A walk to collect Riley from preschool involves passing our local cemetery. The other afternoon we were accompanied on this trip by a girlfriend (GF) of Keira’s who was visiting for a play.
This is their conversation.
Keira [with a wave of her arm]: This is the cemetery.
GF: Yes, I can see.
Keira: We come here sometimes.
GF: Why?
Keira: To walk around. Did you know Michael Jackson is buried in a cemetery?
GF: Of course I know.
Keira: But do you know WHERE?
GF: Yes, America.
Keira: Yes.
GF: In a little city they call Los Angeles.
How these girls are so knowledgeable about Michael Jackson is beyond me (although I still remember Riley’s curiosity). I want to say – perhaps because it is the most logical, plausible explanation – it is due to the television and radio; their spongy brains etc. Another part of me wonders if there’s some deeper Jungian personal/collective unconsciousness at work (it was the answer, of course I know).
Now I’ve written that, I’ll probably wonder about it for the rest of the afternoon. I do things like that.
Hardly normal, I realise.
