Today when I was driving along a road there were two city
workers staring up to the top of a light pole. I knew they were city workers
because as far as I could tell, they weren’t doing anything at all. One guy
would point and describe a circle in the air with his index finger and the
other guy would shake his head “No” and make the same circle with his hand. If
you ask me they were both two or three bricks short of a full load and there
was a very good chance that if you drove by that location three hours later,
they would still be staring at the top of the pole and making circles in the
air with their hands. And they would be getting overtime pay of course.
It reminded me of a time when I was in grade twelve or
thirteen and my buddy Ken and I took the day off school and went downtown to
check out Sam’s and A & A record stores. We had recently watched some spy movie
that had the head quarters in a downtown Manhattan
high rise building. The spy head quarters was on three floors somewhere in the
middle of the building and was hidden by the simple means of not numbering the
floors. The building had elevators that had 60 floors and there were 63 floors
in the building. We thought it was ingenious.
It didn’t take our smoke addled brains long to start thinking
that any of the buildings around us at Yonge and Bloor could house some spy
agency. We went into one building and took a look at how many floors the
elevators went up to. This particular one had forty two I think, so Ken and I
went back outside to see if the elevator floors and the actual floors came out
to the same number.
On the first count, I came up with thirty three and Ken
counted forty seven. The problem with counting when you are in a smoke induced
fog is that it is pretty much impossible to come up with five when you count
the fingers on your hand. Shit! Going past that was a nightmare, especially for
a math idiot savant like me. Minus the “savant” of course. We counted again and
this time I was in the forties and Ken was around 39. We mulled over adding our
figures together and then dividing by two, but that wouldn’t work. In the first
place it kind of nullified the whole idea and in the second place it would
involve addition and division which was nearly impossible for us.
We noticed that a small crowd had gathered around us. At
first, we wondered what they were looking at, but then we realized they were
looking up because we were. That was pretty cool. Ken was always pretty quick
on the uptake and asked how many floors up that flag near the top was. Now we
had about ten eyes counting floors. They must have been skipping school too,
because they each came up with a different number. It is possible that there
was some secret spy thingy that made it impossible to accurately count the
number of floors. The more reasonable explanation is that one should never
smoke good Acapulco Gold and attempt to count past twenty-one.
We wandered off south trying to find Sam’s and A & A’s,
leaving the impromptu crowd arguing about how high the flag was. I thought that
Sam’s was ten blocks from here and Ken was sure it was thirteen. We decided to
keep count of the blocks as we walked.
Uhhhh…what were we doing?
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