Thank you for coming again!  It’s so darling of you and pay no attention to that gun in your back!

Perhaps you can see from the title of this post that my brain and I have finally decided on a nickname for it.  After giving the matter a split-second’s thought, I am happy to announce that we have decided that my brain shall henceforth be affectionately referred to as “Peanuts.”

I feel a little bad that I’ve waited 59 years to nickname my brain.  This should have been done months ago,  but what with my shoe-lacing projects and water-under-the bridge observations, well we just could never find the time to put our heads together, figuratively speaking, of course.

Cabbage:  A vegetable about as large and wise as a man’s head.” –Ambrose Bierce (1852-1914)

Isn’t it interesting that my brain came up with the crazy  idea of nick-naming itself?  (Please note that the words interesting and crazy can be used interchangeably here).

When you really think about it, the brain doesn’t understand itself and so it studies itself.   It doesn’t know who or what it is (so try not to mention anything about cabbages when it’s around).

When you really get jiggy with it, the brain is just another internal organ.  One of many I might add.  But it’s the uppity organ, the king of the hill, the cabbage on the mount.  The brain thinks that you can’t do anything with out it.  No wonder it is encased in such a big head.

Scientists are about as confused on this subject as “Peanuts” and I are.  They could study the brain ad naseum (and they do) but never seem to come up with a simple explanation as to who we really are, where we really came from and where we are going.

So as Smarty Pants as the brain is, it really doesn’t know diddly squat. (Sorry Peanuts).  Thank God for the heart.  The heart always knows more than the brain.  Of course, it would lose big time to the brain in a game of Trivial Pursuit, but that’s because the brain is a Know-it-all whereas the heart just knows . . . it all.  We often say “I know in my heart it’s the right thing to do.” and never “I know in my brain it’s the right thing to do.”

In fact, we never refer to our brain regarding anything we think, feel or do.  We’ll say, “I had a gut feeling” or “my heart was telling me”  But the brain just sits up there in the control tower doing all the work and getting none of the credit -unwept, unhonour’d and unsung.

Poor Peanuts.

Until next time . . . I love you

Turning 59 . . .

First, thank you for taking the time to come here.  My goal is to make it worth your while.   So without further adieu . . .

Today is my 59th Birthday, and I ran across this apropos quote by Dr. Suess which really says it all about turning any age:

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

So with those words to lean on, and it being my birthday and all, I guess it’s as good a time as any (or maybe even a better time than any) to launch this new blog, — where I’m going to be honest and true to myself.  This is the blog to find my voice and to voice what I’m thinking.  Perhaps it will be little more than a recepticle for “Brain Slosh” but at least it will be my very own, honest brain slosh.  Right now, I feel a little like a public speaker with an audience of none.

That’s ok.  I’ll build my courage as I build momentum.  Before you know it I’ll be blabbing about all kinds of things and there’ll be no shutting me up.  When my kids were little, they had a little friend over who talked my ear off.  Even at the tender age of 3, she was apparently aware of her propensity to chatter.  After talking for about an hour straight she finally said, “Why don’t you give me a cookie, that’ll shut me up.”  So just for future reference. . . my favorite cookie is chocolate chip.

These are the things I have come to terms with concerning turning 59:

Turning 59 is alittle worse than turning 58 and a little better than turning 60.

You’re only as old as you look and you probably look 59.

You’re only hope now is that you’re a late bloomer.

You might be getting more wrinkles, but at least  . . . uh . . . well I’ll get back to you on this one.

If you say you’re 59 years young, you’re only drawing attention to the fact that you’re 59 years OLD – because nobody is buying that. “years young”  hooey.

If you live to be a hundred you still have more years ahead of you than behind you . . . no wait a minute . . . nevermind.

At least by the time you’re 59, you know how to adjust your head for photos to minimize your double chin – unless you don’t have a double-chin in which case oh shut up.

Once you’ve reached 59, everyday is a new beginning (of the end).

And so it goes for my very first post into this new realm of reality in the form of virtual-ness.  Stay tuned tomorrow where I will be thinking up a nickname for my brain.

Until then . . . I love you.