On Rec Leagues
The other day I asked my wife, “If I could read all your thoughts, would I think of you differently?”
We were having a picnic on a Scottish beach, eating bread and cheese during an unseasonably warm March afternoon. I’d been thinking thoughts and analyzing those thoughts, and I couldn’t help but conclude: If she knew what I was thinking, she’d think I’m such a simpleton.
I wasn’t thinking smart thoughts about the geology of the sea cliffs, or sentimental thoughts about