I consider myself a smart man.
By smart, I mean that when presented with a solvable problem, I can (usually) figure it out.
Give me a physics equation, then, odds are – no. But those aren’t solvable to the normal person on the street.
With a set of plans, I can build stuff.
Or, when something happens, I like to think I can logically follow the sequence of events to figure out both how and why something happens.
But sometimes something happens that bewilders me.
Sometimes something happens that stumps me.
Such a thing happened the other day.
I’ve been stumped.
Stumped.
Puzzled.
Bewildered.
For while there has to be a logical explanation for why something happened, I can’t figure it out.
But something happened on Saturday and I cannot figure out why it happened.
It’s had me thinking of the logical reason – but I can’t put my finger on it.
Ok – here goes ……
I looked it up afterwards and found out that a typical house fly lives for 28 days. But that span might vary depending on temperature and living conditions. Houseflies living in warm homes and laboratories might develop faster and live longer than those that might live in the outside world.
See, something happened to a fly and I can’t figure out why.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like flies.
I find them as annoying as the next guy.
But this time – THIS ONE TIME – I felt sorry for the little guy.
For his life ended and I’m left to question why.
This little guy – he had me thinking all day.
And by all day – yes, literally, ALL DAY.
And even since – I’m still thinking about this fly.
See, I was painting a few rooms and though I had music on, I still kept thinking about this fly and what in the world was he thinking.
Ok – so let me set the scene.
As I mentioned earlier, I was painting.
I had a few rooms to paint, and that included not only the walls and ceiling, but also doors, the trim and baseboards.
Though I was painting indoors, I had taken a few doors off the hinges to touch them up and/or put a new coat of white semi-gloss on each door.
I had the gallon of paint that had the smaller circular opening you could pour out, so you didn’t have to take off the entire lid. I poured some paint into my rolling pan and then set the gallon pan aside while I moved the rolling pan into position.
I went to put the small lid back on and as I bent down to screw the lid on – I was a bit shocked at what I saw.
Right there in the little opening was a fly.
A dead fly.
A fly had fallen/flown into the paint and was now dead.
The paint lid had been off the gallon perhaps 1 minute, maybe more.
For the sake of argument, I’ll say it was open for 90 seconds.
And in that 90 seconds – a fly got into my paint.
I fished him out with a flathead screwdriver and I got him a bit closer and I asked him, “Dude, what the Hell?”
But he did not answer.
He didn’t answer because he was dead.
Plus, he was a fly. That too.
But I started thinking, what happened.
Sure, there is the most likely, he made a mistake and flied into the opening of the gallon of paint.
*Side Note 1 – for the post’s sake, I’ll refer to the fly in the pronouns of he/him.
But what if it wasn’t a mistake.
What if …. Well……
What if the fly thought it was a bowl of milk.
What is the fly had recently been on a rim of a cup of coffee and now needed some milk/cream to go with it.
Okay – maybe slightly lass plausible, but still….
Or – what if he was just tired of the constant swatting and wanted to end it.
Yes, I am suggesting it was fly suicide.
But then I thought, a fly only lives an average of 28 days. What could have possibly gone so wrong that this poor guy couldn’t take it any more?
We don’t know what was going on in this fly’s life.
I’m sure flies have pressure.
Maybe he had had enough.
Or, maybe it was a bit more sinister.
Maybe he was being initiated into a fly “gang” and his gang members forced him to do it.
Or maybe he was pledging a fly fraternity, and this was a hazing.
Or, maybe, it was a simple game of truth or dare.
See. We might never know.
I looked and the back porch where the death took place had no ring camera or other recording device.
CURSES.
So we can’t, “Roll the Tape”.
The possibilities are endless.
I am thinking about trying to contact the writers of any of the CSI television shows to see about making this an episode.
So many possibilities.
Perhaps this fly was leading a “Fly Rebellion? Perhaps he gave am enthralling speech, had his guys behind him, and his last words were, “Who’s With Me!!!” as he dove into the paint can expecting the others to follow – yet none did.
Maybe he had recently been found guilty of a crime in “Fly Court” and this was his punishment.
Maybe he lost his Fly Fantasy Football last year and this was his league’s punishment.
Maybe he was some sort of new wave fly impressionist painter and he planned on immersing himself in paint and then flying into a bed sheet hanging on a clothes line to paint a masterpiece.
Or maybe he was out enjoying the day, just buzzing around and he got a cramp in his wing and fell from the sky into the paint can.
SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.
BUT – what if it wasn’t a suicide or even an accident.
Maybe this fly was the victim of a crime.
Maybe it was ……. Murder …….
This is one we might never know the answer to.
My Take on Life and Events 