Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc

God is Love.
Love is Blind.
Stevie Wonder is Blind.
Therefore:
Stevie Wonder is God.

For all you non-dead-language-speakers, post hoc ergo propter hoc is Latin for: after this, therefore because of this.  It sounds like it’s one of those old timey proverbs that seem to make sense, especially since it’s in Latin.  The problem is that it’s almost never true in real life.

Here’s an example:  My roommate and I are both actors.  Last spring, we auditioned together for a show.  Neither of us were cast in the show.  So since then, we’ve said, “we better not audition together because neither of us will get the job.”

This is the equation for a lot of superstitions.  I was wearing this tie when I interviewed for the job I got, so this is my lucky tie.  I ordered this sandwich before we won the big game, so I should eat that sandwich before every game.  I paid down all my debt before the New Year, and I ended up making a lot of money that year, so I just need to pay off all my debts and I’ll have a prosperous year.

I’m bringing it up because it’s popped up in my life a few times lately and I thought it might do me some good to let the universe know, via blog, that I can take the hint.

It makes you feel good.  It makes you feel like you’re working toward something.  You feel productive.  But it can distract you from the really important stuff too.  As long as my roommate and I don’t audition together, I have a shot at getting cast.  OR, I could go to my voice lessons, and work on my scripts and be prepared for the audition.  Asking my roommate what time he’s auditioning is easier.

My girlfriend has been marveling at her tan legs lately.  I like her tan legs too, don’t get me wrong, but it’s possible that I just like her legs, but I digress.  She’s convinced that exposure to the sun will give her wrinkles, so she’s particularly careful about letting the sun shine on her face and hands.  That’s the other side of post hoc ergo propter hoc:  If I know this came after that, and If I want to avoid that from happening, I should avoid this.

So you start noticing overweight people eating ice cream and you cross that off the list.  Some friends got married, then divorced a few years later?  Cross marriage off the list.  You tell some friends that you were up for a big promotion at work, and you don’t get it.  I guess talking to your friends is off the list, too.  Pretty soon, you’re not living your own life.  You’re afraid of everything.

I remember back to the week I had a chance to go to Tibet.  The memory that sticks with me is how our guide, a man whose name escapes me, would smile like a Cheshire cat.  It would beam throughout our tour bus.  He had wrinkles, but his wrinkles told a story of happiness and joyful times in the company of friends.  And if that’s what I have to look forward to as I get older, I say bring on the wrinkles.  I’d venture to guess that, for the most part, it’s not exclusively the sun or the lack of skin cream that gives us wrinkles, it’s just a natural part of getting older.  But wouldn’t you want the lines on your face to be caused by joy rather than worry?  In truth, I’d rather have the inevitable wrinkles on my face come from living life to it’s fullest, instead of from trying desperately to to stop dead in my tracks before crossing some line drawn by someone else.

As I’ve been tempted to get myself into better shape, I looked online at diet pills recently.  Not my finest moments, but definitely frought with post hoc ergo propter Hoc mentality.  “Jimbo used to be this big, but after taking these pills he dropped 10 pant sizes!”  It made me think back to my Alcohol Awareness class that they make all the servers take.  The only thing that can sober a person up is time.  You have to put in the time.

So I’m going to the gym.  I’m putting in the time and hoping that in a little while I’ll see the fruits of my labor.  It’s frustrating for now, but hopefully that’ll go away soon.  I stepped on the scale today and saw that I gained weight.  For now, I’m going to believe that since muscles weigh more than fat, I’m packing on the muscles and the fat will melt off eventually.  But who knows?

Family Values

Bristol Palin, daughter of Sarah Palin, had a child out of wedlock.

Sarah Palin thinks abstinence-only sex ed works.

Hm.

Harrison Bachmann, son of Michele Bachmann, has joined the Teach for America program, which is a member of the Americorps program.

Michelle Bachman was quoted as saying: “It’s paying people to do work on behalf of government. There are provisions for what I would call re-education camps for young people, where young people get trained in the philosophy the government puts forward and then they have to go work in these politically correct forums.  As a parent, I would have a very, very difficult time seeing my children do this.”

Well, my heart goes out to Rep. Bachmann during what is, I’m sure, a very trying time for her and her family.  Re-education camps, as we know from our Vietnam War unit in high school history class, were camps where captured south Vietnamese (pro-democracy) former military were brought to be tortured at the end of the Vietnam war.  There, the north Vietnamese soldiers would take their revenge, claiming that this would indoctrinate the south Vietnamese prisoners into the Communist ideology.  Let’s hope that that’s not what Rep. Bachmann meant when she compared re-education camps to progams like Teach for America.

We’ve all heard it, the Republican party is the “family values” party.  I respect that.  I have family values and I live family values.  So what does it say when the children of these family values hardliners don’t share their parents’ family values?

Bill Clinton named Honorary Asian of the Year

I would just like to take this opportunity to congratulate the husband of Secretary of State Hillary Clinton on a job well done in North Korea.  Seriously, most Asians (or Asian Americans, for that matter), wouldn’t go to North Korea if Kim Jong Il himself was holding a gun to their heads.  But you, sir, are a class act.

Ok, so maybe the Dear Leader just wanted some legitimacy.  What with the “nuclear missile tests” (as I write this phrase I’m actually making the quote-unquote gesture with my fingers) that would earn him a C+ in 8th grade science, from the dramatic turns in the American media from Team America: World Police to the Daily Show, I could see how a grip and grin with Bubba might bump him up a rung.  But then again, Kim really had nowhere to go but up.

What concerns me is the precedent.  Next thing we know, off-the-res dictators will be pushing down old ladies and demanding an autographed picture of Kathy Griffin.  Where do we draw the line, America?

The Automatic Door

Paolo stood on the sidewalk in front of the Walgreens and let loose a big sigh.

“Come on,”  he muttered to himself, squinting his eyes so he could see the “Automatic Door” sticker.  If he had fingers, he would cross them, but elephants don’t usually have fingers.  He wracked his brain for something to cross.  He briefly considered getting a rabbit’s foot, but found that kind of thing to be a bit morbid.

He lifted his front foot and inhaled deeply.

“Here we go.”  He stepped down on the “enter” mat.

Nothing.

He squinted extra hard, double checking to see if the door had opened.  No dice.  Even with his glasses on, he had to squint most of the time to see clearly.  This, he thought, hurt his chances with the ladies.  None of the hot elephant chicks want to be with an elephant who is squinting all the time.  But today, he couldn’t even get the automatic door to notice him.

“I guess I don’t really need to replace my electrolytes.”  He thought with a sigh.  “I’ll just get some water at home.”

Paolo was an avid yogi, prefering to take the morning hot yoga class taught by his friend, Lauren.  He was usually the only male in the class, which, he thought, made for good odds.  Today, he was just glad he didn’t trip on his trunk like he did 2 weeks ago.  Hopefully people had forgotten about that whole episode by now.

“At least they noticed,”  He thought, smiling briefly.  But this isn’t necessarily the kind of attention he wanted.

Paolo had a long history of going unnoticed.  He once sat at a table in the local diner for nearly 2 hours before a the server realized she hadn’t greeted him.  He figured as long as they were cool with him sitting there without buying anything, he could use the break.  When he as a senior in high school, he mustered up the courage to sing at the annual talent show, but they wouldn’t let him onstage because they didn’t think he was a student at that school (even though the MC sat in front of him in homeroom for the previous 3 years).  He once convinced himself for three months that he was Naldo’s imaginary friend, instead of just his best friend, since Naldo seemed to be the only one who really noticed Paolo.

Naldo was the kind of elephant that most people noticed.  The females swooned over his dashing good looks, not to mention his being named firefighter of the year 2 years in a row.  Paolo appreciated all the things that Naldo did for him, from taking him along when the other firefighters wanted to cruise up and down Hennepin Av and run the siren, to going down with Paolo to the coffee shop on the corner to watch the cute brunette Paolo had a crush on make espresso.

“You should really just go introduce yourself.”  Naldo once told him.

“I have,” Paolo replied, “five or six times.”

Paolo could hear the phone ringing in his apartment when he walked up to the door.  He fumbled with his keys a bit, reminding himself that he wanted to paint them different colors so he didn’t have to squint so hard to tell them apart.  He made it in just in time to catch the call from Lauren.

“You didn’t stay after class.”  She scolded.

“Yeah, I went down to The Wal to get a drink, but, you know, the door.”  He explained.  “And I didn’t want to wait for someone else to come by just so I could walk in behind them.”

“That thing is weird.  They should really fix it or something.  You and Naldo having lunch?”  She asked.

“We were just gonna go down to the coffee shop, I’m gonna hop in the shower really quick.  You wanna come?”

“To stare at the espresso girl?  Sure, I’ll meet you in front of your building in a bit.”

As they strolled into the coffee shop, Paolo trying his best to look casual, they ordered their drinks and scoped out a table with a clear view of the espresso machine.

“Dude, just go over there.”  Nudged Naldo.

“She looks good today.” Paolo said, squinting.

“I bet she knows who you are,” Lauren chimed in, “you guys are in here enough.”

“She probably has some stupid nickname for me like ’squinty’ or ‘goggles’.”  Paolo groaned.

Just then, the espresso girl’s angelic voice rang out, “One soy mocha, One light and sweet, and a caramel hot chocolate!”

Paolo popped up, sucked in his gut and took a step before noticing that Naldo and Lauren were still sitting down.  “You guys comin’?”

“Actually,” Naldo said with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m pretty comfy.  How ’bout you, Lauren?”

“Yeah, did they reupholster these chairs?  This is NICE.”  Replied Lauren.

“GUYS!” Paolo whispered urgently through his teeth, his gut returning to its usual state.

“You mind?  Our drinks are getting cold.” Naldo said with a smile.

“This is being a good wingman?”  Paolo said, shaking his head.  “Fine.”

As he turned and sucked in his gut for a second time, he thought, “You’re just a regular guy, getting his hot chocolate.  A very manly and sexy hot chocolate.  With caramel.  Cuz you’re sweet.  You’re a sweet chocolate drinking god among elephants.  You are the Ganesh of hot chocolate.”

He strolled up to the counter, extra casually.  He hovered his trunk above the three drinks, finally locating his.  He picked the three up and carefully headed back to the table, not squinting enough to see the smile on the espresso girl’s face.

“I gave you an extra pump of caramel, I hope you don’t–”

“Huh?” Paolo said, startled, and turning his head just enough to pour some hot chocolate down the front of his shirt.

“Oh, my god,” exclaimed the espresso girl, grabbing a rag.

Naldo and Lauren, who had been watching on the edge of their newly reupholstered seats, were by Paolo’s side in no time.  They took their drinks from his trunk, and before the espresso girl could dab the chocolate from his shirt, Paolo had beelined it to the bathroom.

“I’m really sorry.”  Apologized the espresso girl.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Lauren soothed, “He didn’t really like that shirt anyway.”  She grabbed the rag from the espresso girl and wiped up a few drops of caramel hot chocolate from the floor.

Naldo decided it was time to take a chance.  “That’s our friend–”

“His name’s Paolo, right?” The espresso girl interrupted, “yeah, you guys are in here a lot.  He’s always caramel hot chocolate, and you’re, uh, cream and sugar, right? “

“Light and sweet, that’s my drink.” Naldo confirmed.  “You know, he’s usually not this clumsy.  But something happens to him when he’s around girls he’s attracted to.”

“Really?” She asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

‘Yeah, he didn’t think you even knew his name.” Replied Naldo.

“That would explain why he keeps introducing himself.  I thought he kept forgetting.”  She said with a smile.

“That’d be ironic.”  Naldo quipped.  As they both chuckled lightly, Paolo emerged from the bathroom.  He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the cute espresso girl sharing a laugh with his best friend.

“Oh, hey, dude,” Naldo began.

Before Naldo could say another word, Paolo was out the door and almost halfway down the block, taunted by the Walgreens’ unflinching automatic door as he passed.  Naldo hurried after him, managing to catch up with him just as he shut the door to his apartment, nearly catching Naldo’s trunk in the door.  Naldo heard Paolo lock the door, but continued to call after him.

“Dude!  She knows your name!  I think she likes you!”

Naldo put his big flat ear to the door and heard Paolo sobbing somewhere on the other side.  Sobbing so loud, in fact, that Paolo didn’t hear Naldo’s attempts at consolation.

Three days had passed and 27 missed calls registered on Paolo’s cell phone.  Naldo, determined to set things right with his friend, was slumped against the wall in the hallway of Paolo’s building drifting in and out of sleep.  Next to him was Lauren, curled up in a ball, wheezing with every sleepy breath, her throat sore from trying to reason with Paolo’s apartment door.  Paolo, with three days’ stubble on his tiny elephat chin, sat weary-eyed against the wall in his apartment amid piles of Reese’s wrappers, several empty jars of crunchy Jif, and even an old Fedex box that used to be full of packing peanuts.  His nearly useless eyes were tired and his cheeks were encrusted with dried tears.  Then through the open window, came a waft of air.

Coffee.

The coffee shop had opened with the first rays of sunshine peeking through Paolo’s windows.  The smell was so intoxicating that the thoughts he had been wallowing in for three days, the “backstabbing best friend” and the “he -who has everything- couldn’t let me have just one thing” thoughts, nearly disappeared from his mind.  The sunlight slapped him across the face and woke him up from his trance.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  Coffee.  The smell connected him to thoughts of love.  And when he opened his eyes, his own reflection was staring back at him from the TV across the room.  Paolo squinted at his reflection and the reflection squinted back.

“What are you doing?”  The reflection said with judgment in its voice.

“Having a pity party, I guess.”  Paolo replied.

“Well, sure, you’ve always been the guy that’s rolled over and taken it from everybody else.”  The reflection declared.  “Why should this be any different?”

“I just needed a couple days to… I dunno.”  Paolo tried, running out of steam.

“The difference between you and a doormat,” the reflection hammered away, “is that a doormat can’t get up and walk away.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Time to get up off the mat, there, buckaroo.”

“Huh?”

“The only thing keeping you here is you.”  The reflection waxed.  “I think some coffee could do you some good.”

Paolo knew his reflection was right.  For a brief moment, he pondered whether or not he had just been conversing with his own blurry reflection.  Then the moment passed and he knew what he wanted to do.

He inhaled deeply.

Naldo woke up, startled by Paolo’s door closing, and he finally oriented himself in time to see Paolo’s hind legs stepping out the front door to the building.  He shook Lauren awake and they followed the determined pachyderm down the street.  Paolo was determined to get the espresso girl to notice him.  He was determined to make an impression.  He was determined that he would receive one of the most spectacular beat-downs at the hands of Love, but that was the risk he was willing to take to be happy.  Paolo was so determined, in fact, that he didn’t notice that as he passed the Walgreens on his way to his destiny, the automatic door opened.