Delray Beach Dog Walk III

© Thomas Wilson Shawcross 1 Oct 2006

Author’s note: This is the third story in my Delray Beach Dog Walk series. The first story in this series was written 29 May 2005 and the second on 1 Oct 2005.


Peanut Max Shawcross
Canis familiaris

This evening, as I took Peanut for a walk through our “hood” in downtown Delray Beach, it occurred to me that I should make better use of the time I spend in these dog walks. Surely, walking a dog does not require 100% of the 10% of our brains that we humans are said to use; perhaps I could accomplish a bit more than making sure that a certain pampered Bichon Frisé gets his exercise?

Years ago, I read of an English nobleman who had written an entire volume of poetry while waiting, every day, for his wife to finish dressing for dinner. Last week, at Barnes & Noble, I saw a book that Jack Kerouac wrote after a friend had advised him to write short stories in a manner similar to how an artist might go into the streets of a city to sketch.

Well, I have written street scene sketches (see the first two articles of this series), and I could have written another one tonight, but tonight I was feeling that I should try to do more than simply observe and comment. I should try to do something a bit more intellectual.

A recent letter I received from Jo Brockhaus had started me thinking along this line. Jo and her husband Doug had visited Delray Beach recently, and Jo had mailed me a photo she took of me and Doug and commented that they had started reading my blog and thought it was intellectual.

That surprised me. Moi, intellectual?

My first thought was that Jo was kidding, as she had also written that Doug and I had not changed a bit (well, Doug looks the same, but either Jo was kidding or else Jo needs glasses, as I have put on at least five pounds in the last thirty years). Ok, ok, at least ten pounds. So anyway, maybe Jo was kidding about the intellectual part too?

But, it is never too late, so maybe I could use these Delray Beach dogwalks to increase my intellectual power? That would stop those super-smart physicists from kicking sand on me when I take my girl to the beach! Well, to be honest, I don’t have a girl to take to the beach right now, and the irony of that is not lost on me every time I see a local character whom I shall refer to as “No Nose” walking the sidewalks of Delray Beach with his girlfriend. “No Nose” has a girlfriend but no nose. Literally. I don’t mean that he has a smallish nose. There is a black hole in the middle of his face where his nose should be. And yet, “No Nose” has a girlfriend, while I, who have all of my original equipment body parts, don’t. Women. Go figure. Maybe she cut off his nose during an argument and now stays with him out of guilt?

But, I digress.

So, now I had determined to spend the remainder of tonight’s Delray Beach dog walk in lofty intellectual pursuits. But, how, exactly, was I supposed to do that? “WWED?” I thought to myself – (“What would Einstein do?).

I vaguely recalled reading some story about how Einstein had been riding the train to work when he got the idea for the relativity of time as he was looking at a large clock in the town square. See? He could have been just riding a train to work, much as I was just walking a dog, but he had the initiative to use some of his otherwise unused brain cycles and came up with something tres intellectual. Why couldn’t I do that too?

I thought pretty hard about things for a half-block or so, but I was coming up empty, intellectual-wise. Maybe it would help if I pretended I was Einstein? It was worth a shot.

I remembered that Einstein was proudest of his equation for gravity, which he personally felt put e = mc² in the shade. But, I couldn’t remember what it was – but maybe I could quickly infer it as I walked to see the Elvis impersonator at Elwoods? True, it had taken Einstein himself much longer to come up with it, but maybe he was not as motivated as I was tonight.

Hmm, let’s see now, I could remember Isaac Newton’s equation for gravity, which was a laughingly simple:

F = -G (m1m2/r²)

In which:

F is the magnitude of the (repulsive) gravitational force between the two point masses
G is the gravitational constant
m1 is the mass of the first point mass
m2 is the mass of the second point mass
r is the distance between the two point masses

As I recall, if one would mention this equation to Einstein while he was drinking a beer, he would start laughing so hard that the beer would shoot out through his nose! No, his gravity equation (actually, I think there was a set of them) was much more complicated, even before he added the universal constant which he later characterized as “the worst mistake of my life.” Obviously, Einstein never hired my divorce attorney.

But, I should be able to figure this out. They say that the movement of the ocean tides is caused by the gravitational pull of the moon, so assuming that the ocean level nearest the moon is lifted a half-meter or so, then (excuse me while I perform a few complex mathematical calculations in my head) . . . then that means that the gravitational pull of the moon must lift approximately one gajillion kilograms of water!

But wait, that can’t be right. If the pull of the moon’s gravity was that strong, why doesn’t it pull tiny birds off of telephone wires, or at least cause a rustling of silk scarves on the sales tables at Bloomingdale’s, as it gently tugs them toward the moon? Hmm, maybe it has something to do with uneven gravitational pull across the large curved surface of the earth? That could explain why tides are not seen in small ponds or in glasses of Fiji water.

Oh, I was getting nowhere. Maybe I should try channeling Einstein, letting his voice speak to me inside my head (if he can be heard above all the others). Ok, now I am walking alongside some of Delray’s sidewalk cafes, pretending that I am Einstein as I observe the crowds. Analyzing the faces of the happy diners intently (and hoping not to see “No Nose” sharing a bottle of Cristal with his trophy babe), I see them through Einstein’s eyes.

I feel the beginning of a sneer, as I hear his voice say, “Ach! I bet I know more physics than all of those dumbkoffs put together!”’

Whoa! Who knew that Einstein was like that?

Then again, maybe the world’s tallest man nicknames everyone else “Shorty.” Maybe if one knows one is the best in the world in a particular thing, be it intellect, beauty, athleticism, art, or whatever, one becomes a bit full of oneself and starts looking down on one’s inferiors. Maybe that would happen to me if I became an actual intellectual? I would not want that to happen, so I think I will abandon the idea of increasing my intellect before it is too late! I did do some heavy thinking for awhile tonight; perhaps as a caution, I should take steps to “dumb down” again.

Hmm, I wonder if that Three Stooges marathon is showing on tv tonight?