100,000 Celebration. Don't Read This Post

Earlier today, I was contemplating celebrating my 100,00th visit to one of my (several) blogs by publishing a list of current and previous obsessions.  I am a bit OCD-ish, but I decided that the list might merely be yet another manifestation of obsession, so I nixed the idea.  I doubt that many people, other than me, are interested in my obsessions.  It would have been my little twist on the "100 things about me" list that you see on people's blogs. 

I'm not sure this post is a celebration, but it's a topic that's been on my mind over the weekend and for at least the past 30 years (another example of obsession).  I took an online test last week (from the BBC, I believe) that informed me I'm one of only 14 percent of the population (world-wide, I suppose, but how exactly would they know?) who can utilize both sides of my brain equally effectively.  I think this trait is one of the reasons others believe they're like me or I'm like them.  I'm moderately adept and comfortable on any playing field.

This news is about as exciting to me as the consistent results of my IQ tests.  Why?  Why is it so important that I'm in the top 1% of the population in intelligence and the 14 percent who can use both sides of my brain?  Beats the hell out of me.

I read biographies of many absolutely brilliant people.  If they've been lucky enough not to have been geniuses in obscurity, I've read (or marvelled at the artistry of)  some of their works.  I've known some personally, the kind of individuals whose thought processes take your breath away.  Quite a few  of them (both now and long ago)  are also absolutely insane or so wildly intelligent that other people find them strange and maybe even a little scary.  A goodly portion  are dead or hopelessly addicted to drugs of one kind or another.  Too much intellectual giftedness can be a dangerous thing.

High intelligence doesn't translate into big earning power, despite what your mom and teachers might have told you.  It certainly doesn't get you lots of friends, unless you're a Mensa type.  You know what they like to do?  I've noted that many posted get-togethers are centered around solving those act-it-out mystery events.  You know, one genius pretends to kill another genius, then all of the rest of the gaggle of geniuses try to figure out who the killer was.  Yeah.  Knock your socks off fun. 

When I was 18 and was officially told about that 1% thing, I was stunned.  It finally put to rest the suspicion that I'd entertained for years that I might be a little bit retarded.  I have no idea why I thought that, but I remember asking my mom about it.  She told me not to be ridiculous, but you know how mothers are.  I thought perhaps she was either confused herself or was keeping it a secret from me so I wouldn't feel completely worthless.  In my childhood, stupid equalled useless. 

One of the many problems with intelligence testing is that there are many types of intelligence that simply aren't measured.  I just happen to fit the mold.  There are have been many research studies that point to cultural biases, though the culture I grew up in certainly didn't include much logic-oriented or even aesthetic training.  I did my best to cultivate those things, beginning when I was very young.  Hey, I wanted to get the hell out of that dark place and never, ever go back.  Knowledge seemed like the ticket to ride.  And it was, to some extent.

Ultimately, for many years now, I've concluded that high intelligence, as measured on those tests, is good for only one thing:  entertainment value.  I'm always entertained.  There are very few subjects I won't give more than a passing glance.  I'm definitely a dabbler, though.  I know a little about a lot of things.  Nonetheless, no matter how boring my job is or how boring my companionship, I can always find something of interest.  I can sense it intuitively or understand it analytically.

When you work in Crazy Land, maybe you have to find something to cheer yourself up with.  When your husband refuses to get a job or clean the house or be useful in any of those normal adult ways, you're grateful that you're smart enough to find him intellectually stimulated (as he most certainly is).  For me, the numbers do it every time.

Thanks to everyone who finds me interesting enough to stop by from time to time.  That 100,00 number is like  those I cited previously:  gratifying down to the very marrow of my bones.