#1110 Bloody Lemmings

It’s funny. We go through life convincing ourselves we’re the great individuals. The American Way. The pioneer spirit. The solitary hawk. The lone ranger.
It’s the mystique of our culture, and the goal of everyone from Harley riders, to truck-nut sporting Ford 250 jockeys, to D&D role-playing computer nerds.
And then we are reminded what lemmings we all are. Someone yawns. And we race off the cliff of oblivion on the tail of our herd instinct.
You’re in a group, and someone yawns. Suddenly, hard as you try to suppress it, you feel the urge to yawn yourself. The power of suggestion is so strong, you’re probably trying not to yawn and failing right now...
yawn...
I was reading a science article on the phenomenon the other day and the writer said the scientific word for it is “involuntary pandiculation.” Pandiculation. I’m not sure if it means acting with the herd or yawning, but what a cool new word if it does.
I’m not yawning, I’m pandiculating.
I like to think I’m an individual too. Then something like yesterday happens. I go to get a blood test and I arrive first thing. As I approach the door to the lab there are already 2 people in front of me. Dang. I get in line.
There’s also a newspaper stuck in the push-bar of the door. You can make out people inside under the blinds. They can’t see out. We can only see their hands at their desks.
Another person arrives. He gets in line behind me. We all wait patiently for another five minutes. We are patients, after all.
And then we get impatient, as it’s obvious that the office is now 7 minutes late in opening. Suddenly, with a sigh of exasperation, the second person in line goes up to the door and tries it.
It opens.
The first person had assumed the newspaper indicated the office was locked and never tried the door. The rest of us assumed whoever was in front knew something we didn’t.
We all assumed and got 7 minutes of our lives thrown into a yawning hole of oblivion.
I felt, um, pandiculated.America, ya gotta love it.