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Grandpa Larry’s Random Reminiscence: Where is the Air?

It seems to me that energy is created by movement and friction. When I rub my hands together, they get warm. But where does the energy come from to rub my hands together? I think it’s the air going in and out of my mouth, through the tubes, into the big sacks; in all this there is friction and energy being created by the passing air. I am a generator. And I run on such little power.

It’s amazing that such a little bit of power, created by our breathing, could keep us cranking away sixteen hours a day and then keep us purring through the night. Some would like to tell us it’s the stuff we eat and the calories we burn that keep us going, but I don’t believe it. If that’s the source of our energy, why do we get more intense if we haven’t eaten for a while?  If you fast for a few days, you start purring at optimum efficiency. I’m convinced it’s the air whizzing in and out your nose that keeps you going. If you don’t believe me, hold your breath for a couple of minutes and see what happens.

So why all the big emphasis on food and so little emphasis on air? Do you think eating is more fun than breathing? Think that one through. Breathing is a lot more fun, considering the alternative. I’m surprised there isn’t a shelf full of different air down at the market in neatly labeled canisters with disposable mouthpieces. I’d buy one.

I just seriously altered the air in my small apartment by painting the kitchen. I deemed it a necessary improvement. Afterwards, I put the fan in the window on full blast to draw the contaminated air out. Air is seeping in everywhere to replace the disappearing, smelly air. Friction. My apartment becomes alive. It is a battle ground. The forces of life against the powers of destruction. If I leave something out too long, it rots. If I don’t wax it, it fades. If I don’t clean it, it clogs. Suddenly I become fearful. What if the electricity goes off and the fan stops, and the whole apartment collapses in on me with a big sigh, asphyxiatting me?  I think about preparing a manually operated alternative, just in case.  A towel flapping in a window on a pole.  I can move it by wiggling a toe with a ring around it that pulls the string that flaps the towel.  Life giving life to life.  A serious, ongoing battle, considering the alternative.

But where does this life come from? Who performed the original CPR? What makes the muscles move to draw in the air that oxygenates the blood that flows through the veins, creating more friction that moves the muscles to draw in the air, and pumps the flowing blood, a veritable river upon which the gondolas of nutrition float? And who might live down there at the junction at Blood River? Are they worried about power lines of nerves overhead? Or hormonal traffic speeding past, threatening the kids? I would! I’d take a couple of deep breaths and get started analyzing the problem. How can I escape my environment? I can’t. I’d better start working to change it. I’ll need some perpetual motion mechanisms that imitate this marvelous life force.

– Larry Berger. HashtagWV #122. February 2020.

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