The Value of Nothing
Feel free to skewer me as yet another victim of parenthood. When your nights are filled with tasks associated with keeping another human being happy/fed/not filthy, your ability to have clever thoughts to try and write about in a blog diminishes severely. Heck, even my shower time, which once was a fertile field that would produce a plethora of ideas to be cultivated, has transformed into producing a crop of one plant: "I wonder if Riley is sick/developing okay/etc etc."
The light at the end of the tunnel is that she is now going to bed at or before nine. Which, once her last whimper is let out and she's settled into a night's sleep, what used to be a race to get to sleep for Jessica and I has become time of confusion and bewilderment for us. Being so used to not having a moment to watch a TV show, having a full hour to ourselves before we have to turn in for the night is lost on us. We wonder through the house wondering what to do. We'll put away a toy and maybe check the weather online, but eventually we grow tired of trying to entertain ourselves and go to bed at 9:30. Hopefully, in theory, we are adjusting back to being used to having some free moments and be able to enjoy them.
That being said, I figured I'd try and kick start a will to write something by recanting a story that I was reminded of the other day. It is one of my favorite memories of highschool, which once you reach the conclusion, you'll pity me and my non-exciting 15-18 year experience.
Sometime mid-senior year, someone in my friend group found that our cafeteria sold "Vita Pups", which were exactly like "Slush Puppies" only the geniuses in the marketing department of Slush Puppies, Inc. thought that having "Vita" in the name would make it okay to sell ice water with sugar syrup in schools.
In case you are ignorant to difference between Slush Puppies vs. Icee's, allow me to explain. Icee's are premixed ice and flavor:
Whereas, Slush Puppies allow you to add your choice of flavor(s) to ice (and evidently contains flavors so intense they have to be frozen):
For obvious reasons of being awesome, Vita Pups became the new fad of the group. Our table was filled with guys enjoying their candy in a cup every day.
This fad would have quickly faded if not for second discovery: the cafeteria would allow you to get 2 syrup flavors in your Pup. A quest was born. What was the best flavor combination? With 6 syrups to choose from, our group was currently looking at 21 flavors (plus the 6 original) to select as the ultimate Vita Pup flavor. The routine went like this: you'd select your flavors, arrive back at the table, present it to the group and detail your opinion.
Debate raged for weeks. The quest was further complicated by a week in which someone in our group has the balls of steel to walk up to the cafeteria worker and ask for 3 flavors. Stunned, the worker complied. With the flood gates opened, we all demanded the equivalent 3 flavor Pups until word got up to the cafeteria higher ups and the gluttonous practice was shut down. We were forced back to the "cherry/blueberry vs. Strawberry/purple" debates with an occasional mention of the time of "3 flavors."
It went on like that until a guy from our group came back from the cafeteria with a weird smile on his face. Upon someone asking what flavor he got, he replied "Nothing."
"Nothing."
I'll never forget that moment. It was as close to Zen as I'll ever be in my life. He we were, racing forward seeking the answer by adding 1+2, then 1+3, then 2+3, and for a time 1+2+3. And he comes back with a possible answer of 0. It was a powerful example of lateral thinking that probably taught me a more useful lesson than a full year of AP European History.
We all instantly put down our Pups, gave the Newton of slushies a jealous look wishing we'd thought of it, and went up to try our own.
I wish I could tell you that that Pup of nothingness was like eating enlightenment. That its sweet flavor was the joy of minimalism in syrup form, filling my stomach and soul with goodness. But it wasn't. It was awful. Imagine what you think unflavored ice that has been sitting in a machine for a week would taste like and that's about it.
Doesn't mean it wasn't a terrific idea.
The light at the end of the tunnel is that she is now going to bed at or before nine. Which, once her last whimper is let out and she's settled into a night's sleep, what used to be a race to get to sleep for Jessica and I has become time of confusion and bewilderment for us. Being so used to not having a moment to watch a TV show, having a full hour to ourselves before we have to turn in for the night is lost on us. We wonder through the house wondering what to do. We'll put away a toy and maybe check the weather online, but eventually we grow tired of trying to entertain ourselves and go to bed at 9:30. Hopefully, in theory, we are adjusting back to being used to having some free moments and be able to enjoy them.
That being said, I figured I'd try and kick start a will to write something by recanting a story that I was reminded of the other day. It is one of my favorite memories of highschool, which once you reach the conclusion, you'll pity me and my non-exciting 15-18 year experience.
Sometime mid-senior year, someone in my friend group found that our cafeteria sold "Vita Pups", which were exactly like "Slush Puppies" only the geniuses in the marketing department of Slush Puppies, Inc. thought that having "Vita" in the name would make it okay to sell ice water with sugar syrup in schools.
In case you are ignorant to difference between Slush Puppies vs. Icee's, allow me to explain. Icee's are premixed ice and flavor:
Whereas, Slush Puppies allow you to add your choice of flavor(s) to ice (and evidently contains flavors so intense they have to be frozen):
For obvious reasons of being awesome, Vita Pups became the new fad of the group. Our table was filled with guys enjoying their candy in a cup every day.
This fad would have quickly faded if not for second discovery: the cafeteria would allow you to get 2 syrup flavors in your Pup. A quest was born. What was the best flavor combination? With 6 syrups to choose from, our group was currently looking at 21 flavors (plus the 6 original) to select as the ultimate Vita Pup flavor. The routine went like this: you'd select your flavors, arrive back at the table, present it to the group and detail your opinion.
Debate raged for weeks. The quest was further complicated by a week in which someone in our group has the balls of steel to walk up to the cafeteria worker and ask for 3 flavors. Stunned, the worker complied. With the flood gates opened, we all demanded the equivalent 3 flavor Pups until word got up to the cafeteria higher ups and the gluttonous practice was shut down. We were forced back to the "cherry/blueberry vs. Strawberry/purple" debates with an occasional mention of the time of "3 flavors."
It went on like that until a guy from our group came back from the cafeteria with a weird smile on his face. Upon someone asking what flavor he got, he replied "Nothing."
"Nothing."
I'll never forget that moment. It was as close to Zen as I'll ever be in my life. He we were, racing forward seeking the answer by adding 1+2, then 1+3, then 2+3, and for a time 1+2+3. And he comes back with a possible answer of 0. It was a powerful example of lateral thinking that probably taught me a more useful lesson than a full year of AP European History.
We all instantly put down our Pups, gave the Newton of slushies a jealous look wishing we'd thought of it, and went up to try our own.
I wish I could tell you that that Pup of nothingness was like eating enlightenment. That its sweet flavor was the joy of minimalism in syrup form, filling my stomach and soul with goodness. But it wasn't. It was awful. Imagine what you think unflavored ice that has been sitting in a machine for a week would taste like and that's about it.
Doesn't mean it wasn't a terrific idea.
posted by Roark_8 at 10:16 AM
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