I find whales fascinating.
When Gradgirl and I went to the Museum of Natural History, I said to her:
Me: You know, they just cleaned it a few years back.
Her: (laughing) I’m always surprised at all these random facts you have.
It being the giant blue whale on the ceiling of the Hall of Ocean Life.
These giants are locked in daily battles of life and death every single day: Three million mind-blowing battles between animals as big as a house on the daily.
Most whales speak to each other at frequencies ranging from 10–39 Hz. But, there a single, solitary whale that speaks at 52Hz. (I’ll call it her just to make it easier to write).
She’s called the loneliest whale in the world.
One. One of her kind.
Basically, scientists record her calling out into the world for friends and her answer’s always the same: Silence. No one can hear or understand her.
I’ve met people like that, who can’t seem to communicate with the rest of the world. The woman in my building’s one of them. There are others.
In my recent clarity – and drinking for several weeks straight will really gum up your brain, lemme tell ya – I realized, with more than a little shame, that I shoulda been more patient with some of these people. One in particular.
I allowed them to get me angry and that’s always a bad deal for everyone. Especially since, in many ways, I struggled to communicate with other people myself, for years.
Anywho, some whales live for 200 years. I hope she isn’t one of them.
Me: There’s another thing about being different.
Him: What’s that?
Me: The loneliness. There are people I keep in my life that I shouldn’t. But I do because they’re the only ones that understand me in some narrow regard. Not being understood is…painful.