The Book of Shenry |
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Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Life has a fucked up sense of humor…I've been told that it's possible to balance an egg on end during the vernal equinox. I've been told this is the only day of the year --given the earth's unique 90-degree axial tilt, corresponding spin, and the sun's perpendicular gravitational lines-- when such a feat can be achieved. Call me "deprived", but I've never witnessed this phenomena. You'd think that at some point in my 30-years of life (I'm rounding up to prepare myself for the inevitable three-oh) and 60 total equinoxes that I would've tested this theory. I blame my elementary school teachers. Isn't it their duty to wow their small-minded 2nd graders with these types of parlor tricks? In hindsight, the innocence of my youth was fouled by delinquent teachers. Anybody notice that about two sentences and one rhetorical question ago I mentioned 60 total equinoxes instead of specifying 30 vernal equinoxes? The way I figure it, what's good for the vernal is good for the autumnal; the earth is lined up the same way both days. Although today is my autumnal equinox, it is also Lima's vernal equinox. Follow? Good. So I brought a raw egg into work today. I figured this stunt might only work closer to noon, when the earth is most nearly 90-degrees. I was wrong. At 7AM, after my morning coffee and sleepy-eyed web browsing, I balanced that bastard egg on its fat ass. Check out the photo-documentation. I rock and so does the equinox. I also tried balancing the egg on its small end, but my hands were too shaky from all the coffee. I'll try that again later. For a brief moment, I was pulled back in time to purify my incomplete youth. I stared at the precarious egg with the sparkling wide eyes of a child. I felt whole and clean and exuberant. The child and the man fused into one whole and complete entity… Until I hit google and discovered that anybody can balance an egg on end any pissy day of the year, here & here. What a rip-off. The mending of my inner child was based on a lie, a myth, a hoax. Life has a fucked up sense of humor. |
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