My family and friends are a fount of random knowledge and exceedingly erratic statements. They specialize in statements so funny, witty, or insane your brain literally grounds to a halt upon hearing them. As my train(s) of thought nowadays are tenuous at best (thanks Baby Skullhead!) this can be a mixed blessing. On the one hand, they are always fun to talk to. On the other hand, they make my brain hurt.
Recently, for instance, I was driving Aunt Macguff to an appointment. We got to talking about the movie For Colored Girls and [spoiler] the myriad of horrible things that happen to women in the movie, including a rape scene. I went on at length about the different between watching the movie and reading the poems, how Ntozake Shange is a genius, and how I didn't plan on seeing any movie that deep again, oh, EVER. Aunt Macguff commiserated on how she doesn't watch anything deep any more. She's too old for that, she only likes cheerful now. My secret agenda for the conversation was to distract her, because she gets testy on appointment days. It mostly worked, but she got irritated trying to open the door with her recently-operated arm at the end of the drive. As she's getting out of the car she says, "Well, I'm not raped, so I'm good." Yes, that's exactly how I expect little old ladies to end conversations.
Another example: Mother Magoo was feeling sorry for herself because her knees were killing her, she could barely walk, and her stupid friends were complaining about their trivial-by-comparison health problems. She says to me, in all seriousness, "I'd rather be anyone else in the world other than me right now. ANYONE…"
(She looks at me speculatively)
Mother Magoo: "…well, except you."
Now for The Hub's turn: We're watching Top Chef Just Desserts and dissecting macho contestant Morgan. He is the one cranky straight guy in the sea of gayness that, apparently, is the world of pastry chef contestants (who knew?). Here's our dialog:
Me, talking to the screen: "Yes, Morgan, we get it -- you're straight and have a gigantic lantern jaw. You look like a male pin-up from the 1940's and are charmingly chauvinistic, we get it, shaddup already."
Husband-cat: "He seems like the kind of man women would find it easy to marry. Archetypal looks, charm, cooking."
Me: "I guess."
Husband-cat: "Yeeeah, he's probably just as easy to divorce, though."
And finally, we have Eeyore, who dropped this during a discussion of Thanksgiving menu planning.
Eeyore: "Wouldn’t that be too many pies?"
Me: "Pie! Pie! Pie! Pie! You can't have too much pie! Pie! Pie!"
Eeyore: "You can have too much of anything. You can probably drown in pie."
Me: "Um, then could you bring ice cream?"
Notice how most of these instances end with me blinking in silence because my brain has stalled? People who don't know my family assume I'm the Big Personality of the group and that I'm "out there," but they have no idea of the sea of crazy at my disposal. It's not even crazy, its more that the wiring of my loved one's heads does not conform to any known blueprints for normal brains.