the disinclination towards dementia

 As I zoom well-beyond my half-century point of wander, over time, as a background sorta thing, I worried that my brain would hurtle towards being lost. 

 I never cared for crossword puzzles, which for years were touted as a way for older people to avoid losing mental agility, so I knew I’d never take them up later in life.  And there are now companies selling apps and stuff that are likewise purporting to keep old people’s minds sharp (though my wife and children have the newest whatevers, I still refuse to own a smart phone myself and carry a hand-me-down 2003 flip phone that was once Jordan’s, so apps are not-applicable for me).

 Recently on NPR (my most commonplace source of information) studies had found all of this to be bogus, neither crossword puzzles nor fancy games, so that was a bit of a relief.  But really, what I thought for a long time was that I may be keeping my synapsis in check because I spend my life constantly trying to solve the mystery of people, of interactions and intentions and the driving force behind other brilliant minds.

 And to that end, since these are my preferred playthings, it makes me quite giddy when unexpectedly someone cares enough to throw some Sherlock-Holmes-level curve ball my way.  Makes me just smile and laugh quietly in my office because it is something new, something unexpected, something difficult to trace and dissect.   A fun puzzle.

 Thrilling, really.  A gift from the gods.

 From my American Heritage hardback dictionary that lives beside my hardback equally-ancient thesaurus on my workplace shelves:

 Zippy, adj – Full of energy, lively.

Beta, noun (so many possibilities):  1 The second letter of the Greek alphabet; 2 second item in series or system of classification; 3 Mathematical measure of the sensitivity of the rates of return on the market; 4 <i> Phys.</i> A beta particle; 5 <i> Chem.</i> a. The second position from a designated carbon atom in an organic molecule at which an atom or a radical may be substituted; b. An isometric variation of a chemical compound.

 Other interesting facts, vaguely recalled from a different NPR program, are that one quite northern version of a back-capped chickadee will burrow itself into the cracks of a tree or log, often with other birds, and essentially shut down its body temperature dramatically to 14 degrees Fahrenheit and essentially hibernate to ride out a hard winter’s night.  Other times, it may simply perch contentedly upon an outstretched palm and contemplate the hand that attempts feed it.

 Which is to say, “Thank you for this gift upon a Friday”