I like summer. It’s a time for fun in the sun. For barbecues
with friends. For lazing on the beach.
I like summer. It’s a time for fun in the sun. For barbecues with friends. For lazing on the beach.
But summer is also a time for reflection. To sit by the pool and contemplate the great mysteries of life. Like what the heck happened to Tom Cruise? Is it just me, or did that guy go from cute dude dancing around in his underwear to absolute idiot? And isn’t it ironic that a guy so opposed to psychiatry could really use some therapy right now?
But in between my crushing disappointment in Tom – which I intend to get over by buying any magazine that features Orlando Bloom on the cover – I wonder about other meaningful things. Like why do my bangs grow slower than the rest of my hair?
Oh, come on, admit it. Anyone who has ever had bangs knows the Big Bang Regrowth Theory as proposed by Elda Higgenbottom in Plano, Texas 20 years ago. Basically, the Big Bang Theory works like this: All hair grows at the exact same rate UNTIL the front hair is cut into bangs. At that point, the bangs grow at a rate that is approximately 12 times slower than the rest of your hair.
If you don’t believe me, look at my picture. I’ve been waiting 7 years for those puppies to grow out. Addingto this mystery is the fact that your long-time hairdresser, who encourages bang regrowth, will suddenly lose her mind in the middle of a trim and cut your bangs again – despite the fact that you have been growing them out.
If that wasn’t enough to think about when lounging by the pool, there’s the Shoe Sale/Size Relativity Theory. My sister first proposed this theory. One day Tiffany realized that whenever there was a sale on shoes at Nordstrom, she would scout out the shoe racks the day before, trying on the shoes she wanted to buy when the sale started. And she would be assured that in the “back,” there were approximately 452 pairs of shoes in Tiffany’s size, just waiting to be purchased.
And the next day, when Tiffany arrived at the store a mere two minutes after opening, all 452 pairs would have been sold. Fortunately, Tiffany also discovered a way to defeat the Shoe Sale/Size Relativity Theory. She became best friends with the shoe department manager. Look, when it comes to shoes, all’s fair in love and war.
And of course there is Sock’s Law. Sock’s Law was discovered in the late 1980s by a group of former housewives. They performed several experiments where an even number of socks were placed into a series of washing machines and recounted when they were transferred to a dryer. The housewives discovered that an odd number of socks were transferred, thus leading to the conclusion that there is, indeed, an escape hatch for socks built in to every washing machine on the planet.
My favorite is a theory I think about often, the School Age-Child Germ Theory of Disease. This theory – as developed by a teacher whose name has been lost in the annals of history – states that on any school day when there is a major test or party, one child in each classroom will have a minor sniffle. Now this germ will spread like wildfire throughout the entire school, spreading a noxious cold so fast that within days entire classrooms are completely empty because everyone normally in them is home eating chicken soup and watching reruns of “Mayberry RFD” until they feel better. That is, everyone except the original carriers of the sniffle. Those kids are fine and running free through the entire school, wondering where the heck everyone went.
My least favorite is the Big Butt Gravitational Theory, developed by yours truly. This theory goes a bit farther than Sir Isaac Newton’s original. Sure, he had an apple and a tree – but did he really understand that the larger the butt, the quicker it sags? I can tell you, this theory is real. Anyone walking behind me can see that for themselves.
Yes, that is what I do all summer long. Not for me the frivolity of long days by the pool. No, I’m enriching my life and expanding my brainpower. Or maybe I’ve just been in the sun too long. That could explain a lot.
