Showers, Time Machines, and Jungle Rot

I’ve had several ideas to blog about (is blog a verb?), but nothing really growing deep roots. Here’s the charcuterie version.

Recently, I heard a speech about how shower time can spark deep thoughts. There’s a whole science behind it. Lack of external stimulus, singularity of focus, soothing jets of water–all these can contribute to thinking that’s far different from our norm. A surprising number of articles have been written about shower thinking. Here’s one, a satirical view of random ideas of shower inspiration.

The quick hitters about life remind me of comedians like Seinfeld or Nate Bargatze, folks who do observational humor pointing out the foibles and inconsistencies and minor mysteries of daily life. In comedy theory, it’s called Horatian Satire, though comedians like Chappelle or Carlin can get pretty gritty. We call that Juvenalian Satire. Whatever you call it, the subject doesn’t exactly translate to a blog post.

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I’m a big fan of time travel movies and TV shows. Quantum Leap (the original) is one of my faves. Movies like Peggy Sue Got Married (“Don’t eat the red ones!”) or About Time are funny but also thought-provoking. Consider Marty McFly and his journeys both backward and forward. Minor decisions cause major changes. The movies raise the what-ifs we all consider. What if I didn’t move cross-country? What if I took that job offer when I was 25? What if I left ten minutes earlier or later that morning? Questions without answers. “A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma,” as Churchill said.

Then there are the frothy versions exploring time bending like Bill and Ted or Groundhog Day or Click. On the other end of the spectrum are heavier hitters like Frequency or Triangle or Butterfly Effect. Then, you got your whole romantic versions of time travel. Too many to list but who doesn’t wonder how life might have been if you had broken up or stayed with that one?

H.G. Wells is maybe the most celebrated in history, but he’s just one voice in a vast stadium of folks providing some twist on the genre. The list goes on and on. Time travel or time bending movies and TV shows are an enormous category. Though I’m intrigued, I don’t have a particular focus for a blog, at least not right now. You can comment below on your fave, if you have one.

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Last week, Melanie and I spent a few days in Fredericksburg, Texas. It’s a touristy place, Texas wine country, lots of shops. Melanie compared it to Lake Geneva without the lake.

Fredericksburg also houses the National Museum of the Pacific War. If you like history, you’d love this place. The museum a vast collection of artifacts (guns, uniforms, documents), audio and visual displays that delve deeply into every battle as well as the mundane day to day lives of those who fought in the Pacific during WWII.

For example, we paused and listened to recollections of soldiers who set up makeshift quarters on remote islands. Cut off from most supplies, their shoes and socks wore out. Always on alert, they had not the luxury to remove the tatters of clothing, so their feet were ravaged with Jungle Rot (aka, Trench Foot), though the polite name is Tropical Ulcer. Sure, you can call it that, but Jungle Rot is far more descriptive. Everyone had it. Uncle Sam knew it, so the government sent out helpful posters like this one. No problem, Sammy. Just keep my feet clean and dry in a tropical setting where removing my shoes and socks might get me killed.

We also saw a B-25 like the one used in Doolittle’s Raid on Toyko in June of 1942. It’s a massive bomber surrounded by text and artifacts used by the airmen who carried out the mission. We paused and reflected on the incredible difficulty and courage mustered by the 80 men who participated. The sixteen crews knew they had no chance to return to a base or the aircraft carrier where they took off. Most crews crash-landed in China and were saved, though four died after Japanese capture.

Aisle after aisle re-tells the stories of lives ended and saved, battles won and lost, the impact of WWII on civilians and industries all over the world. After a few hours, we reached a point in the museum where our brains were overloaded with information. You can only consume so much before your hippocampus screams, “No mas.” We reached that point and headed out for sunshine and a beverage.

Again, too much to parse, too many stories to choose a single thread.

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I could promote my new book again. But that seems desperate and nagging. I don’t want to be the six-year-old tugging on your sleeve. Buy the book; you’ll like it.

My takeaway from this exercise in blogging futility is simple. I need more showers. Longer showers. Hotter water. Maybe in the dark. But more showers for sure.