed to do. No matter how many fish sticks the lunch ladies tried to cram down our throats, for most of us, true brilliance was an elusive goal.
By the way, after Einstein’s death his brain was cut up into pieces, like a bunch of artichoke hearts, and stored in jars filled with formaldehyde. The jars are resting in cardboard boxes that sit on dusty shelves somewhere in New Jersey. Tests performed on his brain tissue probably refute my reincarnation theory, and I’m sure my friends would all have a good laugh over that. But I don’t care anymore, because I know something they don’t know. I know the capital of Madagascar.
Carl D'Agostino
November 19, 2011
I can’t find my car keys again this morning but I remember that Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo June 18, 1815. It is also my birthday, not 1815 of course but 1949.
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
I lost my keys twice today, and I still need to go out again. And I can’t remember when my birthday is. I like Napoleons, though, or any kind of pastry, really.
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John
November 19, 2011
Wonderful and very funny. I don’t know the capital of Madagascar nor how to figure the area of a trapezoid, but I can identify a state simply by its shape. So, there’s that.
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
The state shape thing will come in handy if you’re ever re-entering Earth’s atmosphere from outer space and landing somewhere in the US. Actually, only if it’s Alaska, Hawaii, or Florida. The rest of them pretty much blend together.
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Lyka
June 23, 2012
Indeed, I also felt the same. I think I already know how to figure out the trapezoid’s area, I just forgot the formula. I better check on this.
Lyka from peignoire enfant
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Amiable Amiable
November 19, 2011
Your reference to Thinking Caps reminds me of the movie “The Point!” I remember that the main character, Ohio, had a pointed hat. Was that a Thinking Cap? (In my mind, that’s what a Thinking Cap should have looked like.) Did the design of that hat relate in any way to trapezoids? Unfortunately, I don’t remember the point of “The Point.” Do you even know the movie that I’m referring to? I think you’re a really smart person and you do, AND you’ll have mostly bright ideas about the answers to those questions.
I don’t remember my mother ever serving artichokes. I do remember she served peas because my brother flicked them at me. I’ll never forget that, and neither will he. I still remind him about how he scarred me for life. (Yup, I’m a 50-year-old sister still guilt-tripping her 61-year-old brother.) You won’t forget the pea-flicking either (fish or no fish), because I know you’ll remember me telling this story on more than one occasion.
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Elyse
November 19, 2011
“The Point” was one of my favorite movies ever! The boy in the story, Arrow, lived in a village of people with pointy heads, while Arrow’s was round. The theme was “You don’t have to have a point to have a point.” It was brilliant! Thanks for the memory!
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
I’ve never heard of The Point, AA, but then, I just watched Fargo for the first time. I do remember the pea-flicking story. I felt myself getting a little nervous at the first mention of food, because any discussion with you of edible things leads inevitably to things which shouldn’t be edible, but apparently are.
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happykidshappymom
November 19, 2011
Okay. You’ve never seen A Christmas Story (all of it, anyway), and you JUST saw Fargo? This is why you’re smart. You forgot to watch TV for the last 30 years.
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bronxboy55
November 20, 2011
Actually, Melissa, I was too busy watching Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.
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Cordelia de Rojas
November 19, 2011
Hilarious, particularly the description of eating artichokes. Of course I happen to love them and live in a part of the world where I can’t get them so thanks for that….
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
Sorry, Cordelia. I promise to never mention artichokes again. I’d offer to send you some, but by the time they got to where you live, they’d look even less like food than they do now.
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Noreen
November 19, 2011
You are missing out on so many good things. When Joe and I were first married, my cousins all got together for a covered dish every month. The whole table was full of goodies, and I would ask ‘what is in that?’ before I ate it. Well, one day I couldn’t find my cousin who made a particular dish. I put some on my plate and it was delicious. As I went back for more I asked my cousin what was in it. When she told me, I knew I wouldn’t have tried it because I assumed I wouldn’t like it. So ever since then, I eat first and ask later because I don’t want to miss something delicious. PS I don’t even remember what it was, but I remember the lesson I learned. Never too late to start trying something new.
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
I have to know what it is, where it came from, who made it, and how it was prepared. I also need a complete list of ingredients, as well as country of origin and transit times. I do a complete FBI background check of the cook, including fingerprints and criminal record, and I require at least two letters of recommendation.
Remember the macaroni salad?
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Jac
November 19, 2011
Oh my gosh, just last night we made a vegetable stromboli and one of the ingredients was artichoke hearts. You should have heard Hope (9) say “ewwww” when she asked what was in the stromboli and I told her that. Katy and I both explained it all to her, but the look on her face showed she was not too happy. I know she can’t be a reincarnation of you, since you’re still alive (and I do not believe in it) but she does know lots of impressive, random stuff.
In any case, mom’s artichokes were amazing, but it was because of the flavored bread crumbs on them, and I for one, never ate the heart. I have, however, been smacked by a Bronx nun…. 😉
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
It may not be reincarnation, but Hope and I are connected on some deep level. That girl’s going places — and she’ll probably get lost, so you’d better keep an eye on her.
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Emily
November 19, 2011
I love how little boy Einstein has gray hair, no wonder he didn’t fit in. About the food-intelligence connection. I JUST finished a book called How to Become Smarter by Nikolai Shevchuk. The guy is a microbiologist, or something official sounding like that, and explores lots of connections between food and fluid intelligence. Throughout the entire book I kept thinking, “I’ll NEVER be able to eat like this”, but it was still interesting and useful for me. I’ll sum up the most interesting parts: food additives, meat cooked at high temperatures, and lack of protein can make it harder to concentrate and are correlated with ADD and ADHD.
I never tell my students to put their thinking caps on, but now I’ve decided to start saying, “Wake up and figure out the answer or I’m going to take away your food additives.” I’ll let you know how it goes.
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bronxboy55
November 20, 2011
But how do we know that the people conducting the studies don’t consume large amounts of food additives and meat cooked at high temperatures? If they have ADD themselves, might that not affect their results?
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Mal
November 19, 2011
“But if on my way to the kitchen even one customer asks me where the bathroom is, I’d have to go back to the table and get everyone to tell me what they wanted again.” I simply love this line!
Kudos, Charles, another absolutely hilarious post! Great pics and fantastic writing. Thank you 😀
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bronxboy55
November 20, 2011
I’m glad you liked it, Mal, and appreciate that you’d take the time to say so.
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earthriderjudyberman
November 19, 2011
I can so relate to your article. Very amusing. I also amaze and baffle my friends by my random knowledge. Still, I have trouble remembering my own name and where I live. I tell my students I have this info sewn onto the tag on my clothes. Some might even believe this.
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bronxboy55
November 20, 2011
Many brilliant people have trouble with those mundane pieces of information, such as name and address. I think you’re in good company.
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Carol Deminski
November 19, 2011
In an effort to add more useless information to the world, I’ll add this – scientists have found that the SMALLER the brain, the better and more efficient it is at doing what it needs to do. So growing a big brain is a bad idea because if you left your math homework in the left quadrant, it takes too long to skip over to art history on the right quadrant and make connections between them.
This is why high performing autistic people are geniuses in a specific area. Some of their brain may be damaged, like the social functioning parts to shake your hand and say Hi, but that allows them to hone right in on the math, or the music, or whatever it is they are amazing at. I remember hearing about one guy who would LOOK at a city from a high vantage point for a few minutes, then go back to his desk and draw EVERYTHING he just saw, down to the billboards. Every. Single. Building.
And on a different note, everybody remembers Einstein for his hair. In fact, you could see a picture of Einstein without the face and just the hair and you’d think – this could either be Einstein or Don King. Each was a genius in his own way, after all.
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bronxboy55
November 20, 2011
I got caught up reading about the studies of Einstein’s brain, and it seems they found a few common structures missing — things that, in most people, separate different parts of the brain. As you suggested, that may have allowed him to make connections others couldn’t.
Einstein, Don King, or Mark Twain.
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Carol Deminski
November 21, 2011
Yeah, for example, Einstein was totally missing the fashion structure in his brain. He was so fashion impaired he wore the same thing every day. He had seven jackets, shirts, pants and shoes and he always looked the same.
One does wonder if this system was also maintained for underwear, which would be quite sad, I think. Seven Pairs of Einstein’s Underwear. It sounds like the title to a story, doesn’t it?
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She's a Maineiac
November 19, 2011
Didn’t Einstein say, “Imagination is more important than knowledge”? I think what he was referring to was the time my dad tried to convince me asparagus tasted like candy. Or if I pinched my nose while eating green beans, the rancid taste would disappear.
And I have a pressing question I hope you can help me with: if I make a trapezoid with my asparagus, how many minutes will it take for me to feed it to the dog?
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bronxboy55
November 20, 2011
My mother used to tell me to pretend mashed potatoes were ice cream. Does anyone have an imagination that good?
I don’t believe it’s physically possible to make a trapezoid with asparagus, unless you really over-cook it, and then you kill all the vitamins. Twizzlers work much better.
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somkritya
November 19, 2011
Very funny you know my parents used to tell me eating fish eyes does wonder to yours and my response was and is still the same ewwwwwwwwww
i would love tripping over things than eating fish eyes…you are so right i am yet to see people discussing mitosis or location of coal mines or any such supposed to be profound things while rescue operation..common sense rocks..so does your post..hilarious and very interesting.
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bronxboy55
November 21, 2011
I keep saying I’m not going to let myself get involved in any more conversations about food, but I never seem to learn my lesson. I’ll be dreaming about fish eyes tonight, I just know it. I still appreciate the comment, Somkritya. Thank you.
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Carol Deminski
November 19, 2011
Oops, comments about the food thingie… yeah, birds eat birds and fish eat fish. I hate fish too, I wasn’t one of the many, many people in New York City that went nuts for Sushi. Yucko. But roasted turkey? Well, we’re gonna have to squabble over that gobble.
ANYway, think of all those nature specials from Mutual of Omaha when we were kids – remember them? At some point I’m pretty sure we saw eagles catching smaller birds, ripping them up and carefully feeding them to their babies. It’s cuter for me to think birds survive on worms, but an eagle needs more protein I guess.
I remember reading a passage in My Empire of Dirt which was one guy’s attempt to build a farm in his Brooklyn backyard and he gets some chickens because he thinks they should be easy to raise. He is horrified to find that each chicken, when it lays its egg, tries to eat it! Now I don’t know if these cannibal Brooklyn chickens were just in a New York state of mind when they viciously attacked their embryos, or maybe they were making a statement about when life begins, but either way, I cannot say whether or not this is the norm.
Meanwhile, it’s tough out there for a chicken. Or at least it’s tough out there for an egg, whichever comes first.
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bronxboy55
November 21, 2011
Is there no end to the disillusionment? But it doesn’t really matter: I stopped eating meat, chicken, and fish more than twenty-one years ago. I’m pretty sure Mutual of Omaha was one of the reasons.
Thanks, Carol!
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ldsrr91
November 19, 2011
My mother used to say to me …. “If you THINK this is over buster, you have another THINK coming.”
Do you happen by chance to know what that means? I haven’t a clue.
DS
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bronxboy55
November 21, 2011
“If you think you’re going to get away with that, you have another thing coming.” I had a teacher who said that a lot. In fact, I think she said it at least once every day.
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Marie
November 24, 2011
Also, I always felt that the second “think” could be read to mean “thought.” In that case, Charlie, I guess your teacher must have been content with one thought a day from you students, even if she had to practically beat it out of you!
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
Is it really “You have another think coming”? I’d been hearing it wrong all these years? It never made any sense, but then, so little does.
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speaker7
November 19, 2011
I can’t even spell trapezoid let alone find the area of one. In my opinion, you is smart, but my opinion might not mean much, e.g., Madagascar – 90 + shoe = area of a trapezoid
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
I’m staring at trapezoid and it suddenly doesn’t even look like a word. What causes that?
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Elyse
November 19, 2011
Ah, Artichokes. I once tried to impress both my new boyfriend and my mother by serving artichokes with a fancy sauce from a recipe by Julia Child. Nothing I did could convince my mother to eat one, and I was really annoyed with her. It was two days later when I remembered that scraping pulp was not such a good thing to ask a denture wearer to do. Poor Mom.
But you know, Charles, another thing that people associate with smart people is humor. If you’re funny EVERYONE thinks you’re brilliant. And you are really funny. That gets you at least 25 extra IQ points.
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
Thank you, Elyse. Twenty-five extra IQ points almost gets me up to triple digits. (I typed double digits the first time. I really did.)
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Snoring Dog Studio
November 19, 2011
It used to be quite hip to eat artichokes like that. You were considered very trendy and avant-garde – ish. I tried to pretend I was hip but all I got were artichoke spines stuck in my throat. Food that’s a lot of work to eat just irritates the heck out of me. Fish with bones? Well, heavens, why not just eat your meal through a rake stuck in your mouth? I tried for years to accept fish as a smart food to eat. But people refuse to get rid of that fishy smell and taste. Then they invented fake crab, which would have been tasty if they hadn’t figured that to make it authentic, they would also have to make it taste fishy. I think that the only food that has ever made me THINK I was smarter is coffee. It speeds up your thinking, thereby allowing you to skip past the stupid things you’re thinking and saying.
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
Maybe I should start drinking a lot more coffee.
Is that what you were really trying to tell me?
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shoreacres
November 19, 2011
The single most tender, poignant phrase in your post is, While I quietly chewed and swallowed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich…. The fact that you were given an artichoke option instead of hearing, “You’ll eat them and LIKE it, kid!” tells me you had good folks. I have a friend who still has to turn away from yellow squash in the grocery store.
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
The peanut butter and jelly option came as the result of several years of head-butting. I spent many evenings sitting at the kitchen table, watching barely-cooked steak grow cold and dry. I eventually wore my parents down to the realization that I was never going to eat it.
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Betty Londergan
November 19, 2011
You are SO funny, Charles — and that’s more important than being smart (at least in my book)! I’m glad you talked about artichoke hearts just because you wanted to … but I especially loved your fish commentary and the discomfort you felt at eating fish that eat other fish. That kind of made my flesh crawl, too! Personally, I’ve always been totally skeeved out at the idea of an omelet with chicken in it, as I feel like that’s really close to cannibalism. You can’t serve dead eggs with their dead mother, the chicken! How gross!! Anyhow — I’m so happy you’ve found an outlet for the wild imagination you had as a child. You just delight me!
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Taner
November 21, 2011
Betty, I always thought I am the only person who thinks chicken omelet is creepy. Good to know I am not alone :). And thank Charles, it is always a pleasure to read your writings.
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
I never thought about the chicken omelet, Betty. I haven’t eaten chicken in a long time, but I still eat eggs, although I have to force myself to not think about what they are. Actually, I’m not sure what they are.
And thanks, Taner!
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Kendrick Macdowell
November 19, 2011
Another word coup Charles. Well done.
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bronxboy55
November 30, 2011
Thank you, Kendrick. Coming from a talented writer like you, that’s welcome praise.
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Arindam
November 19, 2011
Einstein said that, “Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love”. And I am sure that he was not wrong. So many people can’t fall in love with your writing due to gravitation. And I am not going to laugh by your proof of reincarnation.
When i was a child my mother also said me that, ““Fish is brain food”. My mother also told me that, i would solve any mathematical problem if i ‘d eat fish. And may be she was right, I do not know! But i always wonder, “Which is heart food”. By eating which one I can solve any problem in life. I hope you have something to say about this one Sir Charles.
And you talked about thinking cap. But do you really need that one? You have a thinking mind; which is much more intelligent, which can think much beyond our imagination. Then what would be the need of a thinking cap. 🙂
As always i am falling short of adjective to describe how much i liked your post. So i am going to keep it simple- “I like this post very much”.
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bronxboy55
December 1, 2011
There are foods that (we’re told) are good for the heart, although I don’t know what they are and I probably don’t eat them. As for solving any problem in life, I’m sure that food doesn’t exist. But if you say you liked the post, that’s good enough for me. Thanks, Arindam.
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magsx2
November 19, 2011
Hi,
What a great read for a lazy Sunday morning (Sunday here in OZ)
I am definitely with you on the artichokes, the taste was never to my liking at all. However I do like fish, all kinds of fish except for raw fish, I just can’t bring myself to even taste it, just the thought of the flesh not being cooked gives me chills. 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 1, 2011
I was once having lunch in a restaurant with a small group of people and one of the men ordered steak tartare. It was a plate of raw ground beef. I couldn’t believe it. I also could barely eat my own lunch.
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writingfeemail
November 19, 2011
I don’t know whether I am more impressed by the foods your parents encouraged you to try or the fact that you remembered them. But I will say you are quite fortunate. My son’s girlfriend, a delightful person, has never eaten a green vegetable that I am aware of. Come to think of it, she hasn’t eaten a red one or orange one or even a yellow one that I can recall. Textures bother her too. And fish – forget about it. And do you want to know why? Her mother told her that she didn’t like them. So count your blessings that you had parents who allowed you the opportunity to try these foods for yourself before offering up the pb&j. Just for the record, I love artichokes – heart, teeth scraping leaves and the delightful little sauce that I dip them in. How smart is that?
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bronxboy55
December 2, 2011
I don’t know, Renee. I never gave my daughter broccoli, but she’s twenty-six now and eats it all the time. Maybe your son’s girlfriend wasn’t going to like vegetables no matter what her mother said. And I’m with her on the texture thing — it’s something a lot of people don’t understand, but it can completely cancel out flavor.
I like raw carrots. That’s smart, too, isn’t it?
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souldipper
November 19, 2011
Charles, I had a scheme at 3 years of age that allowed me to by-pass all the idiotic stuff that adults ate. I’d refuse to have my afternoon nap until just before dinner. The peace from stupid questions and irrelevant chatter was so blissful that the adults let me sleep through dinner – until it was time for dessert. Then I would appear.
Butterscotch pudding was my all time favourite. If I’d known we could grow vanilla beans, I would have moved my crib to the bean patch.
Well, it was good while it lasted…
I really, really dislike fish and live on yummy veggies. Any of ’em!
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bronxboy55
December 2, 2011
You must have been the smartest three-year-old of all time, Amy. Where were you when I needed you?
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rangewriter
November 19, 2011
Hey smartypants, (did you ever wonder about those?) I’m with you on the artichokes. They’re not bad, really, I’ve just never quite seen the sense of spending so much dough on something that is so inedible that you have to scrape your teeth across it just to get a smidgeon of nourishment.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Same here, Linda. Artichokes are in that middle category for me: I could eat them if I had to, but I’ve never found myself in that situation. As long as I have a choice, I think I’ll eat something else.
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MarieLouise Dodson, MA, LMHC/Psychotherapist
November 19, 2011
I wonder if I would get as good of a writer as you if I began to eat fish every day from now on. It’s never too late they say! On the other end, thinking real hard about it, it may have the reverse effect, so I better not. My childhood “fish” was oatmeal. I swear, my mother was never as creative as when it came to describing how good it was for me. I guess I believed her, even if I hated oatmeal. Little did she know that it was the darn oatmeal that made me become a rebel in my teens… and oatmeal was at the top of the list.
Anyhow – your posts are a delight to read!
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Now they’re saying oatmeal lowers cholesterol. Maybe your mother was onto something. Thanks for the nice comment, MarieLouise.
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Mahfooz
November 19, 2011
The whole “fish is brain food” is just codswallop. I eat a lot of fish, compared to many of my friends, and being a Bangladeshi it is only natural that we do so. And yet if my mum asks me to buy several items for the house, I would bet a large amount of money that I would forget at least one of the items. Plus with goldfishes being so dump and all, you can’t really expect to get clever by eating one.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
I just learned a new word, thanks to you: codswallop. So I feel a little smarter. Thanks!
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nectarfizz
November 20, 2011
(I realize that artichokes have nothing to do with intelligence. I just felt like talking about them.)<—————–There..right there is where you just became my best friend. hahahahahaha :::falls over:::: ps. I just love to talk about Perogi's. I could eat those suckers until I exploded into a pasta/potato avalanche of yumminess.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Bekki, I like perogies, too, although I have a little hesitation about the pasta-and-potato texture combination. I hope we can talk about it sometime, as long as you promise not to explode.
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Chicken Nuggets and Elmo
November 20, 2011
I heart artichokes 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
This is what makes the world such a wonderful place: We have rational people, and we have people who eat weird things like artichokes and pumpkin pie, and yet somehow we all get along and tolerate each other. It’s beautiful.
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dearrosie
November 20, 2011
My mom served us fish at least twice a week, and carrots every day, but never anything as exotic as artichokes. I was in my 20’s when I discovered fresh mushrooms in the supermarket. I thought they came in cans.
All that fish should make me as smart as Einstein, so I guess I don’t have to brush my hair when I go to the museum tomorrow. If anyone asks why my hair is everywhichway I’ll tell them to “Chew on this”
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Mushrooms. This is one of the world’s great mysteries for me, Rosie. Was it supposed to be food? I think that was all some kind of misunderstanding.
By the way, I loved your latest workplace report:
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MJ, Nonstepmom
November 20, 2011
I am proof, refuting fish is brainfood- I cant get enough. When is it supposed to kick in? Not once did I ever consider that fish are cannibals. I’m just not sure how to process this. We both just wrote about Einstein, so that’s freaking me out….
And you haven’t seen “A Christmas Story”? How can this be? My brain hurts.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
I haven’t read your Einstein post, MJ, but I will. And I promise to watch A Christmas Story this year.
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Jess Witkins
November 20, 2011
LOL. I like the rant about artichoke hearts. I like artichokes. And ah yes, Catholic school nuns. I’m sure I was told to wise up more than once in my life, but I got off easy. My older siblings can tell tales of being locked in the classroom forced to make construction paper bunnies and eat old Mr. Goodbars. I didn’t even live it and I get nightmares.
If you makes you feel any better, Charles, I think you’re smart. Maybe not Einstein; smart, but you do know the capital of Madagascar and how to find the area of trapezoid. 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Do your older siblings have blogs, Jess? Maybe you could post some of their stories, along with your reactions.
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eternalabsurdity
November 20, 2011
My dad’s favourite meal-time joke :
Tom and Jeff were opening their packed lunches in the office canteen, and while Tom had produced a veritable feast, Jeff unwrapped just a small fish-head. Tom was surprised to see Jeff smiling happily at the sight of his unappetizing food. Jeff informed him that fish-brains gave great intelligence to those who ate them.
Tom, intrigued, tried to convince Jeff to switch lunches with him, just for that day. Jeff protested vehemently, but gave in at long last. He ate Tom’s grand lunch with relish, licking his fingers appreciatively.
Tim, meanwhile, struggled to extract the measly bits of meat from the head, nearly choking on some fish-bones on several occasions. He was extremely displeased by the end of his thoroughly inadequate lunch, and glared at Jeff angrily. “This fish doesn’t make a person smarter! How dare you?! You tricked me!”.
“Look,” Jeff replied with a grin, “you’re getting smarter already!”.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Good joke, APJ. Disgusting, but good. Did your father really tell it while you were eating?
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Nel
November 20, 2011
I’m on the fish-eating side, Charles. *chuckles* But my parents told me the same things as yours did about carrots and okra (in lieu of your spinach as we don’t have a lot of that back home). I would tear up at the sight of those in our meals. These days, I eat carrots (they’re generally good for you; can’t prove the eye sight thing though) but not okra. So does this mean your kids are enjoying carrot-, spinach- and fish-free meals? 😉
I also went to a Catholic school for elementary education (that’s 1st to 6th grade in the Philippines) and the nuns never smacked our heads. We had lengthy prayer ceremonies and weekly masses, though.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
I’ve never tried to force my kids to eat anything they didn’t like. What would be the point? And we had lengthy prayer time at the start of each school day, too. Mostly I prayed I wouldn’t get smacked in the head anymore.
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Francis Long
November 20, 2011
Regarding fish as brain food there’s a story in Irish mythology about the ‘Salmon of Knowledge’ where a young Fionn mac Cumhaill (an Irish warrior) unwittingly burns his thumb on the salmon as it cooked and sucks his thumb thereby being the first to taste it receives the salmon’s wisdom. The druid who had asked him to keep a eye on the fish as it was cooking was less than pleased as he wanted the knowledge himself.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Salmon are the fish that try to swim up waterfalls and then most of them end up getting eaten by bears, right? The “Salmon of Knowledge.” I wonder who came up with that one.
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Allan Douglas
November 20, 2011
I used to be brilliant. But after eating all that fish, mt brain rotted and now I’m just a prattling idiot.
You may not be brilliant in the Einsteinian sense (although I have only your word for that) but you do have an amazing insight into life and the ability to see wonder in the mundane that I feel ought to be worth at least a dozen IQ points.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
Thanks for the attempted compliment, Allan. But if you’re a prattling idiot, then how do you know we’re not both prattling idiots? I’ve never been called one, but that may be because nobody in my family knows what prattling means.
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ceciliag
November 20, 2011
I hate to tell you this honey, but your feed lot cows are eating other cows, and pigs and chickens will eat ANYTHING! I mean anything especially each other.. sorry.. hate to tell you.. I am not going to tell you how i know this because it will feed pictures into your brain that you do not want to take to bed with you tonight.. well sleep tight anyway.. c
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
I keep saying I’m never going to talk about food again, and your comment has reinforced that decision. I’ve been a vegetarian for a long time, but there’s still a nightmare waiting for me tonight, I’m pretty sure.
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A Morning Grouch
November 20, 2011
I have a horrible memory, except about cell biology and rocks and minerals (which I used to teach). My husband likes to point out that I only know things that no one ever talks about.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
I think the things no one ever talks about are much more interesting than the stuff everyone talks about. Don’t you?
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Marie
November 21, 2011
In light of this and your previous post, “Hard to Grasp”: Perhaps you heard this week that some of Einstein’s brain was made available for research/testing, and although he was 76 when he died, his brain was found to have the appearance of a much younger person’s brain. I don’t know whether or not he ate much fish, but I like to imagine that the use of one’s brain in problem-solving and creative activities keeps at bay the losses inflicted by the passage of time.
So here’s to your continued reading, wondering, and of course writing–your form of genius. As always, thank you for sharing.
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
I hadn’t heard about that latest research, Marie, but it’s more evidence that Einstein and I have a lot in common. A few years ago, my doctor told me I had the brain of a nine-year-old. I wasn’t sure how to interpret his assessment at first, but now I do. Thank you.
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Marie
December 4, 2011
!! You’re welcome–I think!
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Patti Kuche
November 21, 2011
Now I have to look up the capital of Madagascar but will I remember it? Your great post reminds me of how many useless song lyrics have seeped into my brain, without any effort on my part, yet the periodic table, with every will in the world, refused to make much of an impression. Had I come across Tom Lehrer, well . . .
With you on the artichoke, my first also being my last!
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bronxboy55
December 3, 2011
People have tried to write songs to help students remember facts of science and history, but it doesn’t seem to work. The thing about useless lyrics is encouraging, though: it means we have the ability to absorb and recall an endless amount of information. Thanks for the comment, Patti.
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Miss Demure Restraint
November 21, 2011
I don’t know about the area of a trapezoid, but they are fun to jump on. I also never figured out how to eat artichokes, but had a dog that knew how. I quess that makes the dog smarter than me. Thank god for opposable thumbs. It may be the only advantage I have over the animal kingdom.
Great post and as always, a fun read.
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bronxboy55
December 4, 2011
I don’t know if you need opposable thumbs to write, but either way, your blog is always great, too. I haven’t been there in a while, but promise to rectify that soon. Thanks, MDR!
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zoesays
November 21, 2011
Oh my, I totally saw myself in this post! But first things first. This is also me:
“I have to know what it is, where it came from, who made it, and how it was prepared. I also need a complete list of ingredients, as well as country of origin and transit times. I do a complete FBI background check of the cook, including fingerprints and criminal record, and I require at least two letters of recommendation.”
What’s odd is, I never considered myself a picky eater until I began dating my boyfriend (we’ve been together almost three years). I differentiated it by saying I have “particular taste.” I have SUCH a thing with food textures but also smells, which is why fish is completely out of the question. Now I have another reason to loathe them, with that whole fish eating fish thing. Gross. I can stomach ICE cold shrimp cocktail once a year and one time, I ate lobster puffs because I am a sucker for anything wrapped in puff pastry. They weren’t bad but I pretended I didn’t know there was lobster in them.
I also grew up with the parental admonishment that carrots are good for your eyes. I have had 20/20 vision my whole life and I detest cooked carrots. In or on anything. I will deign to eat a shredded bit of carrot in ice cold salad with ranch dressing, if necessary.
Lastly, I’m not a huge fan of artichokes (unless possibly they’re minced and I don’t analyze it) but your wonderful description of the artichoke hearts now has me anti-artichoke. One less food to worry about!
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bronxboy55
December 4, 2011
I’m with you all the way on the texture thing, Zoe. Most people have no idea what I’m talking about. Mushrooms? Even if I could ignore the fact that they grow out of rotting tree stumps, they squeak when you chew them!
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zoesays
December 5, 2011
Hahaha! Oh my God…you’re so right. Apt description.
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winsomebella
November 21, 2011
I think it all goes back to the hair. Or lack thereof.
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
I’m glad somebody agrees. I’m never cutting my hair again. Or shaving.
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arborfamiliae
November 22, 2011
Einstein said “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” I’ve found there are many, many things more important to knowledge. It’s sort of a bummer, because I actually really like discovering facts and learning things. If that were the ultimate pinnacle of human existence–to know–I’d be in a much better position in life than I am. As it is, I’m still trying to figure out all the things that are more important than knowledge and pursue them in some feeble manner.
But as for you, I’d say you’ve got this imagination thing figured out.
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
Imagination is important, especially if you’re going to attempt some theoretical leap, such as those Einstein made. But such leaps wouldn’t be possible without a deep foundation of knowledge, would they? Einstein based his ideas on the theories of Newton, who understood the concepts of Galileo, who studied Archimedes. For what it’s worth, Kevin, I don’t think I have anything figured out. But I appreciate the sentiment, especially when it comes from a mind as insightful as yours.
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Sarah
November 22, 2011
Wonderful post!
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
Thanks for taking the time to read and comment, Sarah.
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Main Street Musings Blog
November 22, 2011
I wonder if anyone ever figured out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop? Or how many scrapes it takes to get to the center of an artichoke . . .
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
I bought a bag of Tootsie Pops just last week in Florida, and noticed that they’re bigger than the Canadian version. So the number of licks would depend on the country. There’s probably a conversion table somewhere. Wouldn’t you think?
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Joe
November 22, 2011
My wife and daughter have tried for years to get me to eat an artichoke but after considering the length of time it takes them to get to the “good part”, I to this day refuse to put so much effort into nourishing myself. Kinda like crab legs. It takes you 10 minutes to crack open a leg and for what, an ounce of crab meat that cost you $25? No thanks!
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
I’m with you, Joe. Actually, the idea of cracking open a leg doesn’t sound to me like it has anything to do with food.
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Deanna
November 22, 2011
Fish only every OTHER Friday? What sect of Catholicism was that? I was subjected to fish every Friday, (which I abhorred growing up but curiously love now).
I don’t know the capital of Madagascar – man, you ARE smart – but it is one of my favorite movies – those penguins were hysterical.
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
My parents alternated pizza and fish every other Friday. Although, for some reason, it always seemed as though the fish night came up at least three times a month. I often went to bed hungry, but my cat loved it.
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Val
November 22, 2011
The last time I ate artichokes they were (whispers) hearts. And they were (whispers) pickled. But not in formaldehyde. At least not that I could tell… Yuk!
I confuse artichokes with asparagus and I like asparagus. Have you ever had Jerusalem Artichokes which are not only not from Jerusalem but aren’t artichokes? They hate me, those vegetables, all they want to do is… um, well… turn to air. Lots of it. Too much of it. Ah yes, you probably are familiar with them. Apparently they are sunflowers (huh?) and come from AMERICA!
Einstein, by the by, might have been dyslexic. (Well, he was but then I looked it up and it seems maybe he wasn’t. But I think he was.)
But you, my friend, are bright. Because without brightness and intelligence I’ve no idea how you could write posts like this. I wish I knew how you do, as I want to!!
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bronxboy55
December 6, 2011
I’ve read two very long biographies of Einstein, as well as at least a dozen books about his work, and have watched a series of video lectures, too. Yet, I can hardly remember anything about him, and I certainly couldn’t begin to explain his theories. If one of us has a learning disability, it must be me.
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Maria Elliot
November 22, 2011
First of all, Hello! It’s the first time I’ve commented on a piece of yours but from the moment I read this particular one, I’ve been trying to find something really clever and witty to write about it. The fact that I have failed (to find something clever and/or witty that is) isn’t going to prevent me from saying that I’ve never read anything that feels so familiar to me in terms I can’t even describe.
Ok, perhaps apart from the artichoke thing. We eat artichokes quite a lot in Greece and I admit I had never heard the importance of the “heart” part. I didn’t even know it had one! And now that I’m thinking about it, perhaps that’s why it isn’t such a big deal where I live. On the other hand, if you wanted to be really clever, you HAD to eat the brain of the calf – which somehow made sense because it was, you know, already brain… The fact that it had belonged to an animal and as such not quite praised for its intelligence, didn’t seem to have occurred to anyone. I really felt sorry for my parents the day the whole “mad cow” story came out…
With fish it’s a different story. I’ve always liked it, had it twice a week although nobody had told me it’s good for the brain..!
Which is how I can now explain how much clever I’ve become! It’s the fish apparently! And unlike you, I have always been showered with comments on what a clever little girl I was, what a bright student, how brilliant my prospects were and so on and so on…
So now, at the age of 33, knowing the capital of Madagascar and Mongolia (at risk of being considered a show-off, I can say I even know the capital of the Maldives), being at the same time particularly adept in geometry, not to mention some ancient Greek and Latin verbs, I am still waiting to be discovered in the street the same way some fashion models claim to have been given their chance to walk on the catwalk making millions while doing so!
My last hope was the “Who wants to be a millionaire” game show but they have stopped it in Greece…
All I’m trying to say here is, what do we do with all this cleverness we possess? I remember everything I was taught in school with disturbing detail, so when is this test coming, so that I can finally excel and get it over with? Who’s teaching this class anyway???
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2011
I think you should create your own game show, Maria. Knowledge isn’t completely unappreciated yet — Jeopardy! has been on for decades. Maybe you could even host the show. And the capital of the Maldives is Male. I know this because I just looked it up.
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shamasheikh
November 24, 2011
‘Fish is brain food’ that was a mantra in our home whilst growing up, at least thrice a week….which in turn became one in my own…luckily we all grew to like it…I do believe this was subconsciously in the hope that it would be of use when we were repeatedly also asked to ‘put on our thinking caps’….I don’t remember if the verdict is out on whether it helped or not…:)
These similarities across oceans reinforces the belief that the world is truly a ‘global village’ !
As always, am in awe of the wonderfully delightful way you help us all join hands via memory lane…
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2011
I think you’ve exactly described why so many of us write, shamasheikh: it helps us learn more about ourselves and each other, and shows us that we’re more alike than different.
Thank you for being so kind.
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Priya
November 26, 2011
Forgive me if I can’t get past your non-foodiness. Or shall we say un-vegetableness (forget the fish). I want to see the wide-eyed boy slowly chewing on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and exclaim “Aww how can he not be smart?”, but spinach and other veggies swim in front of my eyes and claim all of the Awws.
It’s their loss, though, you know. They’ve been missing the opportunity of energising a brilliant brain for years now. Indulge them, for Pete’s sake.
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Priya
November 26, 2011
P.S. I don’t know who Pete is. Thought I’d clarify.
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2011
I’m as sorry as ever that my narrow diet causes you such dismay. I really do enjoy the foods I eat, and don’t feel the least bit deprived or restricted (except when I go to a restaurant and there’s nothing on the menu I can order without requiring some major alteration to the described meal). Your plea on behalf of the vegetables seems thoughtful, but your use of the word brilliant has given you away; after all this time, you surely know better. Good try, though.
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2011
My guess is that it refers to Saint Peter, although I have no idea why.
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Antigone's Clamor
November 27, 2011
Your experience with the nuns is typical, in a way. So much of school is about learning to follow protocol, not actually learning. It’s a valuable lesson, but it comes with a price.
I enjoyed this post! It was fun to read, and I like your sense of humor.
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2011
The ability to follow protocol is a useful skill, at times, although I wish the price were something other than a swat in the head. Thanks, Lara. I appreciate the nice comment.
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singlewhitefemaledating
November 27, 2011
Hahaha… highly entertaining!!! I remember “thinking” about things as a child and being very bewildered by adults. I bet your parents were very “bewildered” by you. Edward de Bono is fond of hats – you could borrow one of his? 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2011
My parents were extremely bewildered by me. Now my kids are. It’s the circle of life, or a distorted version of it.
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Steve Schwartzman
December 5, 2011
“You’ll notice, as I have, that almost no one ever mentions trapezoids.” But the “almost” includes math teachers, whose collective action, as we all know, keeps the world in its proper alignment and holds back the forces of innumeracy and its spatial counterpart, ageometry. And don’t forget all the daring young circus performers who awe the crowds below with their feats on the flying trapezoid.
And there’s another “and”: although the sound of the word “trapezoid” may not often float through the air with the greatest of ease, all of us see trapezoids in commonplace articles around us. For example, although a computer keyboard is for practical purposes rectangular, perspective causes the outline of said keyboard centered on the desk in front of us to appear as a trapezoid.
For further information, I refer you and your readers to the ASPCT (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Trapezoids).
Steve Schwartzman
http://portraitsofwildflowers.wordpress.com
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2011
I love it when I encounter someone who’s ever weirder than I am. When is the next ASPCT meeting?
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Steve Schwartzman
December 9, 2011
They’re scheduled here in Austin every sixth Tuesday of the month.
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bladenomics
December 9, 2011
You’re hilarious! I keep coming back and reading your posts.
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bladenomics
December 9, 2011
I meant your posts are hilarious 😛 Lol.
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bronxboy55
December 10, 2011
I knew what you meant, Bladenomics. Thank you, either way!
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