Don’t like where I’m going with this one? Think it’s something out of some sick Sci-Fi thriller starring Donald Sutherland alongside alien pods… with extra soy sauce?
Well, my little Food Network freak, you’re way off base.
Only Pro-Lifers need apply on this little nugget of bullion from Scientific American.
It just so happens that the little cluster of cells growing inside a mommy’s tummy isn’t just some inanimate nuisance that might get in the way of that long-desired promotion down at the plant.
Here. Let me quote the article. “The link between a mother and child is profound, and new research suggests a physical connection even deeper than anyone thought.”
Yup. Apparently scientists have discovered children’s cells inhabiting mothers’ brains. Body-snatching? Nah. Just natural science. Just the mystery and beauty of life and creation, as only the Creator could design.
And it doesn’t stop there. The folks in the ultra-white lab coats also believe that cellular transference through nursing may be occurring every time a babe takes to teat. As if life-sustaining nutrients weren’t enough.
Like I said. Un-freakin’-believable. Or, something like that.
Crazy stuff… crazy…
Oh yeah! The Chinese food reference. Almost forgot.
So, I finish reading the article and immediately Paul Simon’s “Mother and Child Reunion” pops into my brain. For yours truly, it’s always been one of those songs in which I expected to find some profound, hidden message extolling the relational beauty between mother and pre-born babe. I mean, heck, one should expect to glean such depth from the lyrical majesty that is one half of arguably the greatest folk music duos of all-time. Right? Right?
EEEEHHHHH! (game-show buzzer sound) Wrong.
Upon research, it was revealed to me that the germination of said ditty came from an experience at a Chinese restaurant. Mr. Simon was digging on a chicken and eggs dish called “Mother and Child Reunion”. He told Rolling Stone in 1972, “Oh, I love that title. I gotta use that one.”
That’s it. I’m not kidding. No underlying theme connecting mommies to their burgeoning bumps, with a reggae back-beat.
“And the course of a lifetime runs… over and over again.”
Lyrical gold… wasted, on a bed of fried rice.