We Wonder and We Ponder, Therefore We are.

(My apologies to Rene Descartes who famously said: "I think, therefore I am").

There are really just a few certain astounding things to focus our thoughts on without hurting our brains. Yet, they may more than enhance our understanding of our world, or at least make us think a little bit more, one simple thought at a time, without devoting years in academia for a philosophy degree or a doctorate in physics. Yes, it is possible to gain knowledge by merely pondering or asking questions.  It is in fact true that if we never stop asking or wondering about one little thing or even a lot of things we continue to make the most out of life, no matter how dreary, how unexciting or how ordinary our place is in the one little corner we find ourselves in. To wonder and then to ponder is a gift that disallows us to squander  moments of physical inactivity or when all that we have are our thoughts to keep us company. 

The sense of wonder is the one privilege only we are allowed to enjoy. No other living thing gets to do that; it's free too!  Having said that, we must however not underestimate what other living things get to do that leave us feeling inadequate.

Take the humble egg.  Yes, the very same ones we take for granted - packed by the dozens in Styrofoam packaging or molded cardboard crates at the grocery store, or the ones on a nest between the crook of a tree branch, on the ground with matching blotches that mimic the surrounding stony background, or on small pouches hanging by a drooping branch, weaved from blades of grass, or in tiny cups of dirt and bird saliva along cave walls or under bridges. The egg in  thousands of varieties and shapes laid by the thousand species of birds around the world is one extraordinary life support structure that defies the best technology man had ever created.

It was the egg and the birds that laid them that led Charles Darwin to ask first one small question then followed by a flurry of more query that led him from the Galapagos to a worldwide understanding of the tenacity of all living creatures so that life as we know it today continues to flourish despite all the hardships  and natural calamities over eons of time. That is because every living creature has this one quality, the unique attribute endowed to every species to insure their survival - the ability to adapt.

The egg epitomizes just one of  the countless wonders in nature. From what it stands for generally as a biological definition, no embryo may develop without it. As it relates to birds only, it holds a profound complexity like no other in nature, yet it was because of eggs and the ease that they can be gathered that gave our early ancestors easy access to protein without having to chase or go after elusive prey that fought back or posed potential  physical harm. It was the egg  or the need for it that led to domesticating certain birds (chickens and ducks) that served our ancestors so effectively when they settled down to farm the lands that led to agriculture that led to the foundation for civilization to develop. 

Eggs are incubated but they are also incubators for the production of some of the most critical vaccines for humans - the pivotal moment that was the beginning of modern health care. There is more I would like to talk about the humble egg but let's set that aside for now.

Then we have mathematics. We did not invent it. Whether we are here or not mathematics  existed, does exist and will continue to exist. We merely discovered it. We did  invent the numbering system like 1 or 2 and all the numbers beyond them so that our ancestors knew the value of 1 deer + 1 deer as 2 animals they saw or caught. But whether early man was there or not, two deer always meant that they were twice as many as one, the same way that one stone plus another made two, when our ancestors began to ponder the nature of numbers. Numbers don't lie, however, we've now become good at manipulating them, such as in statistics or for fortune telling.

When the early cave dwellers realized that setting little rocks or marking notches on pieces of wood or bone, to make first use of numbers, the square root of 2 already existed, or that the diameter of any circle was and will always be its circumference divided by an odd looking number that begins as 3.1416 .... that is never ending nor exhibit a pattern. That number was already established as a universal scientific truth even from the time the first stars were created. Pythagoras merely discovered the theorem named after him but all three sides of right triangles did and will  always go by this relationship:  .

Then we have the unlikely forces of nature - Shapes. Yes indeed, engineers and scientists do consider shapes, geometric patterns and the mathematics that define them as forces of nature. Shapes, long before we even started to understand them, designed them, created versions of them, were there already for nature to use right from the very beginning of creation. We may wonder whether our physical world are what they are because they were shaped that way, or are shapes the way they are as nature forced them to become.

Bees have for hundreds of thousands of years been building their honeycomb beehives in geometric patterns of the hexagon. Unlike birds nests that come in all kinds of configurations and material, all species of bees use only beeswax in the one and only geometric pattern - that of the hexagon. Let's examine the hexagon for a minute, just to satisfy our curiosity as to why bees chose it. Whether as a flat pattern or in the shape of a tube (as in the beehive), it is the most efficient shape to cover an area or contain the optimum amount of volume with the least amount of material. Bees know to conserve energy and material and no other shape will suffice except for the hexagon. Six equilateral triangles put together will make a hexagon, each side of that triangle has the length equal to the radius of the circle that circumscribe the hexagon, with all the six corners of it resting along the circumference of the circle in six equal spaces. Got that? If that seemed somewhat complicated to you, guess how you feel now when it is all second nature to the bee. But it is not just bees that make hexagons. Even an inanimate phenomenon, like the weather, create hexagons in the form of snowflakes and make them so no two snowflakes are the same. They  make finger prints look ordinarily bland. Volcanic eruptions that are as predictably violent as they are chaotic produce lava formations as columnar basalt - as perfect hexagonal columns as if they were fashioned for an architectural project.

Back to my special fascination with the egg.  If proven true beyond any reasonable doubt - more likely than not as research seems to lead that way - that modern day birds descended from dinosaurs (whose fossilized eggs are common specimens) then the egg represents over 200 million years of a perfectly designed feature of adaptation. The platypus, a mammal, seems to think so as well, that even today when all its furry cousins have gone to one reproductive method of live birthing, this odd holdout still lays eggs.

Egg shapes vary according to the needs of the particular egg layer. Long distance flying birds have elongated eggs because their physiology demands a more streamlined body that influences the shape of their Fallopian tubes to be narrower while flightless birds like the ostrich or emu that are not constrained by a streamlined physique have spheroidal-shaped eggs, closer to a baseball than to a football (American football, that is). Birds metabolism is so high that their elevated body temperature is detrimental to the development of the embryo. The solution is the egg. Away from the inside of the bird's "womb", the egg's temperature is then regulated in the nest. Other birds are so highly adaptable as to regulate the rate of incubation of their eggs. A small species of bird in Europe regulate the incubation period of their eggs in such a way that they'd all hatch at a very narrow window of a week to ten days every spring in time for when a species of caterpillar develop in the area which, not surprisingly, occurs  and ends within 7-10 days. Birds are smarter than we give them credit for, surely undeserved of the reputation of having a "bird brain".

Speaking of brain, this is where we come in. It is where we excel. It is our insatiable desire to know that starts with wondering first, then we ponder what, why, and how that lead us to answers that lead to increase in knowledge that brought us to where we are today. We've done well. Very well indeed.

Unfortunately, technology has brought us to today. With its one singular side effect. It is making us lose the one gift that the Creator endowed us with. The gift to wonder. Once we lose that completely then we lose our humanity. Technology may be smart but it lacks the one thing that only we have. The ability to ponder the things around us; the ability to perceive those closest to us and to be mindful of them because outside of those for whom we care and those who care in return, we will have become as inanimate as a computer chip. If you think that is spoken in jest, try and observe young people today. They could be physically congregated as a group of three or a dozen but yet so invariably segregated, hunched over, lost to the world of a palm-size screen, oblivious to what goes on around them.

If we believe that we are creation's highest point then we must admit that the only thing that differentiates us from all other creatures is our ability to wonder and to ponder because those two are the precursors to why we search, which leads to knowledge that leads to understanding. Even if all of our pondering and wondering comes to nothing of significance, the ability to do them is still the greatest gift of all that no other living thing is able to do. So, cherish that thought and hope and pray for the day when everyone looks up and look around to rediscover the person sitting nearby and one to another.

P.S.


My fascination with the hexagon continues and here to prove a minor point. These photos are from an ongoing project that once finished will be detailed in  my woodworking blog. While I will take credit for this, my most recent elaborate project, I will be humbled by the bees because they do not have the benefit of advanced  geometry, nor the engineer's drawing instruments or the woodworking power tools. I planned this a lot; the bees just do it barely within an hour after their brief juvenile period and unerringly build a perfect beehive.

This is how six equilateral triangles make a hexagon, shown partially glued up

These will become hexagon plant/pot holders that will be attached to a rotatable hexagonal column planter.

The upper part of this planter will rotate on a Lazy Susan carousel (with ball bearings) so that plants around the column will have equal shot at the sun's rays by the window if regularly rotated from day to day.

Why I showed this is merely to serve as an example that when we wonder, then when we ponder, we sometimes find a way that leads to  that one "aha" moment.

The Moral of the Story is ...

Another episodes in America

1. Bernie is not a very good neighbor.  Actually, he is a bad one. And he lives in two different neighborhoods, where he is  equally bad at both places. He lives in one home that he alone owns. He is also a part time owner  of another home in the other neighborhood. His ex-wife lives there but because he pays half the mortgage and home maintenance, including half the household expenses, his ex tolerates the whole arrangement. And as you shall see, Bernie has good reasons to straddle two homes.

Bernie has this habit of borrowing tools and other items from his neighbors and conveniently forgets to return them. Both subdivisions are plagued equally by this man who a long time ago declared himself free of any qualms or even a  teeny-tiny bit of conscience.  If the neighbors don't ask for the items back after three months or so, he considers those his.

Bernie also has the resourcefulness of the top natural scavenger. On a scale of 1-10 he is right there at 7.5, where the Andean condor and Griffon vulture are at 10. You see, he has in his calendar the one day a month when residents in upscale neighborhoods  put on the curb for pick up any discarded items that are not classified trash or garbage, from old furniture to golf clubs and and sports equipment, luggage, etc. He has those days on his schedule where he goes around starting at mid morning till mid afternoon on those specified days. He would pick up stuff that he'd judged to be either in good shape (though old or dated) or still serviceable or reparable. Upscale neighborhoods have plenty of those. Bernie is not doing anything illegal and when he picks the items up nobody really mind or even care. He had become a frequent visitor to these neighborhoods that often the residents there would rate the items they were about to throw away according to what this unknown man would consider worthy. They'd joke among themselves on the likelihood (scale 1-10) the items they put up would be picked up by Bernie. That is the "disposable society" that America is sometimes known for.

Also on Bernie's calendar are the two special days a year. Twice a year at each subdivision he holds a garage sale. That would be four times total (at six months interval, twice at his own subdivision and twice at his ex-wife's). There the scavenged items would be laid out on the front yard like obedient  subjects held in court by Bernie whose aim is  to dispatch them  one by one to bargain hunters. Bernie would also include items he borrowed from neighbors as part of the merchandise.  There is one particular detail that Bernie is extremely careful with - he makes sure that the "borrowed" items from one neighborhood are sold only at the other and vice-versa. He keeps a good log to avoid that one  mishap - a neighbor spotting his tool or what-not on sale at Bernie's garage extravaganza.

Three months ago a new neighbor moved in to a home just four houses down from Bernie's. He went over to introduce himself and offered to help  the new resident unload. Bernie has one motive that is farthest away from altruism. He merely wants to see what he can catalog as potentially borrow-able from this new neighbor. The new neighbor introduced himself as Cornelius and seemed to prefer to be called that way. Three weeks after that Bernie was calling him Cory and Cornelius didn't seem to mind. By the fourth week Bernie had borrowed a couple of items, one of which was a unique looking ice pick.  It caught Bernie's eyes because not only was it something he had never seen before but the handle was intricately ornate with the Tiffany look  on it. Bernie is not shy about borrowing and although he'd been rebuffed many times in the past by wiser neighbors, which carried little effect on him, he was clearly surprised at how Cory so willingly let him borrow the ice pick.

Bernie had no intention of using the borrowed item. It went straight to one of the cabinet drawers in the kitchen.

That was three months ago and today he is holding his bi-annual garage sale at his ex-wife's front yard. He always makes sure he does it on a pleasant day for a guaranteed traffic. People would come from all over and among them are "professional" bargain hunters. Then there are those who just drops in on a whim. One such couple was Alice and Joe. It was Alice's idea to stop. This was Joe's day off and they were actually on their way to lunch. Joe initially wanted to stay in the car and wait until Alice was through rummaging  but in the last second he reluctantly got out and passed the time looking at what he believes are other people's junk.

One thing caught Joe's eyes almost immediately at the first table. It was Cory's ice pick. He picked it up, look at it closely, at which time Bernie came over and did his sales pitch. "That had been my favorite for years since I bought it but I thought someone, like you, will get to enjoy it as well. For twenty bucks, that's really a good deal". Bernie was flawless. Joe said he'd like to call his buddy and took out his cell phone from his pocket. At which time Bernie retreated to give Joe some space. He's thinking a good sale coming up. Joe held on to the ice pick and continued to look around.  Bernie was thinking this was a sure sale.

Twenty minutes later an unmarked police car parked a few yards away. Two detectives got out, shook hands with Joe and all three stepped towards Bernie. Joe, like the other two cops, was a homicide detective. Joe called them because he was off-duty and he needed them to make sure all three of them were there to listen to what Bernie had to say.

Joe said, "Sir, you do know this could be a stolen item?  Are you sure you own this from way back when, as you said".

Bernie always had a quick wit, "Yeah, but surely hundreds of this were sold over time.  Why pick on mine?"

"You are sure you've had this for years?"

"Absolutely! Why would I lie about one lousy ice pick".

"So you don't mind if we have this checked out?"

"Not at all, but you'll have to give me twenty bucks as deposit." Bernie was quick again.

One of the detectives took out a twenty from his wallet. The other produced an evidence plastic envelope. Sealed it and let Bernie sign on the flap.

One week later Bernie was arrested for the murder of a wealthy stock broker six months ago.  An ice pick was used when the victim apparently resisted during a robbery at his home. The stock broker owned a very rare ice pick that was among his collectibles that was missing. The intricate design was well documented in photographs of his private catalog. The ice pick from Bernie's yard sale may have been washed but not so thoroughly, apparently, because some almost microscopic specks of dried blood were trapped in the folds of the crevices of the ornate handle. The blood had the DNA of the victim.

Bernie quickly changed his story and switched the blame on Cornelius, his new neighbor. Cornelius was nowhere to be found. He abandoned his new home and an APB (All points bulletin) was issued for his arrest and a manhunt begun.

Bernie who spent days in jail was ultimately cleared. Cornelius, a career robber, as it turned out, remained at large. The idea that he's still out there made Bernie a virtual recluse, imprisoned in his own home, double locking his doors on days and barricading it at night, sleeping as little as possible.

The Moral of the story: (1) Return what you borrow; (2) Never sell to others what you borrow from your neighbors. (3) Karma - according to adherents of the philosophy - can be cumulative. (4) Do not denigrate garage sales or flea markets - sometimes there are hidden treasures there.

Speaking of flea markets I had personally found quality hand tools there that were not only rewarding to restore, they are still very much in use in my wood working shop. These things, inanimate objects that they are, have stories to tell. Filling those blanks, or to imagine stories around them may for some open a different view of America.

Speaking of stories, there is another one. 

2. Chris came back after a three year stint during the Iraq war a broken man. Almost each passing day was a slow downward spiral into an abyss he  was now hopelessly unable to reverse. One day he resolved to get out of it the only way he knew how. He was going to do it that evening. His life had been reduced to two months behind in rent for an empty unkempt apartment where the only thing of value left are his old 101st Airborne uniform and a 9 mm cal. pistol similar to the side arm he had during the war. And a handful of ammo. He was going to use just one of them later that evening.

He got out of bed at the usual late morning of between ten and eleven and often with very little ambition to do anything, when the days would go by aimlessly. But today he had a purpose. He will go  out, walk around the neighborhood, have one final look. Not that there was much to look at. He will come by the shelter where he'll get lunch and say goodbye to the folks who every day dutifully served him and others like him. They are his last remaining contact in a world that had forgotten him. Abandoned him, in his mind.

He was surprised that he had accomplished what he planned for and was now walking back slowly, block by block, to his apartment. He might take a nap, wake up by sunset, and it shall be the end. He played that in his mind, over and over, making note of the sunset and the metaphor it represented in the coming night.

Just two blocks away from his apartment at an intersection by the curb was a white dog standing motionless. Its white coat caked with mud, its right ear was scarred and there was a frayed dog collar around its neck . They locked eyes. Chris looking down at the dog that  was looking up at him. When he stooped down to pat the dog it remained motionless then licked his hand. Chris then walked away in the direction of his apartment. The dog followed him. He looked back and for some reason he felt compelled to encourage the dog to follow him.

The dog had to be hungry. When he got to the apartment he knocked at his downstairs neighbor's apartment whom he knew has a dog. He was going to see if she can spare some dog food. The lady knew him and she was happy to give the dog some in a dish and  water in another. While the dog was eating their conversation led to what he was going to do with the stray. The lady suggested that he take it to the animal shelter that was actually a short walking distance from the apartment. It's possible the dog's owner may have registered the dog in the lost section. She gave him a spare leash for the dog and off the two went when the dog finished.

When Chris got there a young staffer told him there was nothing filed for this particular dog. She can take the dog but in a few days if there is no claimant the dog will be euthanized. The staffer now introduced herself . Her name is Claire. Claire said, "I think the dog likes you.  Why don't you keep him? You know he has a name on its collar. Tracer."

Claire, before Chris could respond, asked, "If you have to go to work, you can leave him here and pick him up after work." When Chris answered that he didn't have a job, Claire asked him if he wanted to work at the shelter. He seemed to be good with dogs. "There are a lot of them to take care of here and the shelter does have a need for another person". Claire added.

That was ten years ago. Chris just had his ten-year anniversary with the shelter. He had been a model employee. Claire is now the Director of the shelter, married to a policeman, and they now have two kids, and Chris had since been a regular  Thanksgiving dinner guest at Claire's growing family that has now two dogs of their own. Tracer passed away three years ago but Chris has another rescue dog that is with him while at work at the shelter and goes home with him each night to a better apartment. Chris also volunteers his weekends serving meals at the very same place that used to serve him.

Chris did get off the downward spiral road but through an entirely unexpected but altogether beatific way.

The Moral of the story: Everything and everybody has a story - the dog, the downstairs neighbor, Claire and most of all - Chris. We should all be mindful of these stories. They're all around us.


These stories I did imagine. The real ones out there could be more profoundly real.

So That's What It Really Is?!

A couple of European readers actually thought that the origin of popular phrases in the previous blog  as portrayed by the stories I wove around them were real. They were merely made up by me.  As it turned out, for the most part, only American English speakers saw the humor in them. Or, as the British natives would say, "humour". None native English speakers therefore beware! Now, it must be realized, however, that the stories that accompany them are slight reflections or social commentaries on American life (if you can see them), which stand on their own. But the phrases and idiomatic expressions are real. The puns are ...well ... you be the judge 😎

1. Amy and Joan, long time friends, wanted so much to get to this very popular restaurant that always has a long line and a reservation waiting list that goes back weeks. They think they found a clever way to beat the system.

One day, at ten in the morning the two friends went to the restaurant as the breakfast crowd was thinning. Breakfast does not require reservations so they had no problem getting seated. By 11:15 the breakfast crowd is gone except for the two friends.  They nursed their now lukewarm  coffee as slowly as they can - sip by intermittent sip. By this time the waiter approached them with the check who then told them that they needed to leave as soon as possible because the staff had to change all the table cloths for the lunch diners that are now lining up outside.

Amy said they're having lunch as well as a continuation and they're happy to keep the table with or without the new table cloth. But the waiter said they can't do that. Joan demanded that the waiter call the manager. The manager came and Joan explained that since they are here and still have their table they have every right to it and are now willing to order their next meal as a continuation.

The manager, now rather peeved and quickly losing his patience, explained as sternly as he could that for 23 years he'd been working in this restaurant throughout all that time he was sure , 

"There is no such thing as a pre-lunch" .

2. Greg's wife Peggy is known to be such a picky person when it comes to certain things. One day their electric door bell - Peggy's favorite because of the particular chime it played when people come at the front door - ceased to work. It needed to be replaced. Peggy dragged Greg to go shopping for a new door bell. Just what Greg dreaded, they'd been to several stores, by car and by foot, but Peggy didn't find anything that suited her taste or fancy. Then there was this small store that Peggy said is the last one for the day. It was getting late and if she couldn't find any there, the hunt continues the following day. They went in even though Greg held little hope. The owner came to greet them and showed Peggy a few that might interest her.  Meanwhile Greg, not wanting to be anywhere near when Peggy dashes any hope of ever finding her "door bell", decided to browse at the opposite corner and as far away from where Peggy and the store owner were doing their little back and forth. 

Hardly twenty minutes passed and there was Peggy with a paper bag at the cashier's station waiting in line to pay. Greg grabbed the store owner to ask him what his secret was. The store owner said, "I can tell as soon as you came in from the looks on your faces that you've been to at least five or so stores already". Greg said, "Six and you are the seventh. So tell me!"

The store owner was happy to explain. "I have these three most popular door bells and they excel in performance. But they're rated at good, better and best. So what I did, which is what I usually do, was let your wife listen to the good one first, then the better one, and  the best one last. At that point, she made her decision". The store owner had known this for a very long time now that with a little patience and clever timing he just knew that, 


"The third chime is always a charm."

3. Bob was telling his best friend Josh about this new woman he'd been dating for sometime now that Josh has yet to meet. Josh asked Bob how is it so far. Bob said, "Ruth is kind of special except for a few things. She's beautiful and smart and almost unreal, even too good to be true". SO what's the problem, asked Josh.

Bob told him Ruth orders dessert first before the main meal. Not as a dietary thing but just because she'd rather eat the best part of the dining experience first. There are other idiosyncrasies that makes her a little bit off compared to most everyone he knows in the real world. She's an astronomer too so she's out most nights and comes home at dawn. "But when do you guys get to go out together then?" asked Josh. 

Bob replied, "We go out when Ruth is not working which is mainly during full moon or when the weather is bad. When the moon is full the night sky is not conducive to viewing distant parts of the heavens and when the weather is bad, well, that is obvious. There are no astronomical observations to be made during inclement weather".

Bob then asked Josh what he thinks before he introduces Ruth to him. Josh as only a good friend can do said that given what Bob had told him so far, 

"Ruth is stranger than fiction".

4. Al and Will had been best friends since kindergarten. They were inseparable. They played football together in high school and their team won the state championships twice. That cemented their popularity.  The local town knew them as the Al and Will team. 

After graduation though things went rather differently for each. Al went to work the farm that his family gave him to develop, a parcel of land that was part of the family's large acreage that had been theirs for generations. Will went to find his fortune in the city thirty miles or so away.  He didn't do too well and in no time resorted to petty crimes.

Meanwhile, Al worked hard. He just finished digging a well as a water source for the few livestock and poultry he had recently added to the land and well on his way to developing an orchard.

Meanwhile, Will was increasingly getting into hard core crime. Then one afternoon he decided to rob a bank. It didn't go well. Police were alerted but Will had sped away in his getaway car. He drove away from the city in the direction of his old town towards Al's farm. Will found Al by the well where Al was unloading bricks. Apparently the bricks were to provide a wall around the open well. They were talking animatedly when police cars, trailed by swirling dust, were heading towards the farm. Al pleaded with Will to give himself up. Will will have none of that.  As the first police car turned in after the gate, Will made a few steps back pulling a hand gun from his waist band. Not realizing that he was close to the open well he kept stepping back. Then he fell into the well.

While waiting for the firemen to arrive to rescue Will the Sheriff held a news conference. Though a little dismayed and disappointed by what happened in this small town, the Sheriff was saddened by the turn of events and as he looked down the big hole, he said, "From what we can see here, it is:


Al's well that ends Will!"

5. Nick lives in Queens, NY. It's a tough neighborhood where he makes a living. Even tougher for him because the small store that he runs is as much a legitimate fruit stand as a front for a numbers game and illegal sports betting. He takes in bets from professional gamblers and the local folks who are also his customers. He knows all his customers which also include some of the poorest ones who had no business parlaying what little money they had in the hope of hitting it big in numbers or sports betting. Often some of these folks would incur gambling debts they have a hard time paying back.

Nick appears tough though because he had to maintain that exterior so no one runs up debts beyond what he'd allow. Nobody does for the most part.  Every now and then some tough looking men would hang out at the store. They have the swagger of mean-looking enforcers from the "organization". It is enough to provide the right "image" though Nick never used them.

Nick does not go straight home every evening. No one really knows where he goes for an hour except his wife. He volunteers each night at a homeless center serving meals. Then he goes home to have a later dinner with his wife. The two children would eat earlier and attend to their school work.

As most evenings go, Nick's wife asked him how his day went. "There was a lot of people at the homeless center tonight and I really felt bad for those folks", Nick replied. "I will probably work there a bit longer this Sunday. By the way, Salvatore came to the store today. He still couldn't pay the $200 he owes me. I told him I'll forgive it if he volunteers his whole Sunday at the center. Don't worry he won't see me because I'll work in the kitchen. He will be assigned to clean the tables and push wheel chairs and other chores." 

His wife gave him a warm kiss on the forehead and said, "You're a good man Nick."

This proves once again that, "You can't judge a bookie by his cover."




The real expressions are (just for the benefit of those unfamiliar or who didn't get what the stories were all about):

1. "There is no such thing as a free lunch."  This has a really interesting origin. In old English taverns  some owners offered  free lunch to customers who ordered a drink. The cook would actually put extra salt on the food. The salty meals made the customers thirsty so they ordered more drinks; more than they had originally intended.  Hence, in life we somehow pay in some way or another  for most of what we thought we got for free.

2. "The third time is a charm."
3. "Truth is stranger than fiction".
4. "All's well that ends well."  --- By no other than Will Shakespeare
5. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

Origin of Popular Phrases

Popular phrases, idiomatic expressions, nuggets of wisdom in the English language are mere derivatives from combined words that add color or spice to what would be a rather straightforward use of communication. So, folks invented sayings that are short, not necessarily with a pointed meaning towards the obvious or the literal translation, yet it is packed with subtle, albeit different take on the ordinary. (To my foreign readers, please bear with these ones).

Popular phrases have already  been well explained and many of their origins are well researched and documented, and so we've lived with them. However, there could be alternative origins that we may not know.

1. John and Mary are a lovely couple who live in a lovely home and naturally in a lovely neighborhood. One night all of that came crashing down. Neighbors first heard muffled yelling, unmistakable shattering of breakable kitchen wares, doors slammed and the house went dark, followed abruptly by an eerie silence. 

The couple's evening begun as it  always did - very serenely quiet - a good conversation over a rather nicely prepared dinner. Shortly after the second glass of wine were sipped dry and coffee was brewing, their conversation switched to critiquing the movie they watched earlier. There was a little disagreement on the casting of the actors, then to the story line and the ending. Then lo and behold the discussion turned from civil to nasty, with a few choice words from each other, then the yelling started. Chairs were pushed, dishes dropped into the sink, as the aroma of brewed coffee wafted aimlessly through the empty kitchen; the coffee pot untouched for the rest of the night and through the early morning hours.

It was about one lousy movie that neither of them particularly liked but the ignition of the fiery word fight begun with a failed central casting by some unknown low budget film producer, a story not worth the 2-hour reel of film, let alone the wasted time they both could have decided to forego after the first fifteen minutes of the obviously less than 1/2 star rated flick. What happened?

That is the 21st century origin of "creating a mountain out of a molehill." 

"Men trip not on mountains; they trip on molehills".   - Chinese Proverb

2. It is the year 2084. Humans have at last begun the colonization of the red planet. To live there engineers constructed long vertical silos deep into the Martian crust to avoid intense solar radiation from the surface. These vertical silos were then connected to each other by a network of horizontal tunnels. Air supply was produced by breaking down the ice at the Martian ice caps, melt it into water first, and separating the oxygen from hydrogen to create the atmosphere below. Hydrogen was used as fuel. Air had to be forcibly pushed by massive pumps to the silos with one-way valves to maintain a livable atmospheric pressure below.

One day, a massive fire broke out in one of the tunnels next to a factory. The fire kept burning and intensifying as oxygen keeps coming through the door in the silo that they could not close. Men were now trapped at the bottom of the silo. They could not climb up to overcome the onrushing oxygen from above. The one way out was through the door opposite the open one but it was shut because the rushing oxygen going through the open door that was feeding the fire was creating a continuous partial vacuum thus keeping the other door from opening. 

The solution was to close the open door to keep the oxygen from feeding the fire there, restore the atmospheric pressure, stop the partial vacuum and prevent the fumes from coming through. So, with all their might the men at the silo all called upon their collective strength and determination to forcibly close the open door. As soon as they successfully did that the air pressure stabilized thus stopping the partial vacuum. Immediately the opposite door swung back and the men were able to move through to the the other tunnel. They not only survived but they went on to be part of a flourishing population because of the one climactic episode that changed their lives which from that point on they really believed that:





 "When one door closes, another opens."


3. Walther Gunn had long been suspected by police as a serial killer but there was not a single piece of evidence to link him to any of the crimes. There was one piece but it was one cigarette of a particular brand that had not been lit found at one of the earlier crime scenes. Though there was not a single speck of DNA  police considered it significant because the brand was distinctly expensive and not so common. It may have been left by the killer. That piece of information was inadvertently leaked to the press which obviously alerted the suspect. Walther was soon, more so than ever, extra vigilant and careful that  he was not seen smoking in public any longer except for the one instance when someone did see him smoke and put his spent cigarette in a pouch he carried which no one knew how he disposed them. Police could not search him or his house or car for lack of probable cause but was forced to confront the suspect and asked him point blank if he smoked that brand. Of course, he denied it vehemently and claimed that he had in fact quit smoking altogether. He then dared them that if they can prove that he still smokes and smoking the same brand then he will admit to the suspicion (meaning he will agree to be interrogated). Meanwhile the police should stay away from him, he warned.

But as serial killers go Walther was a creature of habit. He still actually smoked and he stuck with the same brand. The police never gave up and put a tail on him. And they were so good at it that the suspect never suspected a thing.  Then one fateful evening the detective on the tail saw the suspect lit up a cigarette. The back-up detectives came quickly and in no time apprehended Walther with the cigarette still in his mouth - the same exact brand. He  willingly gave up.

The lead detective called his boss who then called the Police Commissioner to say... (drum roll, please) ... 


"Commissioner sir, my men saw "Gunn Smoke".  "We have in custody the ...




The Smoking Gunn

(Note: Y'all should give me a break. It was exhausting to come up with this story and I know that  if I have to explain to those who couldn't remember or ever saw the 635 episodes of the Western  TV series from 1955 to 1975, then it is even more work. I know  I should be more careful with discerning word spellings too.).


4. It was 25 years ago when in 1994 one of the strangest criminal/sociological events to hit America came into full view by the television public. That was the famous O.J. Simpson Bronco chase that captivated the nation and the whole world. Everyone was riveted to their TV sets as the famous incident was unfolding before their eyes. Every city anywhere had that to focus its attention.  Except in one little sector in the Midwest. That one-TV-station rural county was viewing the live coverage of the local orchid club.  There was a presentation going on by one expert orchid lover who had just come back from his trip to the region at the foot of the Himalayas.  He was introducing a new species of Phalaeonopsis that rivaled in rarity and beauty to the one recently found in the jungles of Mindoro in the Philippines.

The regional manager of the network was alerted by his staff about what was being broadcast by the one particular local station. He immediately called the local manager who wasted no time to get the producer of the orchid show on his head set. The producer was screaming at the producer's headphone, "Come on already, do the switch!"

The producer calmly but forcefully commanded his now frazzled  technical director to switch the broadcast to the now famous event on the TV monitor, "On my count 3-2-1 ...



"Let's cut to the chase!"

Now, y'all know how that small local community gave us that one little expression.

(Not too bad, isn't it?)

5. At the height of the Cold War, just prior to the failed Bay of Pigs incident, President Kennedy ordered the U.S. embassy staff out of that Caribbean island and all diplomatic personnel to fly back immediately. Earlier the President declared that Cuban cigars be banned from entering the U.S. thus declaring them contraband items. None of the U.S. staff should even be thinking about bringing any of it to the U.S. on their way out.

Every U.S. personnel was warned repeatedly and everyone heeded the heads up, except for one senior staff - a stubborn man but a connoisseur of the widely popular smoke - whom top level Customs Agent were told to look out for when his flight came in. Everyone's luggage had to be inspected. A special customs official was assigned to personally check  the subject diplomat who everyone knew was going to risk it all - he was surely going to do it.

Ranking Customs officials were glued to their TV monitors at the customs office from above, facing the customs entry way. They were linked by head phones to the lead inspector below at the customs line. The special  agent opened the subject's suitcase. Mixed with the man's toiletries and boxer shorts there were three small wooden boxes tape-sealed and bound by rubber bands. The inspector carefully opened them. There were polished sea shells, some postcards and glossy photos but one box had pouches of tobacco snuff and three tin cans of the same and three rolled thin paper that may have contained some cannabis. At that point the ranking official above whispered on the head set of the inspector, "Did we get him?"







"Sir, close but no cigar." 

Now, I shouldn't be the one person to be telling these long elaborate stories. These kind of explanations clearly defy my firm belief in the principle of The Occam's Razor. You can look this up but I will tell you briefly. The principle merely says that "all things being equal the simplest explanation of any phenomenon is likely the correct one."

Mainly for the non-native English readers of my blog, or those not familiar with American idioms, here are the universally accepted and sensible nuggets of explanations in as few words as possible - mere fractions of the versions I so painstakingly stitched together, as only an idle mind can, out of the flimsiest of yarns earlier. Truth be told, the following are  likely the correct explanations.

"From molehills into mountains ".
Make a big deal out of something so trivial. Or take one little thing and blow it up until you lose control of it.

"When one door closes another one opens".
This is inspirational to those who dismay when one opportunity is lost; there will be another one.

"The smoking gun."
Clear, incontrovertible evidence or proof.

"Cut To The Chase"
To get to the point, leaving out all of the unnecessary details. Similar to popular sayings such as “beating around the bush.”

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"Close But No Cigar".
Coming close to a successful outcome only to fall short at the end.



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