I’m a neuroscientist, but I like to have fun, too.
I could write about anything I want. I know some of my readers would like to hear more about neuroscience. But let me save the technical stuff for later.
Tonight I’ll be a kid. That monster 2-year-old who came to visit this afternoon. I want to be him, throwing my really expensive electronic toys (i.e., iPad, HDTV remote controls, Xbox controllers, etc.) all over the living room floor. I’ll throw my thirty-something year old tantrum because I can.
What do we do as scientists? In the most positive light I can….
I’ll write about it. There’s something special about a blank white page. Some just go through life seeing things as they are, experiencing them, even savoring them. But, I need more. Much more.
If it’s empty, I need to fill it. Nature abhors a vacuum. There’s a joy in making something different. It’s a compulsion of mine to mess things up.
Breaking stuff to learn
When I was growing up, I was the kid who would step on the grass even with the “Please keep off grass” sign planted firmly in the ground. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand what the sign said. I could certainly read at that age. Rules, I felt needed to be broken.
Well, if memory serves, I did break a lot of things.
True stories: I set fire to my parent’s living room carpet. I drove my parent’s SUV through the garage door without opening it. When I was 5 years old I pulled the fire alarm in a Friendly’s Restaurant during lunchtime–the sprinklers went off. So much destruction, more than I can remember and list here.
Good for the medical community, maybe, when I think about it….
I still break things, only now I do so with the purpose of learning how to fix it again (i.e., the nervous system). So, in fact, I was born to break things (and then learn how to fix it again). I think this works out.
I know broken.