Book of Marvels
Saturday, July 14, 2007
 
Out of Nowhere

I was sitting here finishing up the day's work when I realized I was singing a favorite song from my youth-- probably of that particular youthfulness at the right, when I was showing off my skirt to my cousin Steven. It was "Winter Wonderland," done now in my dotage with fancy jazz stylings.

I sang the part where the song goes:

In the meadow we can build a snowman
and pretend that he is Parson Brown...

But when I was a kid, I had no idea what a parson was-- never encountered the word, I think, until I started reading about the adventures of British children. So I always sang it this way:

In the meadow we can build a snowman
and pretend that he is parched and brown...

It didn't make any sense to me then, either-- how could a snowman be parched and brown? He'd melt first. But, still, I have to admire my little-girl brain trying to work some kind of logic into the lyrics, inserting the only words that seemed to fit the sounds. I'm probably--we're all probably--still doing this now, encountering things that we don't understand and finding that our subconscious brains scramble to find a solution, even if it doesn't work.

I don't know if anyone still reads this blog since I've gotten so lazy about posting, but I thought it would be fun to hear other people's examples of this kind of stuff from their childhood.

So spill.
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Location: Cleveland, Ohio, United States

I'm a fiction writer, essayist, author of the memoir "Stalking the Divine" and co-author, with Debbie Rodriguez, of "The Kabul Beauty School: An American Woman Goes Beyond the Veil," published by Random House in April 2007. I'm also a general interest freelance writer who's been published in The New York Times, Salon, Discover, New Scientist, American Archeology, Utne, O, Poets & Writers, Tin House, and many more. In the Book of Marvels, I write about all the things that intrigue me without fretting over who wants to buy. I borrowed the title from one of my favorite childhood books. It seems an apt--if daringly optimistic--metaphor for both life in general and a life of writing. Welcome-- and feel free to comment.

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