Kahve Chronicles Part-9

Thinking is risky business.
I was good at many things, before my encounter with René -the-I-think-therefore-I-am syllogism freak
Since then, my life has been an unmitigated series of failures that landed me in my present evocation
A Full Professor with tenure at a prestigious university.
I will protect the innocent by not naming any names

Once I was really good at ping pong, at least for my age
Soon I figured, my three older brothers did not think so
I always ended up being the last to pickup the rackets and the first to set them down
One day, I got so mad that I threw the rackets at them and their fem companions.
I needed to move on

This was just one of my well-meaning demonstrations of skill, many of which bore similar fruit
Therefore, I decided to become good at making things rather than breaking them.
I cut branches off of trees in our yard and made bows, arrows, and sling shots
I did not know what else to do with a pocket knife, twine, and an old inner tube of my dysfunctional bicycle tire
I could have played S&M games with my pet dog, Kopek, but unexpectedly she was poisoned by animal “rescue”

My indulgence in bows-arrows and slingshots also came to an unceremonious end
Despite my mother’s heroic efforts, my father discovered the use I got out of my craftsmanship
With an arrow, I had almost poked the eye off of my best friend
Further, I had distressed countless innocent birds with rocks slung from my sling.
So, I moved on.

When I became a father, I wanted to prove to my father that not all craftsmanship was harmful.
On my basement workbench, I built two sleds from recycled wood planks using only hand held tools
I was proud of my achievement.
However, my children, not jaded by deep thought as I was, saw clearly what I had done.
They were too embarrassed even to come anywhere close to my crafty creations

So we drove to Home Depot
Purchased sleds made out of polymers engineered in some chemical plant in China
All for a fraction of the cost of the paint I would have had to use on my wooden sleds
My father never got to observe that craftsmanship can be rewarding at least for China and Home Depot
Since, at the time, he was too preoccupied with the latest Elvis gig.

I moved on and became an architect, believing like everyone else that it is a most fulfilling profession
Becoming a doctor was far too time consuming and costly
And as one of my acquaintances said about his father’s legal profession
“The difference between Lawyer and liar is a mere nuance in the art of pronunciation”
I earned two masters and a PhD that, as I learned afterwards, were unnecessary for practicing architecture

As a practitioner I felt that architects were underpaid, overworked, and poorly treated
Respectively, developers and contractors had the first and the last say
Architects, stuck somewhere in the middle, were squeezed into the realm of the insignificant
With compromised designs, mounting insurance costs, and increasing risks of litigation.
Once again, I had to move on

So what’s a guy – or a canine – to do?
At each turn, I had to abandon my evocations because I thought too much about them
I figured out what I was doing wrong; better yet, what was wrong with the world
I had failed utterly in the “real” world, what ever that means
And, consequently, I was perfectly primed for a career in academia.

I talked eloquently about failure, fiction, and fiasco as the very best lessons from which to learn
Students followed my impassioned admonition like the bear-children following those of Papa Bear
My colleagues’ tales of failure outdid mine with spectacular success, which is a topic for another chronicle.
I earned my tenure and promotion gratefully
Thus, choosing thought, failure, and academia over action, success, and reality

Now, I have a lot of time to teach, fail, and think
I rarely play ping pong or make sling shots any more
I talk a lot about the pleasures and perils of doing so
I have the full attention of innocent minds attached to ears that suck up my words
Like so many automaton rolling through reels of cellulose acetate

© All rights reserved by Sail Anon

Advertisement