Brain Transplant 10/14/08

I had a dream last night that someone had developed a technique for brain transplant which was not physical, but more energetic, I suppose, and I was going to be a brain donor. I was transferring some part of my brain to a poor woman who had lost some art of her mind. In my dream, I was not worried at all, which kind of concerned me when I woke up. First of all, the current state of my brain is not so great that I should be passing chunks of it to anyone. Second, who do I think I am?

I feel pretty ordinary these days, and it's not a bad place to hang out. When I was talking to Deane this morning about something simple that I just couldn't wrap my mind around, he wondered if the brain transfer might already have happened, only it actually had taken my IQ down a few dozen points. I can't say, which is unusual, because I generally can say a lot about almost anything, just blabber chatter blather away.

But a few weeks ago, I heard a very funny comedian, a man, talking about the difference between men and women, and the way women's minds never ever ever stop churning and plotting and analyzing, as opposed to men, who when asked what they're thinking, say, "Nothing," and it's true. Anyway, this guy thought that all men should have a stack of "shut the hell up" cards for their wives or girlfriends, so they could stop the rapidly accelerating descent into hell that ensues when women just can't shut up.

So I've been quieter lately, consciously choosing to shut up a lot. Boy, does Deane love it, and me, although you might wonder, if I'm silent, what it is exactly he loves. I think it's the peace and quiet, so he can be thinking nothing, and after my brain transplant, perhaps I should be quiet until I see what's left to say.