Poem- “Are You Calling Me a Whale?”

“Are You Calling Me a Whale?”

Are you calling me a whale?

Wow!

You are using the wrong nickname for me.

I am not a whale.

I am a bear.

I am a bear, not a “whale”.

You silly goose…

Nobody I know ever calls me a whale.

Yes, I know.

I have a big belly.

My friends and family talk about my big belly sometimes.

But, I am not a “whale”.

I am a bear.

There is a BIG difference.

Don’t you forget it.

Nicknames are irrational and symbolic.

But, at least nicknames do have very unique meanings for social behavior.

Let me explain the nicknames bear and “whale” and make you understand it better:

A bear is basically a fat player who does active exercise every week.

He (or she) does exercise a great deal every week, even if he (or she) has a “big hand”.

A “whale” is more like a very fishy, stationary intellect.

My mom was a whale.

She was doing her job on the computer for very long hours every week.

It was hard work on the computer, but it was mostly just busy and complicated.

She could not exercise that much anymore because she was disabled with a bad knee.

My mom also had a lot of struggle putting on her rough shoes and getting distant tools.

I loved her very much.

She was my role model for education and learning.

She was very smart; in fact, she was a very nerdy, intellectual nurse at the hospital.

She was a lot more physically active when she was a young dork.

Unfortunately, she got into an accident at a restaurant and lost her knee’s mobility.

It was really sad for all of us and our family helped her as much as we could.

Yes, she was a whale, but she was a very beautiful, wonderful mama bear.

For some unknown reason, she did not know how to play videogames.

Almost every videogame was unplayable for her.

She did play some Pac-Man during college.

But, for the most part, videogames in general were just absurd doodles to her.

Even making Mario jump would take her 2 minutes and she would lose immediately.

She was very scientific, but not very creative.

However, during her lifetime, she did complete over 500 1,000-pieces puzzles in boxes.

The puzzles in boxes were beautiful pictures that she could organize jigsaws together for.

Compared to “playing videogames”, her puzzle hobby was infinitely more difficult.

I was never very good at putting cardboard jigsaws together for more than 13 minutes.

Solving cardboard puzzles requires so much patience and time, it’s almost like golfing.

It could take my mom over a week to solve a big, giant puzzle with more than 1,000 pieces.

Watching her put together a big, giant puzzle was like watching a doctor perform surgery.

It’s not gameplay; it’s restrictively intellectual and mindnumbingly logical.

Most Nintendo fans would just look at her impossible craft and run away screaming.

She was never crazy; but, her pedantic concentration skills were unbearable to me sometimes.

Coming to her consciousness was like reaching out to a dull technical operator.

Her mind was probably made of heavy rocks.

I could never become as educated as she was.

I have autism, attention deficit, and erratic mental disorder.

I did look at a practice test that was required for hospital workers years ago.

But, the math skills necessary for hospital work were far beyond commonplace infinites.

Normal videogame reviewers would fail to apply for hospital work.

To be a doctor, or, to be a nurse, you must be a genius in emotionless technical matter.

Imagination is never the key to hospital work and is best avoided.

My imagination keeps going and going and it never stops.

I cannot be dull and stationary to any technical matter in the world.

But, I can walk for long distances and lift weights with my arms and legs.

My mom was more of the “getting comfortable in her skin” kind of mother.

She needed to be comfortable for the intellectual stress at work.

Believe it or not, intellect is harder on the human body than physical exercise.

Or, when she was feeling pain in her knee, she needed her own personal tolerance.

I loved her.

For our memories at the beach in Ventura, she will always be our mother whale.

https://www.deviantart.com/gameuniverso/art/Are-You-Calling-Me-a-Whale-1012963339