I do not know how I just arrived at this memory/tick of mine, but I did. So naturally I am going to share it with you. As as child I remember many instances of flipping a switch or turning a knob and thinking to myself just how many times that knob/switch has been used in its life. I can recall turning the knob for more heat in our family's old minivan and instantly wanting to sit there and match how many times it had been turned.
I still do this. The other day I was in my girlfriend's car and turned the knob—instantly I thought about matching how many times it had been turned. I don't know if the impulse is OCD or giving credit to how long the knob or switch has lasted through all the uses. Part of me romanticizes sitting there; the engineered plastic ridges; the discolored surface around the knob faded from fingers jamming and slapping, desperately attempting to turn up the heat in the dark; and flipping/turning said knob as a montage of moments come and go on the projector screen while Lost In My Mind by The Head and the Heart plays.
I'm weird but I feel that it connects me to all the time spent being that knob. Let me clarify though. I don't literally think about the life of the knob, and what emotions it must have felt over the years, but the events that took place around it (okay maybe I do think a little about the knob and what it felt...so what!).
The knob itself is there as a catapult, firing me into the impulse of action! Oh man...that one sounded almost romantic. Phew!
I better stop writing or who knows what will come out.
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