I am of the age that I am surprised by new information. I meet anything I do not know with broad skepticism. Several times this past week I have been surprised.
First, I was in a meeting and someone said, "You people need to get out more! You're like Kaspar Hauser, here!"
"Kaspar Hauser?" we all said stupidly, which is ironic, since those are the first words Kaspar Hauser said.
"YOU don't KNOW who KASPAR HAUSER is?" he squawked in disbelief. "The guy who grew up in a box and thought all horses were made of wood?"
"You lie," I thought. Then I went here and learned of Kaspar Hauser. I intend to invoke his name all fall. I'm so pale, I'm Kaspar Hauser. I've never heard of that Chicago-based rock/pop/folk band led by filmmaker/songwriter Thomas Comerford. I'm kind of 'Kaspar Hauser' that way.
My Brother, the POW
Every once in a while, my brother gets maybe a little divorced from reality. Just the standard mildly paranoid stuff, the phone company, usually. So the other day he called just so he could tell me that Rachel Maddow had reminded him of something.
"Guess what the name of the first prisoner of war in Iraq was!" Then he said his own name.
I thought "Red Flag! Paranoia alert!" I again turned to Google and of course, he was right.
I imagine this is yet another proof that I am a teenager now that I'm middle-aged. Like a teenager, I think I know everything.