I was advised not to write about this. I won't say who told me not "go there", but I think the answer will reveal itself shortly.
Last week I was taking my daily constitutional around Culver City with my beautiful Golden Retriever/German Shepherd mixed dog, Lucy. As I'm often told, "that is one beautiful dog."
She invariably gets more attention than my incredibly clever anti-Trump T-Shirts. Though this one, which embraces brevity and eschews any subtlety, does garner quite a few head nods.
Unlike some of the less responsible pet owners in Los Angeles, I make it point to pick up my dog's business. On the rare occasion when I run out of plastic bags, I will dutifully return Lucy home, get a bag and retrace my steps to the post-digestive deposit. What I lack in literary judgment I more than make up for in integrity. Or so I like to think.
With Lucy's business in hand, I searched out the nearest trash can. It was of the round cylindrical variety with about a 6 inch circular hole at the top. As I gently flipped the bag to its rightful place, it landed on the rim of the hole, sat there for a split second, and then dropped out of sight into the can.
Some previously unconnected synapses in the scatological portion of my brain started emitting neurotransmitting chemicals. Then, aided in no small part aided by a THC microdose Petra mint, I had a brainfart -- I apologize for the juvenile references -- and thought, "I wonder if this is how the guy or girl who is now a billionaire and lounging on a tropical island, came up with the idea for the game Cornhole!"
You don't have to dwell on the graphic nature of this connection any longer, suffice it to say that's a completely plausible possibility. But let's move past the dog poop portion of this essay and get to the meat, sorry, of the matter.
How do things/ideas/inventions come about?
For instance, it has always troubled me, perhaps troubled is not the right word, how, and I'll assume it was a caveman or a cavewoman, came up with the notion that we should eat cooked beef. To my scant knowledge, no other animal on the planet does.
So where did the notion of adding Fire to a flank of Bison come about?
Could a bolt of lightening have struck a stray cow on the plains of North Dakota or Siberia or the Serengeti where some early homonid watched as the poor bovine went up in flames. Then out of curiosity approached the freshly cooked carcass, carved off a slice of filet with a sharp rock, and thought, "Damn!!!" Which would eventually give way to string of Outback steakhouses and Applebees in every strip mall in America?
I wonder about these things. And as you might have guessed, many more.
Perhaps as Ms. Muse and one of my astute LinkedIn followers suggested recently, "you need to get a hobby."
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