I’m not sure if this is an old, common concept, or something I made up all on my own, but I’ve decided that my hands are geniuses. I may be an idiot sometimes, but my hands are fucking brilliant
I discovered this interesting little fact about myself the other day, when playing with one of those little brain-teaser 3D puzzle toys. Like any other puzzle or problem, I first tried to figure it out in my head. My visual imagination is pretty solid, and I can usually (when not drunk) maintain complex images and “drafts” in my head for as long as necessary. This little puzzle, though…Christ. It was like trying to thread a needle with a brick.
I struggled with the thing for nearly twenty minutes, jerking and twisting it and generally looking like a crazy idiot while my brain devoured itself trying to run through all the different ways the toy could have been put together. I didn’t see a box anywhere, and apparently it had never been solved since whoever’s mom gave it to them. So it wasn’t just me, is basically what I’m saying. Finally, after thinking I was on the the verge of success–like right fucking there–and getting swiftly socked in the crotch by wicked disappointment, I surrendered. Just gave up and threw the damn thing down on my buddy’s coffee table.
“Fuck you,” I told the gloating toy. It stared stupidly up at me, saying nothing, needing to say nothing; I knew the score as well as it did. I sat down on the couch, tried to concentrate on the television…
…suddenly the toy sprang open against my palm, and with hardly the slightest effort the rest of it sort of just crumbled apart. Success! Victory!
Excuse my abruptness, but that’s really how it happened. I was just sitting there watching televsion–The Daily Show, I think–when the puzzle, which I was not aware I held in my lap, apparently solved itself without any interference from yours truly. Once the first piece was moved, and believe me it was actually as complicated as I imaged, the rest of the puzzle was a cakewalk.
The best I can figure is that my hands are in fact smarter than my brain at some things. That would explain why I can never teach someone how to play things on the guitar without holding one, why I can guess angles with a pretty fair degree of accuracy, but only if I touch them, and why I learned to tie my shoes only after I learned to stop watching my hands.
I think it’s actually mild dyslexia, but there’s never been a problem keeping math formulas and cooking recipes in order upstairs. Also, I can and have always been able to unhitch a bra-strap in under a second.