What’s Your IGK?

Other people have bucket lists. I have an IGK.

I Gotta Know.

I have no desire to parachute into Machu Picchu, race gondolas, dig for jade in upper Mongolia, visit Fort Knox, or kiss Paul McCartney.

On the McCarney note, I did something better: kissed a sting ray in Grand Cayman. Legend says that nothing bad can happen to me for seven years because I sticky lipped the ray. Rayette, as it was a female. I doubt that would have happened I’d smooched McCartney. I’ll never know. No worries.

Which brings me to what I do want to know. Why planes don’t fly backward. How a thermos knows to keep soup hot, not cold. Why internal combustion can’t work with water instead of ooze from Cretaceous dinosaur and fern landfills.

Why wallpaper? If a goldfish is by itself in a bowl, does it get lonely? If you dig deep enough in the desert, will you find water?

I have many more on my list. I forgot where I put it, though.


N. R. G.

Why is science fiction so bipolar?

The future is either utopian or dystopian. I could lament on this or make a change.

We cannot do anything about the past.

Or can we?

Take a walk on the beach. Pick up anything that doesn’t belong pushed to the shore by its partner waves.

How much are you carrying after a quarter mile? (You’d better do at least a quarter mile or why walk?)

Send pictures of what you’ve collected. Tag it. Send it back to its owner, if you can. Styrofoam? Dow-Chemical Company. Only the term “Styrofoam cup” is incorrect as it’s polystyrene that’s the culprit.

For heaven – and earth’s – sake. Get a reusable cup! I don’t care what it’s made of, or from. As long as you wash it and use it again.

After all, it takes a lot more N R G to wash and dry something than to toss it once.