One of my favorite traits about senior citizens is the inability to internalize their thoughts. The other night I was at the grocery story and it was very busy. An older man was sitting on his Rascal (you know, the little motorized carts for senior citizens that are usually monopolized by the obese) trying to maneuver through the store. Although I couldn't decipher his exact words, he was muttering out loud, undoubtedly something about how irresponsible and inconsiderate young people are these days. Finally, he lost all patience, backed his Rascal into me, and headed down a separate isle, mumbling as he left. This is my favorite thing about it - they don't want to be outright rude, yet at the same time they can't hold it in any longer - hence the low volume muttering and grumbling.
Now, onto the point of my rambling. Inside our brain, between the Basal Ganglia and the Hippocampus, is a very important structure known as the Thalamus. The purpose of the Thalamus is to serve as a filter between the brain and the mouth. Wow, for as early as it is this morning I am exceptionally full of crap. Anyway, this filter keeps comments we should never say in public safely internalized in our brain. As we get older, this filter eventually wears out and becomes useless. This is the main reason why old people are never afraid to tell you that your lawn needs to be mowed or that you look inappropriate in that skirt. It's not their fault, they are physiologically unable to keep their thoughts, opinions and frustrations inside. What does this have to do with me you ask? Well, several years ago I was playing in a basketball game and was hit in the head by an elbow. I'm fairly certain that this particular blow to the head seriously damaged my Thalamus. You know the sirens that go off in your head when you're about to say something you shouldn't? I still hear those but, no matter how hard I try, I still can't hold in my comments. To help you understand just think about those little water-filled rubber tubes they had when we were kids that, as much as you tried to hold onto, they still slipped easily through your fingers. That's how my Thalamus functions.
Let me give you an example. Two houses away live three children who, to quote the Hogwarts Potionmaster Severus Snape, are insufferable know-it-alls. Don't get me wrong, I love the kids, but every time I am outside working on a project they stop by to tell me I'm doing it wrong. When I was laying sod the oldest walked over and announced that I'd never be able to get my sod to take root because I have "grade two soil." He was only 9 years old at the time. Now whenever he walks past my house I ask him if he'd like to have a picnic on my lush, green grass. To the side of my house is a bike track and one day he wasn't letting the younger kids play on it. I tried talking to him rationally but he talked back and argued with me over everything I said. I started to tell him, "If you don't let them ride on the track I'm going to come down there and tear out the track" but he only let me get as far as "I'm going to come down there and..." when he interrupted me with, "you can't touch me!!!" The sirens immediately screamed in my head, lights were flashing but I didn't care. The rebuttal that rushed into my head was too good not to throw back at him. I couldn't help myself so I yelled back, "then I'll go down the street and touch your mom."
Yes, my filter is definitely broken.
No comments:
Post a Comment