The brain is really a wonderful thing. So wonderful that we often take it for granted. I've learned to never take it for granted. And that's because, besides being wonderful, my brain gets me in more trouble than I can possibly handle. <br />
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It was an innocent week-end trip to celebrate my wife's birthday at an upscale Inn in North Carolina. There was the room as big as a warehouse, lots of staff with accents, a restaurant that required a jacket, and complementary champagne. <br />
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Without any input from me, my wonderful brain engineered my downward spiral into ignominy in this otherwise bucolic setting. In other words, my brain was the culprit that gave me the green light on the complementary champagne. I've never been one to disregard a directive from my brain, so I consented to the bubbly stuff. And in the absence of any directive to the contrary, I continued to consent to the filling of my flute at regular intervals. <br />
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I'd like to also point out that it was also my brain's fault that my wife and I had wine for dinner, and that we had an aperitif after dinner to "seal the deal" you might say. But the serious problem came about purely by accident. Completing dinner, we made our way to a small, but cozy bar area where, we'd been informed, there would be live entertainment. I heard the lounge singer's voice as we casually approached, and I felt the slightest tinkle of recognition. Somewhere in the darkest recesses of my gray matter, a single neuron fired up and began to glow red. <br />
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Quite honestly, being in the throes of champagne, wine, and aperitif, I paid no heed to the moment of illumination. All the same, that single neuron continued to fire relentlessly to the extent that it woke up about a million of it's compatriots and before I know it, a sharp, piercing thought appeared on the horizon
