Page 27 - Vol. VI #2

That same year, for his birthday, the boy received a present he would never forget. That present was not memorable because it was unique—he received many presents, all but one carefully wrapped in white paper, each with a different colored bow. His birthday “party” took place on a cold, sunny Feb- ruary morning. Important occasions were family affairs. His mother and both grandmothers were there. The men were at work.
The festivities began with cake, chocolate. The boy loved chocolate. No words were on the cake, just six flaming candles. A wish, kept secret, had to be made and the candles blown out. It was suggested that the cake be sliced and milk be brought in— but the boy would have none of that—it was on to the presents.
The presents were many and varied. Some were cheap, but were full of thought and love. Most were expensive, much more than the family could afford. But six-year-old boys were not aware of or should be burdened by thoughts of finance.
As the boy ripped the paper from each box, his mother, with occasional support from one or the other grandmother, described the wonderfulness of each present and tried to transfer her excitement to the boy. When, finally, the boy tore into the last present, he didn’t notice that his mother had mys- teriously left the room. He did notice, just before opening the present, that the box was square and not really a box.
For a moment, as the paper departed, the boy was disappointed to see a thick book appear. Then his mother returned, carrying a small brown-and- white dog, a puppy with a hooked nose. She simply said “This is Rick.” ~
Observing these wood bees made me think they were pretty smart. Perhaps it is not even that weird to think each bee may have a mind of its own. And its own world-view. Being obsessed with sales, which could be defined as the art of getting others to do what you want them to do, I asked myself “What does a wood bee want to sell?”
Before we can explore the mind of a wood bee, we must first admit to the possibility that a wood bee has a mind. You may find it possible to believe I have a unique world-view and you have a differ- ent, unique world-view. It is, however, probably more difficult to believe both world-views are equally valid. Or invalid. But it requires a quantum leap to accept that a wood bee has a world-view, and this world-view is just as valid, or invalid, as yours or mine. ~
The boy could not spend his entire life on the porch swing reading. Sometimes the cold of winter (even the South gets cold in winter) would force him indoors. Or he would have to go to school and read about that stupid Dick and Jane. There might be “a call of nature.” Or he had to sleep or eat.
When the boy entered his home, he had choices. He could go straight, past the first bedroom and continue down the hall past the bathroom and the second bedroom. Then, of course, he could go out the door into the backyard. The first bedroom was his—with his bed, a bookcase, and a small closet. There wasn’t room for most of his toys—they were stored upstairs in the attic. There was a pull-down stairs in the hall.
~
From a very young age, I have been interested in science. At first, I was attracted to it because I believed it potentially could answer any question. Then I read about quantum physics, which was definitely science, but was definitely not definite. Quantum physics, for example, states that one can never know the exact location of an electron, but only the probability that it will be found at a par- ticular place. When quantum physics looked at an imaginary feline (Schrödinger’s cat), it asserted that, under certain circumstances, the cat could be alive or dead, or both alive and dead—until you looked at it, the cat was in this strange quasi- state.
To me, when one asks, as quantum physics does,
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