I've discovered a new affinity for the world of mathematics, at least at its most elementary level. I think I might want to change my occupation to mathematician. I started reading the Grapes of Math by Alex Bellos and plowed through a third of it before I had to return it to the library with my usual late fee. I got stuck on logarithms.
I suppose I can consult my brothers, who are world-class mathematicians, physicists, computer scientists, astronomers, and welders. They orbit the earth in homemade spaceships. They've got to be able to show a girl how to make sense of logarithms. But their intelligence supersedes my most basic understanding. It would be like Ray Dalio and Ben Bernanke trying to teach economics to a a pair of underwear. Of the three of us, I am the odd one out. If they are Sign and Cosign, I am Abednego. Or if they're Shadrack and Meshack, I'm Tangent. We are a threesome that got mixed up with some other threesome from some other analogy.
They are smart, successful, famous and wealthy, and I am a hiker and a blogger. And we know what they always say, because they, the great mythical pronoun, say it over and over again: those who can't do, teach. Those who can't teach, teach gym. Those who can't even teach gym, blog.
Catfish in the Mud
I went to Namibia and took a tour of Sossusvlei, where it hasn't rained in 6 years. The river is completely dried up. My guide told me that even in the six-year drought, catfish are hibernating deep down in the mud and will surface again when the rains come back and restore life to the desert. I didn't believe him at first, like I didn't believe in the mysterious fairy circles on the dunes. But now the idea of catfish in the mud has become a metaphor for the things trapped on the inside and down below that wait for the rains to give them some vigor and life. Catfish in the Mud is a pretty standard millennial blog in which I say mostly nothing in about 300 words.