Combos In A Bowl

One day when we were living in the woods some of our kids came over to visit.  The grandchildren tore off to play with each other and the rest of us sat down at the dinning table.  Jackie looked for something for us to snack on and she found a bag of combos, those little round pretzel pieces filled with cheddar cheese.  She filled a couple of glass bowls with these and placed them in the middle of the group.  One of our brainiac  offspring looked at the snack and remarked; "Oh look, combos in a bowl!"  This remark started everyone laughing.  Well, everyone but Jackie.  And the more we laughed the harder we laughed.  We laughed until our sides hurt.  I guess you all may agree with my dear wife that there is nothing funny about a glass bowl filled with combos but the randomness of it all was momentarily hilarious.

I am probably to blame for passing on this randomness gene to my progeny.  Things are always popping into my brain and sometimes I verbalize the dysfunction of those synoptic connections.  Scientists say that our  minds want to make sense of randomness and so we fill in the blanks.  Sometimes we realize that this is all nonsense but sometimes with certain people nonsense becomes reality.

Earlier this year Jackie's 93 year old mother started hearing a man singing hymns.  This went on all through the night and she became convinced that there was a guy in the apartment complex near us who was doing this.  She even had a story about why he sang through the night.  His wife told him he had to stop singing, he refused, they had a big argument and to spite her he sings through the night and the day.  Helen  kept asking everyone; "Don't you hear that guy singing?"  Since no one would admit hearing him she actually went out one evening toward the apartments to try to identify exactly where the guy lived. 

Finally one of the family found something online identified as Musical Ear Syndrome.  This usually occurs with older women who have lost a lot of their hearing.  Because the sensory input is no longer there and the brain doesn't like blank spaces it fills in that particular space with something familiar and comforting, usually hymns sung in tenor by a male (although one lady has heard nothing but the Happy Birthday song constantly for 5 years).  There is no known cure.  This described what Helen was experiencing to a tee.

We printed this information out and showed Helen.  Jackie told her this was like when someone loses a limb and they still have sensations of pain.  Helen understood this and was greatly releaved that she wasn't going crazy.  Now a half of a Xanax pill each night helps her sleep well enough to be able to ignore the music.

But now back to my random gene.  I was walking through our little run down mall today on the way to the office and I noticed all these tables being set up.  They had those little folded placards on top with names like Blodget Hospital, Spectrum Health and Forest Hills.  It turns out that the mall was sponsoring something called a mental health festival although the girl working in our office told me it was a mental health carnival.  I suppose to her there would be no difference but to me carnival means rides!  Mental health type rides!  I could start describing what those would be but I'll let your imagination take care of it.

Earlier this week it was in the mid 80's and  I was out on a driving test with still 15 year old Samantha.  Sam was dressed in black boots, heavy black nylons, a black leather mini skirt, a black blouse covered by a black leather vest.  The only bright spot she showed was the little pink rosettes between each of her teeth on her braces.  We are driving along and I remark;  "We use to have an examiner who worked for us that wore all black, just like you - (pause) - He died of a heat stroke - (pause) - It was awful - (pause) - I wanted to help but I was afraid that I might burn my hands on all of those little studs."  Sam's father sitting in the back was cracking up.  Sam just drove on.  For me, combos in a bowl.