Philosophy.

The manner of human expression that allows people to get jobs by simply pondering various ideas.

I’ve always wondered about those people who come away from college with philosophy majors or minors. How does one even come to the conclusion to get a degree in deep thought?

I’ve had plenty of deep thoughts in my life, but I can’t image anybody paying me to hear my ideason the make up of the universe.

To be fair, I’m not railing against those people, I just don’t understand how a philosophy degree enters into the world of job pursuit.

I apply for a job, therefore I am?

I’m certainly not taking away from the importance of philosophy. One look at the headlines everyday tells you we could all use a little more pondering in the world and less talking.

Philosophy definitely has its place. Who hasn’t wondered what “that” is in Meat Loaf’s song “I Would Do Anything for Love?” It’s a deep question if for no other reason than it would give us at least one answer for the talented singer, especially if we can’t get an answer as to why the name “Meat Loaf?”

Whether there is a need for philosophy is a philosophical debate for another time. One will always have their own answer for the nature of philosophy. What I will argue, however, is there is a distinct time for philosophy and that time is most certainly not when one is trying to sleep.

This occurred to me, most annoyingly, Tuesday night. I had just watched the Twins squander yet another lead in a distinctly Minnesota way.

In fact, that is a philosophical question in and of itself. What exactly is Twins pitching? Is a Twins pitcher even a pitcher in so much as he is vehicle for hitter’s stats?

Why am I Minnesota fan?

All very viable questions, harkening all the way back to the 1991 World Series, where a similar Twins philosophical question still grips the world today. What came first? Ron Gant’s stumble or Kent Hrbeck’s push.

But the Twin’s ability to remain the Twins is something for another time. For now, we simply examine the reasons of why I am laying in bed at 1 a.m. wondering “What is Love?” Not because I need to know what love is, but because I was now singing Haddaway’s “What is Love?” in my own head.

And now you are too. You’re welcome.

I was certainly tired. There was no question about that. Watching the Twins pitchers compete to see who could allow the longest double to the Yankees was exhausting and I was yawning in betwen every other yawn. That’s a lot of yawning.

I was more than ready for bed and yet when I laid down waiting for blessed sleep I began to have questions, first among them regarding our fan.

I’m a fan sleeper. Over the years I’ve discovered that I sleep better when the fan is blowing. This night, however, I began to wonder if it was too cold and in the midst of trying to determine the end game of that question began to wonder if the fan is generating it’s own stream of air or is it simply recycling the air in the room?

This ultimately led to a string of incredibly inane questions. Staring at the face of my clock on the dresser, I wondered if it could be considered to be staring back at me?

Who has those thoughts? They aren’t even logical philosophical questions and that says a lot considering how wide of a scope philosophy can be.

And yet there I lay, tired and wondering things that have never entered my mind before.

I ultimately fell asleep with these questions tangled in broken knots within my head, no closer to an answer to anything than I was before attempting to fall asleep.

Heck, the next morning I’m not even sure what a large majority of those questions were, so were they even thoughts? Does a bear …. well you get the idea.

So after a night of restlessness, I come away with just one thought that perhaps is paramount to an easy state of mind.

It’s hard being a Twins fan.