“Ya know,” says Jack to me the other day, “Oi’ve been t’inkin.”
“So that’s twice this week. And why speak to me as if you were from Newfoundland?”
“OK, laugh at my expense. The accent is just to get your attention for something important and profound.”
“And what is that pray tell?”
“First, you sound too stuffy. Second, I’ve been thinking about how everything in our world is made up of relationships that are mutual and reciprocal.”
“Huh? I find you hard to follow when you use big words.”
“You know what I mean. Yin and Yang. Tit for tat – which is just a short form way of saying this for that. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. I meant metaphorically so you can stop sticking your back into my chest.”
“I’m not that into back scratching anyway. Give me another example.”
“You’re always trying to one up me. I say, ‘Hi how are you?’ Then you say, ‘How’s it hangin’?’
“But then the next time you say, ‘What’s shakin’?’ So I have to ask ‘What’s goin’ down?’”
“Exactly. That’s just us carrying on the reciprocity.”
“I totally get you.”
“Are you picking up what I’m laying down?”
“I’m completely smelling what you’re stepping in.”
“Oh now you’ve gone too far…”
“I’ve crossed the line?”
“You’ve left town and reached Tuscon!”
“I’m feeling your pain.”
“You’re so far away, it must be telempathy.”
“Ok but this isn’t so deep.”
“I’m working my way in. What if we applied this way of thinking to everything? What if we looked at everything from the point of view of reciprocity? If it was a fundamental aspect of the universe? You know they already have evidence that if you change the trait of one particle created in a collision, it’s counterpart traveling in the other direction and possibly light years away will instantaneously change in the same way.”
“So?”
“So I was watering the lawn the other day and I was thinking that the water and the lawn had a relationship. I could just as easily think of myself of having water and deciding what to do with it so I lawned the water.”
“You lawned the water. Did you also lawn the mower?”
“Actually, I did that first. After I lawned the water, I car – ed the water.”
“Does that mean you washed the car?”
“Exactly.”
“Brilliant. You’ve invented a way of talking without verbs.”
“Ingenious eh? I laundried the water today and then I clothes-ed the drier.”
“Uh huh. And what are we doing right now?”
“Oh that’s a hard one – wait! I have it! Talk is us-ing or maybe I have to say we-ing.”
“Confusion is me-ing, I think.”
“Oh come off it! This is revolutionary. Someone will write a book about the moment I was lawning my water in the same way we discuss how the apple fell from the tree onto Newton’s head.”
“Are you sure it fell on his head? Was his head appled or was it something else?”
“Besides Newton at the time, who cares what body part was involved? Really! It’s the principle that’s important!”
“Well I hope you can work out all the kinks. For now, a walk and home is me-ing. I have to lawn my water to nematode it. I hope you travel in the opposite direction.”
“As we’re both leaving this little encounter at the same time I’d ask you not to change too many of your traits on the way. I like the way I am now.”
“Don’t worry. We didn’t start out the same anyway. Happy nouning! See you soon.”
“Dig you later.”
