Tasmanian Devils

When was the last time you thought about a Tasmanian Devil? While sipping soup, I am reading the "Vows" column of the New York Times Sunday Style section (a secret vice). I am deep into the shallow story of the romance and marriage of a self-described failed florist, daughter of dysfunctional parents, afflicted with ADD and a divorced, emotionally confused editor of commercials and I come across the quote calling the woman a Tasmanian Devil. At the same moment, my TV in the background teases a story to come about saving real Tasmanian Devils from a terrible mouth disease caught in the wild. Ah ha I think, two references about Tasmanian Devils within a millisecond, this must be an omen of some kind. Forget that the habit of eating while reading with the TV on in the background reeks of a Tasmanian frenzy of multi-tasking. It is only multi-tasking light. None of it takes much concentration. The reading material is always light and shallow. The "Vows" column is great for this. I love this vacuous stuff about people and their muddled romances and messy personal lives. Soup is pretty easy to eat blindfolded and TV filled with 3 minute fluff about nature doesn't require a zoology PhD. But why did I hear the words Tasmanian Devil twice in a millisecond? Did anyone else on the planet have this same experience at this same moment? What is one supposed to do with this obvious Tasmanian Devil alert? Repeat the words Tasmanian Devil over and over again until the meaning is revealed? Perhaps run about wildly in a poor imitation of the real animal? Send money to the Tasmanian Devil rescue group in Australia? Can one ever know what the occassional collision of words within earshot signifies? As random as the flight of a nighthawk, words come together and fall apart. It is just water flowing and ebbing. Music rises and falls in the sound. Tasmanian Devil Tasmanian Devil Tasmanian Devil Tasmanian Devil copyright 2009 vickers