One thing I know Pam, my wife, wishes I would get over, but probably never will, is my love of terrible jokes. They're not terrible in the sense of it's not something that would make your mother or grandmother blush, but in the sense of...an example will serve my purpose best. Why should you never say the number four? (think about it for a second) What is four backwards? What animal makes that sounds? What is that animal's name backwards? I told that joke in my high school calculus class, and the teach who was a very serious, though kind man, almost fell over he was laughing so hard. I think that just cemented in my mind that the joke really is funny. Not that mathematicians are good people to gauge hilarity of jokes off of. Here's a bad math joke, what is non-orientable and lives in the ocean? Mobius Dick. That one's only mildly funny though. My love of terrible jokes can be blamed mostly on my father, from whom I have gathered a fair number that are in my arsenal. The next two will demonstrate:
What did Tarzan say when he saw the elephants come running? Here come the elephants.
What did Tarzan say when he saw the elephants, wearing sunglasses, come running? Nothing, he didn't recognize them.
The list goes on and on (just so you know I was laughing hysterically as I wrote those). Another interesting side note, hysteria and hysterectomy have the same root. They used to think that the women parts would make women go crazy, which can be argued the same for men but it's not hystorically correct, and so they would take them out. From this springs the word hysterectomy. Ah, those crazy Roman people. They also used to make people wrestle bears naked and all greased up. Tom Waits has a song called In The Colosseum, which is funny because we don't do that anymore. When I was in Russia someone told me a joke, which really is funny, trying to be offensive because they disagreed with my decision to not eat meat (gotta love 19 year olds from BYU-haha, I speak of it as if it were it's own country/island). What do you call a vegetarian with diarrhea? A salad shooter. It took be about a year and half to finally laugh at that one. I'm always amazed, especially at myself, for the stigmas attached to certain things based on the people who introduced us to them, or that we met when we were first introduced to the thing. I also really like the word thing, and all that that entrails.
I think people should experiment while still young. You may take that for whatever you would like it to be. I experimented while I was in college, and look at where I am now, still in college trying to get an advanced degree in chemistry. Maybe experimenting isn't such a good thing. I seriously thought about living out of my car for a semester just so I would know what it was like to be somewhat homeless. My friend, Adam, talked me out of it. It's still an idea that captures my attention from time to time, though now I would get in a lot of trouble for doing it. I would probably fair a little better now owing to the fact that I've a few more layers of fat than I did back then and it's actually warmer in Lansing, MI than northern Utah (my fingers tried to type Italy instead of Utah, and while this may or may not be true, I have no idea why they decided to try and type Italy. Odd fingers, and maybe the pope is secretly controlling my mind using his hat of pointy telepathy focusing awesomeness? I'm scared. Oooh, another joke. What do you call a sleep walking nun? A roamin' catholic).
I was having a familiar conversation with a friend yesterday about how musicians who use drugs make some of the most amazing music while using, and then when they clean up their music more or less sucks. This isn't to say they're not good musicians, they just can't write good music like they used to. I have a theory, which has no real basis other than I've never done drugs, though I received a contact high while at an indoor Primus concert (duh, you're saying-though I didn't know I was high at the time until almost 7 years later when someone described to me what it was like to smoke weed). Using drugs they are able to more easily access the portion of their brain where we go to make wonderful music, stories, etc. etc. etc. While they are able to create some of the most amazing music, art and other things (there was a mathematician that used speed to help him write his proofs, and he was amazing, who finally cleaned up, and in his words he couldn't "see the math anymore" so he went back to using speed) they actually end up cheating themselves in the end. When they come clean they have to learn how to access that area without the use of drugs, which is that much harder after having had such easy access to it before. But that's my non-drug-introduced opinion. That was boring too. I would make a terrible philosopher.
So the point I've been trying to make is that when you get older things happen that you really hate. I found out the other day that I have a condition that is characteristic of (older than 20) people who spend a lot of time sitting on their bums all day. This, while not life threatening, makes certain aspects of the day unsightly and worst of all, brings out the 14 year old who has to try ever so hard to restrain himself from laughing at things that grown-ups don't laugh at. See, just thinking about it right now makes me chuckle. If I ever get put in a nursing home they're going to hate me, because not only will I be laughing at all the bodily functions I do myself, but there will be an entire building of people doing the same things and more for me to laugh at. Growing up is awesome.