- NEWSDAY.CO.TT - A la Une - 20/Jul 07:02

First, you’ll need a spoon

It was always going to happen. It had to, some time. I mean, who lives as long as I have and has not left a spoon in the blender, bringing about the demise of the unfortunate appliance? That the spoon fared so much better – mere scratches – is a testament to my excellent taste in cutlery. The thing that did not necessarily have to happen was my almost swallowing a piece of that great ultra-thick blender glass. Because I should know not to drink anything at all from the blender after my fatal assault on it. It’s so easy to say it’s pretty obvious and why would anyone think to warn me, but you’re not me. You’re really not. I checked. And last I knew, I was the only person on earth (and even those in space) who would think it’s ok to be this much of a dolt. I don’t know if I’ve always been this dense or if it has come upon me gradually. So, I spent a lot of time asking myself how I came to this. The Cats’ Father says it’s because I have no survival instincts. “It’s like the time you broke that jar and tried to see if you could salvage any of the jam that was in it,” he says. He does not know how I missed that day of training when you learn not to swallow glass, but miss it I did. Is he wrong? I think what he really wants to say is that I’m feral. Quite often I think of myself as not-quite-human or maybe-I’m-a-panda. But that doesn’t give anyone else the right to say it. Let us not forget that pandas are on the least smart rung of the bear-verse. I and only I have been granted the divine right to be this hard on me. But back to the spoon. Spoons relocate or disappear with staggering frequency around here. Spoons, keys, shoes, watches, wallets, potato peelers, potato mashers – basically, if it’s not nailed down, the Cats’ Father or I will contrive a way to lose it. Sorry, misplace it. Often permanently. I do not call anyone a panda if they can’t find something. My brain is a constant surprise to me. It will not let me keep track of my reading glasses, but put on a song from the mid-90s and the lyrics pour out of me. A spoon in a blender is a sort of advanced stage of mislaid glasses. This is not a medical opinion. This is just inner-panda understanding. I used to think I was not as easily distracted as a panda, but the spoon proved me wrong. I have focus on a need-to-do basis. The rest of the time, my level of distraction is unsurpassed. Far too often, where I am in my head is nowhere near where I should be. I’m not daydreaming exactly. I’m not even thinking about something completely different from what I’m doing. I think the problem really lies in my thought continuum. Consider: I’m making a smoothie. I see the fruit. I see the yoghurt. I have a spoon to transfer yoghurt into the blender. So far so good? It better be, because that’s where everything goes blank. Once the parts are all there, it’s as if I’ve already made it and my mind takes off to the next thing, like whether or not I have the strength to do post-smoothie washing-up. This, I know, is not only a me and my inner-panda thing. People are busy. Busy does not only refer to what you do at work or things involving kitchen implements. Some people lead frantic professional lives. Some people, no matter what they do, have busy minds. I have an uneasy peace with my mind. Part of it is really well ordered. The other part is chaos on the farm. The ducks are in the milking shed, the pigs are in the water troughs, the cows are in the kitchen, and the chickens are making a salad for the cows. Using my good salad bowl. The thing is, all the animals belong on the farm. And I’m entitled to a good salad bowl of the mind. But nothing is really where I hoped it would settle. If I want to keep track of a thought, I have to run all over the farm looking for it. And how is one to do one thing after another in proper order if the ducks most stubbornly refuse to get in a row? There are way too many difficult animals in my head. The post First, you’ll need a spoon appeared first on Trinidad and Tobago Newsday.