Blind in our Blindness

"What do you want?"

"Chow mein, beef and broccoli, and lemon chicken."

"They don't have lemon chicken."

"Of course they do, Taylor gets it all the time."

"No, they don't . . . they have orange chicken."

"Fine, whatever, lemon chicken it is."

"No, orange chicken."

"What'd I say?"

"Lemon chicken."

"Right, that's what I want, with beef and broccoli."

"Orange Chicken?"

"Exactly. Chow mein, beef n broccoli, lemon chicken."

"You need to stop doing that or I'm gonna try to order lemon chicken and they're gonna think I'm an idiot."

"Okay, sorry. Try to grab some chop sticks and hot mustard."

"Why hot mustard?"

"How else can you eat lemon chicken?"

To be fair, this conversation may or may not have happened exactly like this. What did happen was when later, Calvin asked me why I kept calling it 'lemon chicken', my only response was because it was now a thing.

Joann and I are starting to become a little terrified that what with all the time we've spent glued to each other for the last decade that we have too many things.

And by 'things' I don't mean stuff. We have too much of that too, but that's a conversation we wait to have until after the holidays.

No, by 'things' I mean inside jokes. Little reminders of shared experiences. Some couples travel, some couples dance, some couples have pets or children or both or neither, some couples finish each other's sentences and some couples bicker at each other from different sides of the house. Most couples do a little of all that.

But Joann and I collect 'things'

And I'm not even going to begin to list, because the 'things' have become so convoluded over the years that you might think the two of us were speaking in code.

Suffice it to say, neither of us will ever pass by a Panda Express without thinking about lemon chicken for the rest of our lives.

Yet the nature of 'things' isn't limited to two or three intimate participants, millions can share in the thingness of 'things'. For example, prior to the VMAs, twerking was a 'thing' for hundreds of thousands preadults with wifi access and a penchant for silliness. Afterwards, Miley Cyrus is a household name and suddenly it's a 'thing' to a billion or more.

And 'things' don't have to be the result of 'Dad Jokes' or ridiculous behavior.

Recycling can be a 'thing', quitting smoking can be a 'thing', buying local or calling your grandmother once in a while can be a 'thing'

Peace can be a 'thing'

Even Waitdad is a 'thing' for some of us. I mean, yes it's a real thing for me and those I write about, but  nothing makes me happier than when it becomes a 'thing'

Calvin walked into the living room and said "Wait . . . Dad?, how far have you gotten on Zelda?"

And Joann, sitting beside me said "It's wierd when he calls you 'Wait . . . Dad?' I mean, I know that's where that comes from, but to hear it out loud is a little creepy."

It's creepy because to Joann, 'Wait Dad?' is no longer the odd way through which Calvin prefaces his questions, it's a 'thing' she reads and mostly enjoys.


And I've been a bit obsessed with how things become 'things'. I've read books on the subject, studied trends, compared statistics and analyzed analysitics and I've come to the conclusion that the universe offers nothing in the way of a road map in making things 'things'

Marketing people will tell you the exact opposite.

They're lying. 

At their very best they can imitate how other 'things' became 'things' and the geniuses in their field will modify trajectories in real time and space. The rest are just alchemists trying to squeeze gold from urine based on the color similarities.

All of them are blind.

Blind in their blindness.

Which is my new 'thing'

Have you had the chance to see/hear the trailer for the new Hobbit movie?

Well, there's a line in the trailer when Gandalf, for no real reason at all, says "We are blind in our blindness."

Which has got to be, by quite some margin, one of the dumbest things ever uttered by Ian Mckellen.

How could a line that stupid have made it through rewrites? Or not be pointed out as stupid on film day? Or not be edited out by the gal/guy who spends days upon days on every minute of film? And lastly, how exactly does that make it into the trailer?

Blind in our blindness.

It's now part of how Joann and I communicate to one another.

Calvin's jumpy in his jumpyness
The sky is clear in it's clearyness.
Instead of telling her she's pretty, she's hot in her hotness.
Instead of getting out of bed, I'm sleepy in my sleepiness.
Making dinner? Cooking in our cookingness.
What am I doing now? I'm writing in my writingness.

 Could have been 'Blind to our blindess' or even esoteric enough to be 'blinded by our blindness', but 'blind in our blindness' is just pathetic, and it's pasted on the audio track for all to hear.

If you haven't heard it, you will.

And now, you will never unhear it.

You will be hearing it in your hearingness.
Annoyed in your annoyedness.
Hate me in your hatingmeness.

And how meta is this?

Now that I've made it a 'thing' in it's 'thingness'?

But there is a bit of shining hope for those of us, blind in our blindess, that work very hard to make things and hope to turn them into 'things' And it's not really anything different than what a marketing directer will charge you to listen to.

Here's how things become 'things'

First, they are discovered, then adopted, then shared, then repeat.

Whether it's a magnum opus, a dance craze, or a terrible line from a mediocre movie. Discovered, adopted, and shared.

That is how you become in your becomingness.

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