– Etc.
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*Please use at will and with or without restraint.^
^Enjoy.
Did you know? All bananas are clones.
Not all. But the ones we (you & me) buy at the supermarket are overwhelmingly clones, produced via cuttings of the most desirable progenitors; therefore (re)produced clonally.
Gros Micheal. That is the variety that dominates, that we consume, that we eat for breakfast. Which we have as snacks during our busy, hectic days.
But this is hardly new knowledge. These are just facts.
It’s just…the fact that the bananas we consume are genetically identical seems absurd, doesn’t it? Absolutely preposterous. That’s why a banana tastes like a banana tastes like a banana. It’s why a banana never not fits in a Banana GuardTM. Haven’t you noticed that?
It never not fits.
***
But not all copies are not always created equal. Lacking males (or perhaps it’s better to say “bereft of suitable males”) some reptiles, for example, have been known to spontaneously self-replicate, a process known as parthenogenesis (derived from the Greek meaning “virgin birth”).
However, genetic material can get shifted during parthenogenesis, shuffled like a deck of cards, thereby producing imperfect copies of the progenitor.
Not so for Anna the Anaconda, current denizen of Boston’s New England Aquarium and mother of 18 identical babies – identical to each other and to herself and born without Anna ever having contact with a male of her species.
Anna, in essence, gave birth to herself: 18 babies worth. Only two survived. Still, that seems so much better (i.e. simpler, easier) and frankly more impressive than, for instance, being your own grandfather; no paradoxes there. No needless complications. Just the question of creation itself. Only the mystery of it, going forward, as we hurtle through time.
The same cannot be said for our Gros Micheal.
But then, it’s hard to complicate a banana.
***
Anna is also a palindrome, derived from the Greek meaning “again” and “way or direction.”
“Running back again.”
Never odd or even.
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* Please follow any of these with “The Cindy Phan Story,” where you feel it best fits.
Filed under Animals, Books, Mind and Body, Relationships, THE FUTURE, Words
I have an aunt who would ask me all the time, “Am I your favourite?”
I have a lot of aunts. She wanted, it seems, to stand out distinguished among them.
(Though there are a lot of aunts, they are not interchangeable, but the issue seems to be hers exclusively.)
As time passed, the questioned changed:
“Who’s your favourite?”
And changed again:
“I’m your favourite, right?”
Until, finally:
“Tell them who your favourite is.”
“No,” “Why,” “I don’t know” did not deter her from asking her question, and neither did “Yes.”
“Yes,” as you can see, was what led to further questions until the inevitable “tell them.”
(NOTE: “I don’t have a favourite,” was met with disbelief and scorn, and also the equally predictable demands for a “real” answer. Demands for “the truth.”)
The truth is this: I no longer speak to that aunt. Not anymore than I have to, anyway. Which is to say not a lot. Which is to say not much.
Funny now, looking back on things. Funny the lengths we go through, the trouble and expense, to define something for others on behalf of ourselves.
Among other things, “favourite” means “chosen”, “preferred”, and “cherished.”
No longer speaking to my aunt is my choice, it is my preference and something I have come to cherish.
My favourite.
Filed under Change, Family, Relationships, THE PAST, Words
One of the first people to influence my love of books was my elementary school librarian, Mrs. Oliver.
(I’m not sure if that’s her real name, it was certainly something that sounded like “Oliver.”)
Tall, straw-haired, soft-spoken Mrs. Oliver. Quick to help you find the books you’re looking for and to suggest other books you might enjoy, sometimes very much and often for different reasons. Knowledgable and stalwart, friendly yet adamant, Mrs. Oliver.
She was very good at her job. She was, in every way that counted, perfection.
Our library was small but serviceable, the books arranged according to grade level as well as alphabetically. Lower grades (kindergarten to grade 3) on the lower shelves. Higher grades (4 to 6) on the higher shelves. Easy peasy. A very workable, easy-to-understand system.
I read widely and largely ignored this system. The “fact books” (i.e. “Facts on Dogs,” “Facts on Trucks,” “Facts on Trees,” “Facts on The Breeze”… your basic all-purpose non-fiction for beginners) located on the fourth shelf from the bottom – the shelf meant for the older students and not second-graders like me – were a particular favourite. I read them often, even checked a few out using our self-check-out system (back then, a sign-out sheet with matching card placed in an envelope glued to the inside jacket of the books).
I did this for weeks. I did it for months and months.
***
This is a true story:
One day, as I reached for the fourth level self, Mrs. Oliver appeared and, gently but firmly, stopped me.
“You can’t take those books out, I’m afraid. They’re for the older students only.” She pulled the book from my hands and put it back in its place on its shelf. From then on, she watched me whenever I was in the library, making sure I would not access books above my grade. Making sure the system, the whole system, in its entirely, worked, and was therefore perfect.
She was always still and in every other respect, the one and only Mrs. Oliver.
By the time I reached the fifth grade, and was therefore able to take out almost any book I wished, Mrs. Oliver was gone, replaced by someone whose name and face I definitely do not remember.
But I do remember thinking, the day she took the book away from my small hands: “Oh, Mrs. Oliver. You just did it, didn’t you?
You made an enemy for life.”
Let me repeat.
For life, Mrs. Oliver.
Filed under Communications, THE FUTURE, Words
Filed under Books, Characters, Words
Season’s Greetings!
Happy Holidays!
Etc.
Lots of thoughts and sentiments this time of year. Most of it well-meaning, if prescriptive and stale.
(Or maybe not. But I don’t think so.)
Be thankful.
Best wishes.
Warm regards.
Do onto others.
Lots of people going to see family this time of year or, one way or another, family’s coming to see them. Which is better, or worse? For whatever it’s worth, who’s to say?
Lots of people staying put where they are, people coming to them or no, it’s time to relax, slow down a bit and recharge. Why. The. Hell. Not?
Lots places are open until midnight or beyond up until the big day. It may seem fun, or at least exciting, or at most necessary, to wander a Walmart at 2:00AM.
It probably isn’t. But ‘tis the season.
What are these actually worth, especially when what they amount to is hurt and pain and misery…or inconvenience or humiliation or shame?
No one says, “Well, at least I had good intentions” when everything turns out OK and no one is upset or offended or otherwise injured. When the shit doesn’t hit the fan.
You can’t take credit and admit guilt. Absolve and take responsibility.
But you can try, and probably get away with most of what you’re after. Eat that cake, and have it too. Big bites, anyway. Juicy ones.
If that’s what you intend.
If that’s the best you’ve got.
If you know what I mean.
Filed under Ceremony, Communications, Language, Words
