Here’s looking at you, stoopid

         

Hello? Are you stupid or what?

Famous Maxwell Smart lines (from IMDB):

Agent 99 (who had plastic surgery): I used to look like my mom. 
Maxwell Smart (who was once obese): I used to look like two of my moms put together. 

Maxwell Smart: Are you thinking what I’m thinking? 
The Chief: I don’t know. Were you thinking, “Holy shit, holy shit, a sword fish almost went through my head”? If so, then yes. 

Siegfried: How do I know you’re not Control? 
Maxwell Smart: If I were Control, you’d already be dead. 
Siegfried: If you were Control, you’d already be dead. 
Maxwell Smart: Neither of us is dead, so I am obviously not from Control. 
Shtarker: That actually makes sense. 

So. You know how half the world thinks they’re so smart? And the other half thinks that the other half is really stupid for thinking they’re so smart when they’re not, not really. I’ve given up being smart a long time ago. As a small girl I remember learning how to read and a-ha! I was a brand new lightbulb, shiny and bright. The world was lit up. I read every single book I could get my hands on, all our encyclopedias, my sister’s nursing books (What is a vah-ghee- na? I asked my sister when I was six) and their racy bodice-rippers, even ones they hid which – I gasp from the memory — I really was too young to have read and know better. I found that if I told my classmates to stop being pedantic sycophants (love the assonance) their eyes got big as saucers and they looked at me like I was Einstein (they had no idea I memorized our family dictionary like the Bible every night.) In high school I was smug to discover I was smarter than many of the teachers. One of them scoffed at the notion that we were descended from PREEMA-TEHZ and asked me to debate on Creationism against evolution. I won of course, I was a mini pit bull frothing drivel. In college I went to a university full of blindingly bright lightbulbs, a Walmart full of hundred-watt incandescents. It was a great equalizer, and I quickly dimmed.  

So. There is no point to this story. The above was just to set up the basis for how liberatingly zen it is to not feel the need to understand everything. Although it can be frustrating to be smart enough to recognize what one doesn’t know, that is, to recognize brilliance, and not be able to share it. As in, Rats, I could have written that book if only I had the words. Or, something like, I’m such a bad cook no point in trying, and you make the most amazing food I’m just so happy to eat it.

Anyway, what’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done? I have so many I don’t remember anymore. Here’s two:

One: My car got stolen from me while I was driving it. Well, okay, I was driving along a residential street really slowly and this guy starts waving madly at me. Him: Your tire is wiggling, it’s gonna come off!!! Me: Really? Oh God no! I get off the car. I thank him profusely for being so concerned. He says I need to leave the engine running to see, so I run to the right hand side to look. He runs to the left hand driver’s side, jumps into my car, locks the doors and leaves me biting the dust in my all-black very stylish outfit that I had just bought from Hong Kong. I walk back to my house in three-inch heels crying like a blithering idiot.

Two: I am mad and ranting and raving to my friend Pinky while driving (maybe my brain cells stop moving in reference to the motion of the car I’m driving, like the theory of relativity yah know?) Pinky says, calmly, the house is over the bridge. I rant and rave, and go under the bridge. She looks at me, and I say, no matter, we’ll just go around, except to go around means to drive further into heavy traffic down Sta. Mesa for a further 20 minutes. I finally make a huey and she says, remember, go over the bridge, OVER the bridge. I say stop being so annoying I’m not an idiot. I reach the bridge and go under. She stops speaking. 

Go watch Get Smart. You’ll roll on the floor laughing, happy to be stupid.