I like to throw things. I like to throw them far, for power, as when throwing a rock into a mountain gorge. I like to skip stones along the water for finesse. I especially like to throw small items across a room, as when throwing a crumpled sheet of paper into the trash. The last type of throwing is not done merely for finesse, but in a partially conscious attempt to assert mastery over my physical environment. I go through spells of accuracy and deviation, but being mocked for bad aim really gets to me--because my brain is used to associating the action with greater implications. Over the past few years, I've spent more time that I'd care to admit, usually with friends, flicking or tossing bottlecaps across the room at various targets. It got to the point where it was formalized into a game called Bolf (Bottlecap Golf), complete with its own obstacles, scoring system and handicaps. One of my fondest memories from my time in Zambia in fact involved an extended morning session on the linoleum fairway. Cherished memories!
The deeper connection I was referring to reminds me of something that I did a lot as a child, and which I still catch myself doing from time to time today. If there is a question hanging over me, most often a romantic one, I will attempt to resolve it by a trial of manual dexterity and coordination. As in: If I can make 7 out of 10 free throws, then she will agree to go out with me. Or: Making this Q-tip into the trash on the first try means I should go ahead and tell her how I feel. Damn! All right, maybe I can still think about doing it if I go two for three. Shit balls! Three for five then.
I'm interested by this stuff. Does anyone else do it? What does it mean?
1 comment:
it's no different from "she loves me, she loves me not" while picking petals off a flower. In my estimation, it's a reflection of our yearning to believe that some higher power is controlling our fates, or at least weighing in on our existence from time to time....
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