Not Quite Einstein
I have a theory for everything.
Some of my theories are based on historical or scientific data (interpreted by me.)
Some theories stem from observation (also interpreted by me.)
And some are just pulled right out of my ass.
Historically, for example, I have a theory that if Custer had prevailed at the Little Big Horn, he would have been the next President of the United States. I believe that his plan was to chalk up one more big victory and then head to Washington. Didn’t quite work out as he planned.
One of my observational theories, formulated back in college is this: One of the critical differences between men and women is that men think the Three Stooges are funny, and women think they are stupid.
Here’s an ass-pulled theory: Every kid thinks it would be a hoot to break a leg and walk on crutches for a while. You get sympathy and a weapon at the same time.
But my very favorite of all my theories is a combination of science and observation, with a bit of ass prestidigitation thrown in:
**You can only stand a temperature that’s higher than your age.**
Remember when you were eleven, and you’d go out and build a snow fort, and sit in the snow, and eat snow, and get snow down your pants. Didn’t matter, did it?
And teenagers can snowboard in the roughest, coldest conditions, but by the time you’re in your thirties, you only want to go skiing when the snow is already melting.
By the time you’re fifty, you’re putting on gloves in September and sleeping in socks until May.
At eighty – time to move to Florida.
With this theory, I even have a rationale (or rationalization) of why it doesn’t apply to small children. Until about the age of ten, kids have no control over their environment. They get dragged in and out of weather at the whim of their parents. So, in my theory, they fall under their Mom’s age for their first decade.
As a matter of fact, you can pretty well guess Mom’s age by how the kid is dressed. A preschooler so bundled up in December that she can barely lower her arms: Mom’s in her forties. A toddler who’s hatless and shoeless in early April: Teenage mom.
I had occasion to prove my theory once again this past Saturday. We went apple-picking. It was a sunny but cool late afternoon, and I was enjoying this wholesome activity. Then the clouds came in. The temp dropped to the high fifties. Being a low sixty myself, I suddenly had enough of apple-picking, and we high-tailed it to the car. We ate our apple-cider donuts with the motor running and the seat-heaters on.
I feel just a little like Einstein sometimes.
P.S. – I never before had a car with seat-heaters, but I am never going without again. They are fabulous. My mother always said that if your head is warm, you’ll be warm, but I am finding that I like my other end toasty. And a seat-heater is versatile. I turn on the passenger seat when I pick up a pizza, and it stays nice and warm till I get home.
P. P.S. – For any of you readers who live in a country that utilizes that ridiculously logical Celsius: Get your own theory.