Invasion of the Life Swappers (NYC style)

I happen to know, based on very good intelligence, that Jack and Wendy are even now walking the streets of New York City. I can only assume their goal is to replace me and live out my life as I live out theirs. It’s like Freaky Friday, but less Jodie Foster, Barbara Harris, Lindsay Lohan, and Jamie Lee Curtises.

Luckily, I thought ahead and laid a few traps:

– I let all the other New Yorkers know to be really gruff and short-tempered. I only heard back from the cab-drivers, police officers, and subway employees… hopefully that’ll be enough.

– I pumped a lot of hot dog stink into the air and let all my pet rats go in the subway.

– That top lock to my apartment is super sticky. You’ll never get it undone.

– I told the exterminator not to bother with his monthly visit (Hint: the floor in my apartment doesn’t usually crunch like that).

But just in case this freaky Friday (not sure when this will be posted, but I wrote it on Friday!) never ends and I live out my life in Big Stone Gap while Jack and Wendy chill on my couch in Brooklyn, I’ll be making some changes around here.

– I’m now telling people that there’s a typo in Wendy’s book: “Yeah, they made a printing error. It’s supposed to say Andrew Whalen on the cover, but they misspelled it.”

– I renamed the store. You don’t want to know what it’s called now.

– All your friends? Stole ‘em.

– My proposal to rename the town Big Stone gAndrew hasn’t gained traction yet. I’m still optimistic.

But seriously, Jack and Wendy, have a nice time. And don’t eat all the pizza! I might want some later.

Editorial note from Wendy: Andrew doesn’t know that we looked up Ali Fisher, his girlfriend, and told her a few things. We praised Andrew’s increase of our 18-25 female demographic; we rarely had college girls in the shop before he came, but there’s been a veritable stream of them since his arrival. She seemed intrigued.

We also mentioned all the maternal types in town who have been dropping off stews, soups and casseroles since Andrew arrived, and how he’d gotten used to living large in a small town, his every whim catered. We suggested she bone up on a couple of “Cooking with Campbell’s Soups” recipe books we offered to send her.

If you call her tonight, Andrew, you just might be able to repair the damage….

Whuffling Through the Social Sciences

IN THIS EPISODE: Shopsitter Andrew Whalen gets more than he bargained for while trying to impose a little order on life’s chaos….

Things got a little too real today when I tore apart the “-Ology” bookshelf and set out to rebuild it. This shelf contains folklore, sociology, anthropology, self-help, career advice and research best practices.

At first reorganizing was fun. In a confusing world it can be comforting to establish hierarchies and draw borders. This is the appeal of the low-stakes nerd debate. Does it matter if Kirk or Picard were the better starship captain? No, but it feels good to put things in order (this one always seemed easy to me: one survived the reign of Kodos the Executioner, has the middle name Tiberius, passed the Kobayashi Maru test, and defeated conqueror-of-all-Asia Khan Noonien Singh… the other is Picard).

But some chaos cannot be cornered, tagged and boxed. Some chaos can only be whuffled, which is the word I made up to describe the sensation and action of bottling various fogs. Or the word I thought I had made up until I typed it into a search engine and found it used to describe sniffling, gentle affection and thankless online forum moderation. If we’re going by my definition (not endorsed by the Internet) it’s a feeling that accompanies so much of what we try to set in place. And the more I stared down the “-Ology” shelf, the more I begin to think the whole world is made of whuffle.

Yes, whuffle is verb, adjective and noun. It’s very versatile.

Before the “-Ology” shelf this uncertainty seemed very abstract to me. It came up primarily when considering genre. Is it fantasy just because there are swords? Is it sci-fi just because there are spaceships? Read Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun and get back to me. Welcome back. See what I mean? And that’s before we get into odd-balls like Gabriel Garcia Márquez, Thomas Pynchon, and Margaret Atwood. No wonder people just gave up and invented the term speculative fiction.

The “-Ology” shelf was supposed to be different. It represents entirely separate realms of human knowledge! It’s like a UN of social sciences, each field a tiny nation-state with its own territories and agendas.

But my distinct borders kept getting knocked down. What to do with Typetalk, which purports to be a study of the Myers-Brigg Type Indicator, but has self-help cover language promising to aid in determining how you “live, love and work”? Things only blurred more from there. When is a study on families anthropology and when is it sociology? Are Coping with Difficult People and Coping with Difficult Bosses really so different that they should be three shelves apart, one in sociology, the other in career guidance? ARGH.

So I started fresh, with a new theory. I could arrange the shelf like a continuity. There was a spectrum at play, beginning with psychology: the individual opening up onto the family, expanding into the society, then reaching out to other societies and forms of governance before finally drilling back down into the individual stories each society treasures. Brain to Folklore, with all of human experience in between. Made total sense for like two seconds. But things just got worse. And by the end I had almost convinced myself that Life-Span Developmental Psychology and Normative Life Crises was interchangeable with Folklore in the English and Scottish Ballads.

I look at the shelf now and see nothing but whuffle. No matter how hard we try (I’m looking at you, Dewey, with all your decimals) nothing exists entirely separate and apart. Categories are cool, but they are never definite. All things interlock and nothing is simple. But as maddening and confusing as that can get for the bookshelf organizer, it probably makes for a more interesting world.