Perhaps I've mentioned that what I read is not always what is on the page. I seem to need a change in my glasses. Even though I just had a change in September. I think somebody at the optometrist's office pulled the old switcheroo. And by old switcheroo, I don't mean when you poison your drink and then switch it with another person. There's no drinking in optometry.
Yesterday, in my internet travels, I came across a headline the baffled me.
Spinach May Protect Against Asians
What? Why do we need protection against Asians? Is it the North Korean nuclear test Asians? The Boston combat zone gang Asians? Surely not the violin-playing math wizard Asians. And how can spinach be such an enforcer? Do you throw a wad of cooked spinach soaked with vinegar from a crystal cruet into the Asians' faces? Is spinach their Kryptonite? Their cross and garlic? I was simply baffled by this spinach/Asian connection. I went back to read the article. Never mind. The headline was, in reality, Spinach May Protect Against Autism. Not nearly so intriguing.
I like to keep abreast of current developments in my field. A few weeks ago, our Science World magazine touted the discovery of the best-preserved woolly mammoth so far. And as luck would have it, the next day I saw an article in the news about this late-2012 find. Funny how life accessorizes learning. So this morning I was perusing the internet news at the end of my plan time when a headline caught my eye. I was sure it was another unfortunate interpretation.
Sea Slug's 'Disposable Penis' Surprises
Oh, yes. I'll bet it does. It certainly surprised me, peeping out of Google News. And wouldn't you know it, just as I had scrolled down to the science news, where this 'disposable penis' popped up, a student entered my room to do some office business. Who thought I would be hastily switching windows to conceal my clandestine reading? Not me! I did not click on the story. I'm sure I would have gotten the blocking message, with the THREAT that my actions had been reported to the network administrator. Without even the cute little school bus stop sign that used to signal such attempts. So sure was I that I had made yet another misinterpretation of a valid headline, I went back to look at it again. That was the actual title.
Lucky for both of us that I was able to find my 'disposable penis' later and share it with you. You're welcome. Don't say Mrs. Hillbilly Mom never gave you anything. Please refrain from having T-shirts printed with the lament:
I Went to Visit Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's Blog, and All I Got was a Disposable Penis