This entry was published at least two years ago (originally posted on July 18, 2005). Since that time the information may have become outdated or my beliefs may have changed (in general, assume a more open and liberal current viewpoint). A fuller disclaimer is available.
The front steps of the empty section of the Convention Center that was being used for the temporary Seattle Central Library were being washed off today, sending streams of water running down the sidewalk. As I walked along, I started stepping over the rivulets, not for any sane (if somewhat stupid) reason like not wanting to get my shoes wet…
…but because somewhere, in the back of my brain, I’d decided that it wasn’t really water, but streams of acid running down the street that would eat through the bottom of my shoes and into my feet if I accidentally stepped into one.
Some days, it’s really hard to remember that I’m 32, and not 12.
“Auzonomous (Hot Tracks)” by Quinn from the album Roadkill 2.1 (1993, 6:23).
I have to admit, I still leap off the couch and into the dining room or kitchen, imagining that there’s lava all around that’ll burn me alive if I’m not careful.
But only when my wife isn’t around, of course.
And I’m 29.
Yeah. My motorcycle was a silver spaceship sometimes on long rides all by myself, rocketing home from some alien expedition, only to find trouble afoot back on Earth.. dun dun dun…
Heh, yeah. I forgot to turn off that part of my imagination when I grew up, too. And boy, is it over-active sometimes.
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