squid | The Embiggens Project

Yesterday was my mother’s birthday and she received 45 scratch cards. Seriously. Now, one would think that receiving so many chances to win BIG money would be a good thing. And it was–in the beginning.

The first problem is that some of these game cards are as easy to understand as an Ikea instruction manual in Klingon. And, the play area, itself, has font so infinitesimal that a flea would require a magnifying glass. After just one card, my mother had the eyes of a crack addict.

This man has, obviously, played too much scratch bingo.

And, of course, there is the scratching. My mother has arthritic hands. After one giant monopoly board, she was worse off than Jerry Seinfeld after signing his Japanese royalty cheques.

One can only hope that she wins a huge payoff. If only so she can afford laser eye repair and physiotherapy on her hand.

Which brings me to a whole other concern. Me being me–an OCD neurotic mess–I, immediately, began to worry about her inhalation of so much of that weird scratch-off residue. I mean, what the hell is that stuff made of? Some carcinogenic slurry of road-paint and drywall dust from the floors of a factory in China?

Note to self: Tell mother to wear card-scratching mask.

1) I don’t think I have ever purchased a scratch card for myself. Perhaps, if I lived in one of the Top Five States that spend the most money on scratch cards, I, too, would have succumbed to this addiction.

Massachusetts
West Virginia
Rhode Island
Delaware
New York

In fact, according to MoneyWise, the monies spent in Massachusetts on scratch tickets equate to almost a thousand dollars per adult. It makes sense as this Atlantic coast state (interestingly, a geographical characteristic shared by all five top states) claims to be home of the original instant scratch ticket.

2) I am a fan of Simpsons-esque eyeballs–large and round with the pupil smack-dab in the middle. And, as far as eyes go, I subscribe to a “the bigger the better” school of thought–unless they are simply temporarily enlarged due to a night of scratch card playing or cocaine snorting.

The world’s largest eyeballs belong to the Colossal Squid. These baby blues–or should I say blacks–measure in at 11 inches in diameter. Eyes the size of dinner plates.

My ex-father-in-law had a glass eye that he used to pop out of his head from time-to-time. I’d find it on my chair, my place mat, or other random places. Thankfully, it was small. I can’t imagine finding this thing sitting next to my fork.

Plus, isn’t this squid missing his eyeball? Is he out there somewhere swimming around with a giant eye patch bumping into blue whales and things?

3) According to Marc Okrand, the creator of the Klingon language, roughly 100 people are fluent in this tongue. Is it just me or is this 99 people too many? I remember mastering Ubbi Dubbi as a young child. I thought I had unlocked a secret code–a little kids’ version of the Dead Sea Scrolls. But, for the most part, whenever I uttered something like “Hubellubo! Hubow Ubare Yubou?” people simply looked at me like I was having some type of seizure.

The point that I am trying to make is that I was a child. The adults around me did not pull out their Ubbi Dubbi to English dictionaries and try to decipher my nonsense. They told me to talk like a normal person. Why, then, have 100 grown-up humans gone to great pains to master a language that only 99 other people have mastered? Has no one told them to talk like a normal person?

If you’ve never actually heard a non-Klingon speaking Klingon, you will want to check out this dude rapping in Klingon.