Ok, Geniuses
Saturday morning. I emerge into the dining room. My Dad looks up with a cheerful expression. “Aha!” he says. It’s nice to be appreciated, but before I get a chance to feel too smug, he pulls out the newspaper. Oh, no.
Pop: “What was the greatest gift given to America by France?”
Isaac Asimov’s genius quiz. Groan.
Me: “Statue of Liberty.”
Pop: “That’s what I say, too. Who was famous for crossing the Rubicon?”
Me: “Groan.” (audible) “I need coffee before I can deal with this.”
I continue on into the kitchen. Pop is undaunted.
Pop: “Come on. Who was famous for crossing the Rubicon?”
Me: “Ernő Rubik.”
Pop: “Ernő Rubik?”
Me: (sarcasm) “Oh, wait, he was famous for the Rubik’s Cube.”
Pop: (Brief grin.) “I think it had something to do with Kipling.”
I shrug and pour my coffee.
Pop: “Who ruled Spain from 1939 to 1975?”
Silence.
Pop: “Who was the Soviet leader during the Cuban Missile Crisis?”
I remain silent on this one, letting him have it. He was in the service during the Missile Crisis, after all. Surely he…
Pop: “Gorbachev.”
Me: (Stunned) “Um… Khrushchev.”
Pop: “Ooh, right! Very good.”
Me: “You want to know the impressively intelligent reason I know that answer?”
Pop: “What?”
Me: “When we were growing up, you had that book of political photo cartoons, and Krushchev was in it. It stuck with me.”
Pop grins. Moves on.
Pop: “Who allegedly killed officer JD Tippit?”
I have a vague feeling this is related to the TV show “Dallas.”
Pop: “What country was Leon Trotsky assassinated in?” Silence.
Pop: “During what war did the battle of Jutland take place?” Silence.
Pop: (Looking up at me in disbelief) “Who knows this kind of stuff??”
Me: “What’s worse: knowing it…or not knowing any of it?”
Pop: “We knew the Statue of Liberty.”
Me: “True.”
We continue. We have FAIL. Pop reads the answers. We got the Statue of Liberty right. Oh, and Krushchev. But the Rubicon?
Pop: “Huh. It wasn’t Kipling. Julius Caesar was famous for crossing the Rubicon. I thought he was famous for ‘Nobody sees her like Julius Caesar.’”
Me: (Finally admitting) “I’ve never even heard of the Rubicon!”
Pop: “It’s famous. Julius crossed it.”
Mom walks in the room.
Pop: “Who was famous for crossing the Rubicon?”
Mom: (Blank stare)
Pop: “It’s a river in Italy. Don’t feel bad, I thought it was something Kipling wrote.”
Nobody tell Asimov, okay?
The thinks we don’t know, including as it might be, our parents. But what do they know, anyway? It’s likely they know us as well as we know them, an unavoidable symmetry.
Those questions don’t seem like a good gauge of “genius” to me. But, what do I know?
Hmm. Well, I know how to fix computers, but most of those threw me for a loop. I even wrote a report on Khrushchev back in high school! Shows how much I learned.
What scares me is that I could answer every single one of those.
Trust me, that’s not as scary as not knowing any of them.
Alea iacta est!