Current mood: Confounded
There is an old saying that goes ‘a buried corpse is as good as a blind mole in a vineyard when one is loosing their virginity’. And when I was young, my mother whispering that in my ear, I only stopped crying to ask myself what it meant. The fridge door still flapping open, I understood that, even at seven years old, the phrase ‘no use crying over spilt milk’ would be more appropriate, maybe a bit too literal but apt nonetheless. But my mother achieved her goal even if she didn’t understand the phrase herself.
And so, it stuck with me through all the times one experiences in their life, affecting all of my decisions as I even went as far as to lose my virginity in a vineyard in France, the blind mole and corpses notoriously hard to acquire after the war. But no revelation was forthcoming, well none pertaining to the saying, but a few to earthly pleasures that are beside the point.
Alas, I studied biology to learn about the body and it’s various functions and actions, alive and dead. I spent some time, in Germany, learning the ways of the vineyards and various irrigation methods, the effect of the soil in the presence of blind moles (aren’t they all) and other wonderful titbits that would just bore you with their plainness. However, all of my research came to nothing, no answer and a deep emptiness.
And sixty years after that infernal idiom cling upon my life, I am a lecturer at a prestigious college, teaching what I’ve learned to students with nobler intentions than I had at their age. And in class, out of sheer boredom, I ask the meaning of that phrase to a group of kids with as much life in front of them as I have behind and one speaks up, to my astonishment, and leaves it to rest. He says:
“It’s just nonsense sir, isn’t it? I think what it’s trying to say is that life is a random series of events, you know. One thing doesn’t affect the other, but altogether, it’s life. I think.”
And this, from an agricultural student.