Gee Mail

All that stuff that the grandparents forward….

I found the way out

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It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties, now and then, just to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone —- “to relax,” I told myself —- but I knew it wasn’t true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time. That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life – and that night she went and spent the night at her mother’s.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don’t mix, but I couldn’t help myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau, Muir, Confucius and Kafka. I would return to the office all turned around, asking, “What is it exactly that we are doing here?”

One day the boss called me in. He said, “Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don’t stop thinking on the job you’ll have to find another job.”

This gave me a lot to think about. I came home early after my conversation with the boss. “Honey,” I confessed, “I’ve been thinking.

“I know you’ve been thinking,” she said, “and I want a divorce!”

“But hon, surely it’s not that serious.”

“It is serious,” she said, lower lip a quiver. “You think as much as a damn philosopher and philosophers don’t make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won’t have any money!”

“I think that’s a faulty syllogism,” I said impatiently. She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.

“I’m going to the library,” I snarled as I stomped out the door. I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors. They didn’t open. The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night. Leaning on the glass door, a Thinkers Anonymous poster caught my eye. “Is heavy thinking ruining your life?” it asked.

This is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was “Porky’s.” Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.

I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. The road to recovery is nearly complete for me. Today I took a final step.

I joined the Democrat Party.

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