I like pie. You may, too…it’s just fruit. Oh, and a little flour and sugar, two of the deadly great whites. It’s a self-delusion to hide behind, to say that pie is just fruit. I can’t stand behind anything because my body’s plump. It’s the berries – not.
There’s also Pi: “pie are not square; pie are round”, a line from one of my dad’s favorite jokes – and ‘The Life of Pi’, the movie. Math figures in both. I’m as good at math as I am at pie. In mathematics you don’t understand things. You just memorize, manipulate, and accept what’s irrefutable – the facts.
A friend’s husband once said, “I like the concept of people…and then the real people step into play.” Kind of like the concepts of math, though numbers can be manipulated and people should not be… People are to be loved and not used. If only, please.
Einstein famously defined Crazy as trying the same things over and over again and expecting a new outcome. Ever the optimist and fast-forgetter, that’s how I go through life. Sort of like a clown never expecting the pie in the face, launched by others who masquerade as people we like, and who like us. Funny – not.
That’s why I need/want to stand with my husband. Today is his birthday. He likes pumpkin pie. I think I’ll go make him one. I ride safe as Cinderella in her coach when I am with him, so the aphorism comes full circle, like a pie. I’ll keep him around. Life is fruitful with him. We are dancing at the ball.
I like people pie:
a crumbly, stumbly rumble
topped by honey of a man
n. A haiku on the theme of the mathematical constant pi. Also: piku. [pi + haiku.]