I picked up a book today entitled Logic. The title seemed very straightforward to me, so I then opened it up. I was then held spellbound by the fact that I didn’t understand any of it. I thought that perhaps if this not-so-logical person were logical, that I might understand it. Uh Uh.

I next looked at the date of publication. 1980. Huh. I figured the book was a keeper because the laws of logic most likely had not changed in 40 plus years. Or if they have, I am and will remain unaware of this.

But as all good books do, this one got me thinking. Logic and being logical are highly valued in today’s society (this sounds like the first line of a freshman composition paper). And those who are logical are thought to be intelligent. There are then the rest of us, who are not logical and therefore considered to be unintelligent.

Alys with Dr Seuss Books

I am not sure this is really a truism. Those of us who are at the other end of the spectrum tend to think qualitatively rather than quantitively. Ours is a world in which imagination and creativity take precedence.

And imaginative idea begins with a what if – what if, say, a giant mosquito came and landed on the lawn and with its giant feelers, beckoned to someone close by to go for a ride. Those who think logically would not continue with this line of thought. They would not, for example, think of what would happen if this someone got on the Malaria Express and went, say, to various parts of the world, stopping now and then to get a drink of water from a fast-moving stream.

No, no, no, they would say. This is not real, so it has no validity. It would be impossible for them to suspend disbelief. Me, I see it, I live it. The mosquito, I think, is big and hairy and at the same time, very obliging. If I were to be taken anywhere, I’d want to go to Niagara Falls, and fly close to the falls. I would of course trust that the mosquito would not dump me; although, it would have every reason in the world to do so. Humans for centuries have been killing mosquitos by the millions.

I could write a book called the Malaria Express; although, I’d have to find someone else to illustrate it.

Tonight I put the finishing touches on the newspaper box, which is now a beehive. No, I am not an artist. But the premise, that a newspaper box is a beehive, it’s there for those who want to believe.

Those who think logically can’t suspend disbelief as easily as the rest of us.

My friend Becky has created the Blickens family. They are a family of giant chickens, landscape sculptures. All have names. All in her mind, and in the minds of those who believe, are real.

Little kids believe. Little kids have great imaginations. We need to keep feeding this insatiable desire for as long as we can.

Next: 223. 8/15/23: Lost Time