In 2nd Grade, I was horsing around and running in the classroom (when I shouldn’t have been) and I bonked my head into Sam’s head as he was walking into the room. I broke my front left incisor. Number 9, I think the dentists call it.
It was a diagonal break, so they did this thing where they put a crown on it and I was pleased to wear a crown for the next 35 years or so.
Well, starting around 3 years ago, good old Number 9 (and Number 10!) started giving me more and more and more problems. It culminated in a trip to the dentist on Tuesday where they gave me laughing gas.
And while under the gas, I found myself wondering about a prison that was so good at being a prison that the people in it didn’t know that they were prisoners. The guards surrounding the prison might have known that they were guards once, but that knowledge was lost to time as well (this doesn’t mean that they *STOP* being guards… just that they’ve stopped being conscious of the fact that they’re guards). So you had a prison that didn’t know it was a prison, no longer policed by guards who knew that they were guards, and there was no proper “in” or “out” because the prisoners didn’t even see the walls boxing them in.
And then I thought how would you get a message to one of the prisoners in this prison without letting the guards who didn’t know they were guards catch on? I thought that one way would be to put a message in a book. The guards might flip through the book at the border, but they wouldn’t *READ* it. The prisoners would read it because they didn’t have anything better to do and, when they got to the paragraph, it would hook them because it was written just for them.
Then I thought that, well, maybe the guards would catch one of those paragraphs one day by chance. So how would you best get a message to one of these prisoners? The answer was obvious and hit me like a drill to the teeth: you’d beam it straight into the mind of someone who was drugged out and sitting in a dentist’s chair.
Anyway, I have a bridge now. I’ve officially joined middle age.
So this weekend will be spent recovering from a pretty rough week and *NOT* exercising because the dentist said that a brisk walk was about as vigorous as he wanted me to go for the next seven days or so. I’ll probably hit the Costco and PetSmart and the usual suspects along the way. Oh, and we have gaming night on Saturday.
So… what’s on your docket?
(Image is “Play” by Clare Briggs. Used with permission of the Briggs estate.)