Bernie and Kurt were longtime friends. Best friends, really. They were also roommates that had lived together for years. Complete opposites, Bernie and Kurt found that the age old truth was indeed correct: opposites do tend to attract, at least most of the time.
One day Bernie and Kurt were sitting in their living room. Bernie was staring intently at the T.V. while Kurt read his daily paper. As the images floated around Bernie's mind from the television program he was watching, Bernie turned to Kurt with an abrupt and somewhat strange question.
"Is it true, Kurt?"
Shaken from his reverie, Kurt looked over the top of the newspaper. "Is what true?"
"The age old question, Kurt. You know....why did the chicken cross the road?" Bernie stared vacantly at his friend.
"What, Bernie? Why are you talking about chickens?" Kurt responded, irritation edging his voice.
"Because, Kurt. I have heard the question many times. Why? Why did the chicken cross the road?"
Kurt set down his paper with a rustle and a bustle. "Why are you asking ridiculous questions? That's not an age old question! That's a riddle, Bernie. A ridiculous riddle."
Bernie shook his head. "No, Kurt. It's an important question. Kind of like the one about the chicken and the egg."
Kurt stared at Bernie. "What's up with you and chickens, Bernie? It's a chicken. Who cares about a chicken?"
Bernie was taken aback. "Well, you seem to care a lot about chickens, Kurt."
"I care about chickens? When do I care about chickens?"
"When you eat supper...and sometimes lunch..."
Kurt threw his hands in the air. "I care about chickens at supper and lunch because I'm hungry! Not because I care about a ridiculous riddle regarding a chicken crossing a road! Since when have you ever seen a chicken cross a road, Bernie? When?"
"Okay then. There's the answer to your question."
"What answer, Kurt?" Bernie scratched his head.
Kurt sat forward in his chair, pushing his newspaper onto the ottoman in front of him. "CHICKENS DON'T CROSS ROADS, BERNIE. THAT'S THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTION."
Cowed by Kurt's irritation, Bernie was silent for a moment. Kurt watched him for approximately thirty seconds then sunk back into his chair, reaching for his paper again.
Sensing that the confrontation was over-at least temporarily over-Bernie said, "That doesn't answer the question, Kurt."
"Are you kidding me, Bernie? Are you kidding me right now?" Kurt plunged forward in the chair, almost nose diving across the ottoman.
"NO? NO what?" Kurt ground his teeth together. Then the thought occurred to him that it was ludicrous to be this angry over a riddle that some person most likely made up in the midst of a fit of complete and total boredom.
"I'm not kidding. It....doesn't answer..the question."
Kurt sighed and shook his head. "Okay, Bernie. If you want the question answered so badly, go find a chicken crossing a road and ask it yourself."
"But chickens don't speak English, Kurt."
"Enough! Enough! I don't have an answer to your question! I don't know why a chicken would cross a road, I don't know why it would WANT to cross a road and I sure am not going to ASK a chicken a question! ENOUGH! This conversation is over! Good night, Bernie!" Kurt jumped off the chair, tripped past Bernie and ran to his room, slamming the door.
"But Kurt, it's noon..."
"Done! I'm done! Putting on my earbuds now. DONE Bernie!" he screamed from his bedroom.
Shrugging, Bernie clicked the remote to turn the sound up on the T.V. and lay back in his recliner. I'll ask tomorrow when he's in a better mood. I wonder what got into him. He's so cranky!
Are you aware of the numerous things that make you, you? What would your answer be if I asked you what makes you special? Some of you may look toward the ground and say, "Not much. My fingerprints, I guess." Others may exuberantly proclaim, "Everything about me!" Who's right? Let's explore the topic further!
For those of us with a "Pollyanna perspective", we'd happily exclaim, "Why, it's my personality and the way I look! Also the way I think and my unique traits like my fingerprints!" Crazy thing is, these optimists are correct...and then some. Not only is our appearance something that sets us apart, but there are other things that do too.
If your argument is "we're all human and we're all alike", you're correct. But we're all also different and that's the beauty of life. We are all truly unique. Not only because of the above reasons but also because of several more. First, our DNA: the most important reality of this blog post. Obviously DNA reigns supreme when it comes to pulling us apart at the seams, quite literally. DNA evidence obliterated everything when it came to crime scene investigation and litigation.
But what else is there? Well, our tongues for one. Because our tongues are kept safely in our mouth (or not so safely, depending on what we talk about), our unique tongue prints are kept intact. How would that work though, when asking for prints? Could be a bit challenging....
Then there are our ear lobes. Instruments have been created to illuminate our earlobes to help in identifying us. And it's pretty conclusive. Strange, eh? I remember my grandmother being obsessed about earlobes....she was obviously onto something....
Many of us probably know about our retinol capillary patterns being individually unique. Such is the reason for eye scanning equipment in high security areas. But what about our irises? Also very unique to each individual because "the color and structure is genetically linked, but the details of the pattern are not". Hmmm....this gives more meaning to "looking deep into your loved ones' eyes".....
What about how you walk? Have you ever given thought to the way your body moves? Well, that's another way to determine individuality! Not just your legs but your entire body, how you sway and put pressure on your feet, etc. Makes me wonder about those of us who trip or fall off balance....can that be studied, too? (Just a joke to make you smile! Watch out for that rock...!)
Our voices and lip prints are also unique markers of who we are. I don't know about you, but I can just imagine a police station: someone comes in and is asked to be lip printed. I don't think that would be a fun scenario for the officers on duty. Do you? Could make for an interesting day, though. :)
Judge: Step forward, please. I understand you are being held for theft?
Defendant: Yes, your Honor.
Judge: Would you care to share your side of the story?
Defendant: Yes, your Honor. I walked into the store, leaned against the glass case and left my finger prints. Then I saw something... an amazing watch in the case.... and looked more closely, accidentally brushing my lips against the glass. Stunned, I stood up and found myself staring directly into the eyes of the clerk. As she asked me if she could help me, I cut my finger on the edge of the glass case. She gave me some kleenex and I wrapped it around my finger, thanking her profusely. Then she showed me the watch. I put it on my wrist, starting to walk back and forth in front of a nearby mirror to admire how it shined against my skin. I tripped over a chair near the mirror and the watch fell off my wrist, landing on the floor and shattering. I freaked out, went back to the case where the clerk stood with her mouth agape, and offered to pay for the watch. Flustered, I paid her and then began walking out of the store. Without thinking, I grabbed a scarf and dabbed my forehead then shoved it in my back pocket. Immediately, upon leaving the store, I was apprehended.
(This person is doomed! Not only because of all the evidence left behind, but also because of the security cameras!) There. Hope I made you laugh at least a little. So this has not only been an informative post which I think I could safely call 'Interesting', but also 'Humorous'. Where will I post it? Probably 'Interesting'. But I digress....
As for the point of this post, you are unique for so many ways that it would be pretty much impossible to deny it. And there are so many intriguing things about you that make you unique that you must admit, there's got to be an overall purpose to this! So enjoy being you and know that nobody out there can fill your shoes-scientifically or from a humanitarian standpoint. Namaste!
References (Quite Seriously):
Quora: What Things Are Unique To A Person Besides A Fingerprint?
Medical Daily: Special Snowflake: 4 Things (Other Than Your Fingerprints) That Make You 1 In 7.2 Billion
Henrietta was having a trying day, to say the least. Her day started when her alarm clock went off....30 minutes late!
"Oh, dear Lord!" She jumped out of bed, her heart racing as she rifled through her closet, grabbing the first thing she could find. Throwing it on, she jumped into a pair of black pumps. (They do go with anything, right?)
Racing out to the kitchen, she fumbled with the coffee maker and spilled water all over the floor.
I don't have time for this! Forget the coffee! I'll get some at the office!
She grabbed her purse and her briefcase and ran out to the garage. Jumping in her car, she peeled out of the driveway after barely escaping ripping the garage door off the hinges. Without thinking, she shut the garage door and flew down the street fifteen miles over the speed limit.
If I'm late again, my boss is going to have my head!
She drove onto the on ramp and floored it on the highway. Soon she heard a siren and saw flashing red and blue lights in her rear view mirror.
Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me! Now I'm going to be at least a half hour late!
She pulled to the side of the highway and watched the patrol officer walk to her car.
"Driver's license and registration," he said flatly. "Do you know how fast you were going?" He looked inside the car and then stared at her sarcastically.
"Uh..I..ah...not really, sir," she stammered.
Oh my God. My boss is going to kill me.
"Well, you were going twenty miles over the speed limit, ma'am. Any excuse as to why this happened?" The officer stated in a monotone.
"I'm late for work..." Henrietta began.
"Well, ma'am, I hardly think that being late for work is an exceptional reason for putting your life and the lives of others at risk," the office stated, his face expressionless.
"Yes, sir. Sorry...sir," Henrietta babbled, tears pricking at her eyes. She handed him her license and registration.
"I will be a moment," the officer told her as he walked back to his car.
All because my alarm went off late. Oh, God. I hope I don't lose my license. Then I'll get it for driving with a revoked license!
She nervously glanced back at the squad car. Finally, the officer got out and walked back over to her.
"Being late to work is no reason to put lives in danger. At any rate, I've decided to only cite you for speeding ten miles per hour over the speed limit. Here is your ticket. If you wish to fight it, go to the scheduled hearing on the top of the ticket. Otherwise, send in your fine before the court date or you may have a warrant out for your arrest." He stared at her. "Any questions?"
"No, sir, thanks..."
"Very well. Have a good day, ma'am," he said flatly.
He walked back to his car and she took off...going the speed limit. She glanced at the ticket.
Two hundred fifty dollars? Is he out of his freakin' mind?
Tears stung at her eyes again.
I should just call in sick. If this is any indication of how this day is going to go, I don't want to go to work anyway.
Realizing she had to pay a two hundred and fifty dollar ticket, she decided to bite the bullet and show up to work late.
What's the worst that could happen?
She drove to work...going the speed limit...and when she got there, her boss called her into his office.
"Henrietta, this is the third time this month that you've shown up late. Any excuse this time?"
"Yes, sir. I got pulled over by a cop. And I got a ticket."
"For what?" he said sarcastically.
"For speeding, sir," she droned, feeling like a two year old that had just spilled grape juice on a white carpet.
"Hmmm. For speeding," her boss nodded. "Alright. Well, I'm writing you up for being late again."
"Henrietta, you are over an hour late. Apparently you were late before you even got pulled over. How far away do you live? Twenty minutes?" He stated dryly.
"Okay then. Don't let it happen again. If you get written up one more time you'll be fired." He opened his desk.
She stared at him.
"Is there something else, Henrietta?" he looked over at her.
"No, sir. Nothing." She turned and walked out of his office.
She made her way to her office...a small room at the end of the hall. She stepped inside, shut the door and went to her chair and collapsed into it. She stretched back and took a deep breath of air.
Okay. Now things are going to calm down. This will end up being a good day.
"Miss Wilkins?" the secretary spoke on the intercom. "Call. Line four."
"Put it through."
She picked up the phone. "What the Hell is going on with your stupid company? I spoke to a guy down in customer service and got transferred three times and then I got disconnected and I had to call back. I don't even know who the Hell you are but I need to get this situation taken care of...."
Henrietta set the phone down on her desk and started to laugh hysterically. Tears flowed down her cheeks because she began to laugh so hard.
When it rains it pours! Thank you Jesus for giving me a sense of humor! At least I still have it! Don't ever let me lose it, either!
After a few moments, she picked the phone back up. The other end was quiet. A few seconds later, she heard the same irritated voice. "Hello? Are you there?'
Sighing deeply, she answered. "Yes." A fit of hysterics threatened to hit again as the person on the other end of the line started screaming.
"Yup. That's the stuff of life," she thought to herself. The good, the bad and ...the hysterical!
She set the phone down again as another laughing fit took her by storm.