We live in a world where there are more questions than answers. It's almost as if it was designed that way.
Not that I want to get into a design question. That's a level of depth this shallow pool of a column could never reach. But I will say it's kind of like the designer gave us a lot of questions with no answers to challenge us to find the answers ourselves.
One could stretch that idea pretty far. If we're all to find the answers ourselves, could it be the answers are different for each person, each situation, each era?
Okay, I think I just blew my own mind.
Which is pretty funny because this idea came up because there's a question that's been in my head lately that I can't seem to shake. You know how it is when you have a dilemma and it's eating at you like chiggers on your ankles.
I've always questioned everything. I'm not sure why or who scarred me this way. My skepticism never endeared me to my Sunday school teachers or any of the folks who try to convince me of something because their cousin heard it at work.
I've always liked to think knowledge breeds skepticism. The more you know, the more you're going to question those things that just don't sound right. People love to say if you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything.
The truth is, if you don't know something, you'll fall for anything. I'm reminded of this every time an old high school pal who failed general science class tries to tell me man made climate change is a hoax. Or that Covid-19 is no worse than the flu.
That same guy will tell me God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.
There's no way to explain to that guy who couldn't pass general science that the medical community, thanks to chromosome research and genome mapping, recognizes gender and sexuality aren't nearly as binary as certain preachers and politicians wish it were. That won't stop them from passing bad legislation based on no science.
But I've digressed this entire column. The whole point of this thing is to explain that there's a question that's been riding me like a bronco on a cowboy. I can't shake it for the life of me, although I think I know the answer.
For weeks, no...make that for months, we've been hearing the same thing over and over from news sources. It's been like a drone, a loud roaring, a siren wail that doesn't seem to end.
I've heard it from talking heads on the television and disembodied voices on the radio and from countless articles shared in social media. But no matter how many times I see the same story, I'm left wondering...what?
What is the question that has kept me up at night? What is this deep dilemma that has driven me to such thoughts? Well, my friends, it's one that I'm positive most of you have pondered in those quiet moments alone.
Without further ado, here it is my friends. The biggest question on my mind for weeks has been:
Where are the cicadas?