rain and sky

You wouldn’t think something so stupid and childish as blowing bubbles can let you in on the secrets of the universe.

First, let me admit, yes, I am too old to be blowing bubbles. But it’s fun! Especially when I would be sitting outside chain-smoking instead. It’s a much better alternative, right?

So, there I was, enjoying the 70 degree and sunny weather on the back patio, when I noticed a large bottle¹ of peppermint-scented bubbles on the table. I wandered over to a plastic rubbermaid basket that contains the rest of my bubble-related toys² and picked my favorite, awesome small circle bubble wand and matching dish, and decided to see if these peppermint bubbles were sufficiently peppermint-y.

Turns out they were, and that’s a good thing, because as the wind shifted directions the drippage off the wand and my own bubbles came back to ATTACK me. I ended up wearing quite a lot of soap stains, and began playing bubble samurai/ninja, slicing them in half with the wand I used to create them. As I began my bubble slaying, I was reminded of a revelation I had last summer while blowing bubbles³.

As I experimented with creating larger bubbles and seeing how many could stay intact at one point in time, I began to compare the bubbles to people. The larger ones became rich people with lots of worldly possessions. I imagined them to be corporate executives and pop stars. The medium-sized ones became well-off enough people. They were people that had worked desk jobs and had climbed the corporate ladder. They had savings and nice cars, and lived in good parts of town. The smallest ones that had many doppelgangers surrounding them became poor or common people, with nothing really to call their own. I imagined them to be my friends and family, and all the people I’ve ever known. They were nurse aides and supermarket bag boys, they lived in small houses with just enough money to keep the lights on and buy some food.

The large bubbles rarely last long, especially when it’s windy. Their extra weight usually keeps them low to the ground and they often run directly into grass or sticks. Sometimes they burst right on the wand, not having enough bubble substance to ever truly form. If the large ones have “friends”⁴, they survive the shortest of any bubbles. They are so heavy, they’re lucky to make it any significant distance away from me.

The medium-sized bubbles with a few contemporaries are fairly light and have a strange tendency to blow right past sticks and grass when it’s windy. They are capable of flying the highest and surviving the longest. Though, many of their smaller companions tend to burst around them before the last one of the medium-sized bubbles flies out of sight.

The smallest bubbles are very common, and don’t have enough bubble substance to survive long. They tend to run into obstacles quickly, and disappear the quickest out of any bubbles that manage to escape into the sky.

And there I am in the middle of this, holding a bubble wand, creating these different types of bubbles, each unique, but destined for a short, pretty life before they burst. And suddenly, in the heat of the summer of 2007, I realized that human civilization was represented around me in such an innocuous thing as bubbles. Bubbles. We’re nothing but pretty little blips that fade as quickly as we’re created.

As I continued to defend myself from the stray bubbles that would turn on me, I realized that as the bubbles tried to leave big soapy marks on me, it was like I was playing God with them. I was smiting those that got too close to me, too close to ultimate knowledge, while leaving the others alone to bemusedly watch them fade as quickly as they began. I, the bubbles mighty creator,⁵ was suddenly not just an idiot who was too old for this playing like a child in her backyard. I was understanding life.

Every time I blow bubbles now, I remember my little revelation, and take extra care in choosing which ones to destroy, and take extra delight in watching the smallest ones.

Idiocy Explained:

1. 32 ounces! And I ended up wearing at least 1 ounce…XD [↩]
2. I KNOW! I’m lame and really dorky and-…yeah. I know. [↩]
3. Just so you know, it’s not something I do every day.  It’s pretty rarely, when I’m absolutely that bored and want to see something shiny. [↩]
4. Other half-formed bubbles sticking to them. [↩]
5. *gigglefit* Oh, ego…you amuse me. [↩]