Wednesday, February 07, 2007

The Miles High Club? Apparently Not.

My wife could be an academic if she wanted to. I asked her if she would put on an adult diaper and drive a thousand miles nonstop just so she could dispose of a rival for my affections using woefully insufficient tools more appropriate for doing minor household repair than homicide, and she said she understood the question, but it was not an *interesting* question.

What interested her was whether or not this whole mess got started with the lady astronaut in question and the male astronaut in question -- Captain Catnip? I think that's what we should call him -- because they had the sex in outer space. This had not crossed my mind, but it had crossed my wife's mind, which suggests on some fundamental level our minds are in separate orbits. (And my orbit is decaying. Subject for another post.)

I suppose that the sex in outer space might produce a special kind of bond if only because when it comes to the sex I have always regarded gravity as my friend, more or less keeping both of us in the same place, sex at its best being a matter of adjacency, at least in my experience.

I would suppose when it came to sex in space, engineers would be the best partners, though when it comes to the engineers I have known, they are probably longer on theoretical expertise than on opportunity when it comes to the sex.

My wife is an architect. Entirely different skill set.

Anyway, this was the aspect of the domestic tragedy that intrigued my wife, and apparently has continued to intrigue her, since just a moment ago I got a brief email saying:

not in space together; there goes my theory!

To which I can only reply ... as the songwriter said.

F – M – A!
F – M – A!

Force – Mass – Acceleration!

Let’s get it goin’, can ya feel the beat,
Talkin’ ‘bout motion and things ya never see,
A fundamental notion, the universal key,
Everything's in motion now get up on your feet.

One day an apple fell from the tree
Onto Newtons' head – he was chillin', see,
Sittin' there, feelin' sore,
He had an idea nobody thought of before.

The old guys thought they had it all figured out,
They called him a rebel, but he had no doubt,
He knew what he was talkin' about,
He said "hey man, check it out"

Everything's in motion, everything's in motion.
Everything's movin, no sittin' on the side,
Get wit' ya go now, and glide when ya slide,
Never gonna stop rollin' when ya ride,
Spinnin' ya wheels and flowin' like the tide.

Everything's movin' now, everything's in motion,
Force is always workin', a fundamental notion,
Always pushin' always pullin, always on the go,
Now ya see it, now ya don't, but everything's in motion.

Everything's in motion.
Everything's in motion.

Put the word "baby" at the end of this, and I think we are saying something very beautiful. And, Groove Daddy: You really want hit this link and click "Watch It."

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