Swimming in the shallows

      I used to be deep. No, really. In high school, I read -- on my own, not being forced to read them by a teacher -- the novels of Ayn Rand, Ernest Hemingway, Balzac and others. I devoured these huge books by the dozen, and my razor-sharp mind understood them. (And they were huge books; none of those authors had ever heard of editing for length and would be offended by the idea. A lot of words are in English, and they intended to use them all, sometimes in a single sentence.) Now I am lucky if I can make it through an episode of Scooby-Doo without getting confused.
      I don't know how it happened. I was still deep in college. People would comment about it. When I started talking, they would invariably say, "It's getting deep in here." I found other deep people there, and it was nothing unusual for us to spend hours discussing socioeconomic issues of modern life and whether or not our Student Assistant was dating the head of the cheerleaders.
      But after leaving college, I began swimming in the shallows, and my mind began to go. I don't know where it went. I suspect it's on a beach in Aruba.
      For the most part, I haven't missed my mind. It was inconvenient, always bringing up things that it shouldn't, particularly during Presidential elections. Of course, I can't do math, but I couldn't do that when it was here so it didn't seem like I had lost much.
      In fact, I was content until a few months ago when I chanced on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" I knew what the show was, but I had never watched it. I was immediately hooked. In case you aren't familiar, the host asks a contestant various questions, and with each correct answer, the contestant wins more money, up to a million dollars. Ah, $1,000,000. That's such a pretty number. I could just stare at it all day. Wait, where was I? Yes, I recall. The evil codfish had attacked the fortress of the fruit bats ... No, wait, that's not it. The evil fruit bats had attacked the fortress of the codfish. It's easy to get those two confused because they are so much alike, one being a flying mammal and the other being a fish. See?
      Anyway, the first questions on the Millionaire show are easy: Which of these is a fruit? A. Tomato B. Lettuce C. Spinach D. Rush Limbaugh. (The answer is tomato, but the overwhelming impulse is to pick Limbaugh.) Who invented the telegraph? A. Isaac Newton B. Galileo C. Copernicus D. Samuel Morse. (The answer is Morse. Newton invented fig newtons; Galileo and Copernicus were rock singers.) Easy, easy.
      But as the questions progress, they get harder until the million dollar question which is something like this: What is the atomic weight of lead? A. 2 B. 207 C. 512 D. 141. What excited me about this is that it happened to be something I knew. The atomic weight of lead is 207. So there I was, yelling the correct answer at the TV. And when he said, "D," I groaned and did a frustration dance. While it was the most exercise I had done all week, something is wrong when you get that involved in a game show. I realized I had lost my depth.
      Some people don't mind being shallow. They revel in it and end up in a political office or watching reruns of Baywatch. I, however, vowed to fight my mental decline. I immediately went to the library and checked out three of the heaviest books I could find. I had to have a strapping library aide carry them to the car for me, and even she had a bead of sweat on her forehead when she finished. I also decided to watch more Public Television, at least the week they show good shows to entice you to give them money.
      But other than Public Television, I will cut back on my TV time. That should save me at least 30 minutes a day, and I never liked the news, anyway. Except for that blonde newswoman who has a nice smile and lovely eyes but also has a wedding ring so I don't like her after all.
      And I will use the most potent wisdom I know for regaining your intelligence, a secret passed down by the ancients, a secret I will now share with you, something that will make you a genius and allow you to balance your checkbook forever!
      Oops, gotta go. Baywatch is on.