I was joking with someone yesterday and they said, “Your mind just goes a mile a minute, doesn’t it?” I said something like, Boy Howdy! without really committing to it because I’m not really sure how fast my mind goes, I don’t think it’s ever been clocked. If your mind ever gets pulled over, I don’t think you’re supposed to admit how fast it was going anyway – let the mind police earn their money.
I was actually going to say something about how Yes, my mind did go a predictable 60 miles per hour, ha ha!, which a mile a minute must work out to be, but then they probably would have something else about my mind and I was still processing the first thing they said.
Then later, instead of sleeping, I was thinking about that phrase and I realized how important the context would have to be. Like if your mind was being compared to a riding lawnmower, 60mph sounds terribly ineffective for a little lot like I live on, you’d be constantly on the verge of out-of-control and tearing up the ground and running into trees and destroying all your plastic flamingos. (And topiary!!!) On the other hand, if your mind was on the freeway, in New Mexico the speed limit on freeways is often 75, and about the only way you’d drive 60 is if you were in a poorly maintained air-cooled VW squareback driving up the steep ascent of La Bajada which is well over a mile in elevation.
Maybe all minds go a mile a minute, and they were just saying to me, “The speed at which your mind operates has a high correlation to the speed at which most other minds operate!” And my average-ass mind would just say something like Boy Howdy! because it was still mulling the words “high” and “correlation” and what they might mean so close together in a sentence.
I had a lot of other thoughts about it for a long time and after a while, I heard myself say to myself, “Your mind is just going a mile a minute, isn’t it?”
Checkmate. (Although not really.)