Via James Lileks’ new Minneapolis blog, buzz.mn: Don Herbert, better known to my generation as “Mr. Wizard,” has passed away. I hadn’t realized he was a Minnesota native.
I don’t recall that I watched his show a lot. I have an idea I was never sure when it was on, or the station moved it around, or something. But I remember really liking the show when I did see it.
And that wasn’t because of my deep love for science (I possess no such alien commodity). As I remember it, I mostly liked the idea of a smart grownup with a lot of neat toys who never had anything more important to do than explain stuff to kids. There were precious few adults anything like that in my own world.
So now you’re asking, “Well, now that you’re a grownup yourself, are you like that?”
My answer would be to scream and run away at my personal best speed.
Middle-aged, single men are not advised to have anything to do with children if they can help it, in today’s world. This is no great sacrifice in my case, as I really don’t like children much, and can never think of anything to say to them anyway.
Come to think of it, I don’t think we ever saw Mrs. Wizard.
But I’m confident there was one.
Well, I didn’t see today coming.
And I mean that in a good way.
Last night I had one of my insomnia attacks. I lay awake, obsessing between dozes. That’s usually the prelude to a really Huxleyan, semi-comatose work day.
But somehow, when I got up, I felt that today would be different. Taking silent inventory of my thews, sinews and reflexes, I realized I felt pretty good. Somehow I knew that when I got to work I’d catch up on several projects I’d been dogging, and I wouldn’t slip on my diet, and I’d have a good evening walk.
And behold, it came to pass even as I foresaw. All day I felt as if I was looking at things from above, like a grownup, rather than from below, like a helpless kid.
I can think of two explanations.
One is that I’ve been sleeping too much. Maybe God designed me for five hours a night.
The other is that somebody’s been praying for me.
If it’s the second, and you’re the one, thanks.
Lars; if you’re ever at a loss what to say to a child say “tell me a story” or “make up a story about x” (at least when they’re young) Children love to make up stories. You can’t believe the stuff they come up! (I’m not saying Kipling got his famous stories this way; but he might have :=)
– the next time I have insomnia (which will likely be tonight) I’ll see if I can figure out what a ‘Huxleyan, semi-comatose work day’ is. That ought to keep me going for a couple hours :=)
Think “Brave New World.”
I always say, I don’t have an inner child, I have an inner adult. And I don’t let her out very often.
Diet? What diet?
I’ve been working with my inner child lately, and it’s tough sledding. I understand the helpless kid feeling. I’m working against the mean kid feeling too. Do you find that you believe you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you, but when it comes to acting on it you don’t appear to believe it at all?
It’s pretty much a given.
Inner child? Fuggedaboutit. What about your inner monkey?
Yet it’s still true. We can do all things through Him Who gives us strength. We can be made new no matter what pain we carry from the past.
Mr. Wizard was my favorite. I can still do some of his science tricks.
Before we moved to a larger city where people avoid each other, I was the guy all the neighborhood kids came to when they discovered an odd bug or an interesting rock or had another question. My wife has called me Mr.Wizard ever since.
I miss that small town trust.