Chinese Jumprope

One day not long ago in the cosmic sense of things, but quite a long time ago in the life of someone who’s under 30, “on” was born.

The day of the week, the time of year, and the geographic location are all irrelevant, though it was probably in Winona, Minnesota, which I have long claimed is some kind of Nexus of the universe, or is it a Lexus of the universe? Well, Winona is certainly not a Lexus of anything, except maybe of smallish cities in the southeast corner of Minnesota. Yes, Winona may actually BE the Lexus of that.
Winona, Minn. is kind of like that “center of gravity” attraction at Knott’s Berry Farm where it’s a house you walk through, and because the walls and floors are tilted funny, they can do optical illusions where you sit on a chair balanced on a wall, or tall people look short and whatnot. Winona is, or was when I lived there, this small little jewel box of buzzing activity and mountains nestled in a prairie state, where it’s safe to walk yourself home from a bar at 2 AM and where phone numbers only have 5 digits. Special things, crazy things, magic things happened there. Including the birth of “on.”

If you’ve ever been in a social situation where suddenly you’re the funniest cat in the room, you’ve been “on.” You feel a little giddy, like you just took a DayQuil, and everything that comes out of your mouth is gold, Jerry, comedy gold. Unless you happen to drool on yourself, though when you’re “on” even a little drool can’t quell your imminent popularity.

The cosmic reverse of “on,” is called, believe it or not, “off.” “Off” can bring down a whole party, and the worst part is, it’s contagious! First one joke falls flat, then the awkward silences start piling up, and suddenly you’re driving home before dessert even started, wondering why you ever thought you were friends with these people in the first place and considering deleting their numbers from your cell phone.

Oh, right, this blog is supposed to be about the baby, right?
Babybabybaby. There.