The boiling frog syndrome: If you throw a frog into a pot of boiling hot water, it will jump out. But if you place a frog in warmish water and gradually turn up the heat, it will boil to death.
I was playing pool with my brother the other day, and in the background (not by choice) was an episode of Oprah. I don’t know what sort of sappy nonsense Oprah normally features on her sorry excuse for a talk show, but this particular episode was about people who are terminally ill. If you think about it, life itself is a terminal illness, because we are all going to die. There is nothing special about death. There is only one feature that distinguishes terminally ill patients from the rest of the population. The terminally ill are unique because they know approximately when they are going to die, and that approximation is usually soon. In light of that information, their entire life perspective changes dramatically. That is what this show was about.
I wasn’t paying close attention, but most of the guests seemed, not necessarily happy, but without regret. They were at terms with their imminent death. In coming to terms with this, they had to reprioritize everything in life they thought important. The underlying theme seemed to be the reprioritization of genuine happiness over ostensible happiness. In other words, grass was greener and food tasted better, whereas material possessions were not important at all. Everything we usually take for granted had a new appreciation attached to it. The things that were supposed to matter actually mattered.
In terms of my introductory quote, the terminally ill are the frogs placed in a vat of boiling water. They immediately feel the heat and act accordingly. The rest of us are frogs in warmish water with the heat slowly rising. We know we’re going to die, but we don’t appreciate it until old age, so we essentially choose to ignore it. We are all frogs… coasting indifferently through life… until we boil to death…
To tell the truth, the whole reason I got to thinking about this is because I haven’t been able to work up the balls to ask a girl to hang out. It’s funny, because I usually write girls off as disposable pleasures as opposed to meaningful pursuits, make fun of them without reservation, and couldn’t care less what they think of me. More often than not, that would lead to flirting and sex. But with this one, she’s not a stupid whore. Quite to the contrary, she’s incredibly smart, her unpredictable humor is born from her enormous wit, and she doesn’t know how beautiful she is. And she has a heart of gold. And morals. That’s the kind of thing that gets me tongue tied. Hot slut? They’re a dime a dozen. Funny girl who can hold up her end of a conversation? Ohhhhhh baby.