This thought crossed my mind at lunch today. How does the the waiter/waitress know whose cup belongs to whom when they take it to the kitchen for a refill? It's not rocket science if there are two cups. Lefty belongs to Steve, righty belongs to other. What if there are 3 cups or 4 cups? Kinda makes you wonder if the straw you're sucking from really has your own spit on it, doesn't it?
I love those new Veeeee-Duuuuub commercials by Volkswagon with the Auschwitz engineer and his assistant. I think they're clever and creative. And it totally fits my conception of people from Deutschland. The commercials portray Germans as being sterile and orderly, trying to act cooler than they are, getting a little orgasmic destroying the objects of others, and making fast cars. I think the only things missing is a stein and a bratwurst.
I've been lucky. In 5+ years for flying, I haven't had to sit next to too many big people. At least big enough to remember. There was this big ole sassy black girl once back in 2002 but none since. My string of luck ended this past Thursday. I was patiently waiting in La Guardia waiting on my delayed flight. The flight finally arrived, and I made my way to the back of the plane. (The Delta shuttle doesn't have assigned seats.) I put my bags away, put my coat over my knee, and made myself comfortable. I was relieved to finally be going home after a week of work and a 1.5 hour delay at the airport. I never saw Hams lumbering down the aisle. She chose the seat next to me as soon as I thought to lower the armrest. It slightly hit her on the way down. I figured it was because she was moving around settling in. I then noticed that the armrest wasn't all the way down. I thought I didn't make it all the way down before she sat, so I pushed it down hitting her again. About 10 minutes later, it was tilted up again. At this point, I knew the reason why. Hams. Luckily, she saved me the trouble and tried valiantly to keep it down herself for the rest of the flight. I scrunched myself against the window so she didn't think I was trying to get fresh or anything. What an uncomfortable hour.
If you don't know what Hams are, they're the thighs of a big person. They have the same size and shape as plump Christmas hams. Sitting in close quarters on an airplane they can get underneath the armrest and start to lift. If that starts to happen and one is not diligent, the Ham can easily start rubbing against another's thigh. Not a good situation. Not a good situation at all....
I've had a lot of time on my hands lately to think. One of the more pronounced topics on my mind is the idea of recognition. To some, I may be cruising through life, but this is very stressful time for me, personally and professionally. I'm trying my best to recognize what is happening in my life, analyze and understand it, and make decisions based on it. I feel like this process will help me navigate through life more successfully.
Recognition requires conscious thought, an action that I don't feel a lot people do anymore. Either they don't want to or they haven't taken the time to. It's much easier to get caught up in them moment. I understand that. I'm sure even there's a psychological reason behind it too, like denial, which is a primal survival technique.
I'm a person who likes to think in analogies. In my mind, the lack of recognition is similar to running an obstacle course with a blindfold. To an outside observer, the individual runs into objects or maybe even runs in circles because he hasn't bothered to stop, observe, analyze, and change the situation. Taking the time and spending the energy to analyze what's happening is difficult. I understand that. To me, it's a worthwhile exercise that brings relief and satisfaction.
