This weirdness didn’t happen recently. In fact, this weirdness might just be the first time I realized there was something going on.
When I was young, I was a swimmer. I won’t go into how it was determined that I would be a swimmer instead of a diver (it’s a funny story, when/if told correctly) but the facts include that when my father and Robert J Hacunda’s father where in a position of local power, they masterminded a high school that included a swimming pool. And Robbie and I were on the swim teams from then on.
Now, the thing about swimming is that you spend a lot of time barefooted. And you spend some percentage of that barefooted time walking around on wet, tiled floors. Wet , warm tiled floors. Wet, warm, tiled floors that everybody else is also walking around on. It’s like group sex! You’re walking in everything that everyone has walked in. You’re not allowed to be surprised if you pick up an FTD (Foot Transmitted Disease).
I’m going to digress for a second, and you’ll catch the drift in a minute (I say that even though you’ll read in a second what it will take me more than a minute to type.) They used to advertise this stuff for athletes foot called Lotrimin (probably still do but I don’t go there) Ok fine.
They used to advertise this stuff for the pain and itch of “Jock Itch” called Gynolotrimin.
Did no one at the factory ask, WHY? Because this sounds like either you got or you gave this condition from sticking your foot into someone’s crotch, or someone’s foot into your crotch! (apparently, they eventually heard it for themselves, because they don’t call it that anymore.)
So the analogy to sexually transmitted foot disease is not so far afield in the first place.
I picked up a disease. I had what they called a Planters wart. It was right behind the ball of my right foot.
Hey, boys are gross, I get that. But, and this was probably before I discovered masturbation, but did I ever enjoy flicking that bean on the bottom of my foot! It was as if it was connected to a nerve that ran all the way up to the top of my scalp and then ran down the sides of my body like vibrating hot fudge!
Every night, before I would go to sleep I would be rubbin that nubbin.
This went on for some number of years. And then one morning, I woke up and it was gone. GONE as in “It was never there!” no mark, no scar no scab no interruption where there was, just last night a wart eruption. GONE.
I can still feel where it was, sense memory perhaps, like someone who can feel where their foot had been before they lost it to any number of the things that can take your foot away. (A surprisingly high number when you stop to think about it!)
I knew right then and there that there was something . I didn’t know if it was right or it was wrong, but I knew it was something. And so I did in my preadolescent mind what you always do with such information. I stored it away in the “Duality” file of logical inconsistencies we all ignore.
I think we all do, anyway. You do, right?
This is like the bit about the stand up comic. If you do then it’s no big deal, but if you don’t then you’re like “That makes you the weird one!”
I think this story is here to explain to you (those of you who DO) how and why. And once we figure out what exactly fire is, then we can learn how to use it to our advantage. To bring light into the darkness.