Why must I repeatedly say: What’s this?


I feel like I must utter the phrase “what’s this” over 100 times a day. First off, I have to say that quite often to my son. He was recently very eager to show me a drawing he had made. I looked at it and then had to ask “what’s this”?   His drawing included a character holding onto a weapon. I asked why he drew that and he noted that’s the way the character was. Ok. Circular arguments are all the norm with seven year olds these days.

At work, at home, at restaurants and on random hikes, I often find myself asking “what’s this?”  What is going on? I was recently at Napa Valley going from winery to winery. Then we went to Robert Mondavi’s winery. It is usually fairly packed as it is a name that many recognize. I tend to like the wineries on the Sonoma Valley side as those are more personal.  To each his or her own. Some like the chaos of hundreds coming off the tour busses and taking over every nook and cranny of a winery.  As we entered the Mondavi winery estate, I immediately noticed this older gentleman obsessively taking photos of a nude statue in the middle of the Mondavi lawn. He stood there for a good ten minutes taking photographs from every angle. What struck me was that he had a real camera? He was acting as if it was a photo shoot. I could only wonder what was going through his head. I looked around at others to see if anyone else was wondering what this scene was all about. Most others gave him a quick glance and then rushed off to their free wine tasting. sure, I get it. Wine is more important than figuring out what lunacy was going on. As a matter of fact, wine was likely to help with figuring out what was going on.


The other day upon returning to my office, I came across an odd piece of fruit on my desk corner. At first I could not tell what it was. I was frightened. It was an odd fruit. For all I knew it could have been the first step to having pod people in the workplace. Oh wait, that already exists.


There was actually nothing nefarious about it. Someone had sweetly left me a fruit from our community garden.


There are times when asking “what’s this?” is a good thing. Part of the reason, I love going hiking is that I often come across odd things. I like discovering things on a path. My son tends to feel like Indiana Jones.  It’s not a bad thing when my son asks “what’s this?”  His curiosity thrills me to no end. Now that is the right kind of “what’s this” sentiment I want to experience.

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