It's taken me almost thirty years to realize that I don't think like most people do. That's not a bad thing, but sometimes I'll try to explain a concept that makes perfect sense in my mind that apparently makes no sense in the real world. For instance, a few months ago I tried to relate the concept of wanting to be in "God's flow" to desiring to jump into a storm drain after a huge rain. "Haven't you ever wanted to do that?" I asked the class. Blank stares. It didn't register. But I felt a sense of vindication when we were in Israel and Kelly and I saw a fast moving stream and she said my concept of "God's flow" finally made sense to her. That's why I married her; she gets me. And when she doesn't, she lets me know it. That way I only look like a partial lunatic.

OK, so what was the point of that last paragraph? I needed to admit my personal weirdness so that you understand that I have random thoughts in my head. I sometimes ask questions that no one really cares about. The rest of this post is the result of one of those random questions, so bear with me.

At our house we hang all of our clothes to dry indoors because the fascist neighborhood association won't allow us to have a clothes line. This means we have hangers out the wazoo. Most of them are plastic, but the wire ones a perfect for hanging pants if you use a couple of clothes pins [Kelly taught me the trick when we were first married]. If you're ever over, you're bound to step on one because they're everywhere. So last night as I maneuvered through a mine field of hangers, I thought to myself "I wonder who invented the hanger." It's a genius invention, really. Very practical and it wouldn't have taken a huge budget to mass produce them. I'm sure someone made a killing on it. This morning when I came in I Googled "Who invented the hanger" and I found this website.

Apparently this guy named Albert Parkhouse was angry one winter when he came back to lunch and there were no more coat hooks left; he didn't want to have to lay his nice jacket lying on the floor. He worked in a business where people created inventions out of wire so he grabbed himself some and fashioned himself a hanger for his coat. A couple of months later, the company he worked for applied for a patent on the hanger and Albert, the guy who actually invented it, was never given credit. But when you walk into your closet today, I urge you to give a little shout-out to Big Al, who insured that slobs everywhere have no excuses for throwing their clothes on the floor.

Hang 'em high, my friends.

***By the way, if you've never seen the movie Mommie Dearest, you might not have understood the title of this posting. When we were at Spring Break in Panama City, Florida, a bunch of us college guys watched the movie. Yeah, there wasn't much on TV. But there's a certain scene in it that's just epic, and it has to do with wire hangers. If you know what I'm talking about [and even if you don't], then you must click on this link to this website. I was sadistically laughing to myself for minutes while letting it play. Could be the best website ever.