Blonde on the Prairie: Take the Time to Wonder
It usually happens when I’m the passenger in a car. It also shows itself when I’m quietly waiting to be called in to an appointment. The worst time is right before I’m ready to fall asleep. Wonder. Quite frankly, wonder appears most everywhere I go during my day. I don’t invite it along and just like a wood tick it attaches itself to me and comes along for the ride. It shows itself when I don’t really want it to.
I don’t have time to go to a psychologist or therapist so I hope you don’t mind that I use all of you. I just need to purge some of my wonder on to this page so I can make room for some things coming up in my life that are exciting and good.
I wonder how a sperm and an egg know to grow a skunk into the colors black and white and equip it with a defense of smell.
I wonder why I can move a rock and find a whole community of different colored bugs and shaped bugs and they’re all getting along under there without any light but humans don’t.
I wonder why people call tennis shoes, “tennis shoes” when rarely they’re used for that.
I wonder how the sun knows how to come up in the east and set in the west and it does it perfectly every time.
I wonder if I’ll ever stop wondering so I wonder some more.
I wonder if chili tastes the same to you as it does to me. Or does chili taste like spaghetti to you and chili to me but we both call it chili just because that’s what someone named it? I wonder if we’ll ever know.
I wonder if animals look at humans after we shave our legs, our armpits, our faces and think, “Dude! Those humans look so naked!”
I wonder if the foot doctor ever gets giggly looking at some of the feet he has to see?
I wonder if he’d giggle at mine.
I wonder why that husband of mine almost always comes home with the wrong thing from the grocery store even though I wrote it down.
I wonder if I’ll get a warning message that only I’ll be able to hear just before I’m about to die.
I wonder why it’s ok to say, “The ‘’f’ word,” “Mohammed,” and “Diarrhea” but the first mention of “Jesus” puts the masses into a tailspin?
I wonder why the whole world doesn’t put the toilet paper roll on to roll over and not under.
I wonder why that husband of mine says, “It’s not all about you Jodi Rae!” Of course it is all about me when you’re me. I wonder if he’ll ever understand.
I’m a fraud. Those things I just typed I really do wonder about but…
I want to tell you what I really wonder but I don’t have the guts to ask.
Everything I wonder about lately is much more serious than all of that.
The things I wonder about most of you, I would hope, would agree with me on. However I’ve learned from writing a column for so long that the people who don’t agree can inflict some pretty disparaging damage on one’s reputation. They can take one little insight, belief or sentence and use it against you in ways you could have never imagined.
I once wrote something to lighten the heavy hearts of residents in our city after the newest flood outlook was just released. I wrote, “Would you all like to join me in a rowdy chorus of “Row, row, row your boat?” I got a message that said, “You need to find Jesus!” And another note said, “You need to spend more time praying than wishing a flood on Valley City.” How they took that and turned it into “that” was so far beyond me. I prayed for them instead. I wondered if they knew how wrong they read me.
I wonder then, after all of the harsh words, disagreeing, unforgiving statements why I’d even consider telling you what I’m really wondering about.
I guess I’ll know all of the answers to my questions soon after November 2nd.
I wonder if you’ll vote.
I wonder if you’ll vote because you’ve researched or if you’ll vote because you’re reacting to one single thing that applies to your current life situation.
I wonder if you know the word “free” doesn’t mean free when it comes to healthcare and that instead it means, “Mandated.”
I wonder if you know that mandated means, “command.”
I wonder if you’re a smoker and someone commands you to quit how that would make you feel and react.
I wonder if the elderly have been informed how concerned they should be.
I wonder if aborted babies scream as they’re being killed. I scream when I stub my toe so I have to wonder that.
Most of all I wonder why we allow it all. I wonder. That’s all. I just do.
Thank you for seeing me on such short notice and offering your therapeutic expertise in allowing me to vent. After November 2nd it may take me a whole lot longer to get in to seek help for any psychological or medical need. I’ll be the blonde rowing her boat, holding her gun, wearing her fur, sporting her “I just voted” sticker living in the woods mandating her own freedom.
Ingstad lives on the prairie near Valley City and writes this column for the Times-Record.