259 -- I Don't Understand
It was the beginning of a long case. A long case, which at best, could be described at the very least as…strange.
A grown man, found dead in his office…
dressed in a cheerleader’s outfit.
Jordan shook her head as she looked across the body of the so-called big time TV producer-come-cheerleader into Woody’s eyes. “I just don’t understand…I mean I’ve…We’ve seen some weird stuff in our time, but this…”
“Is the weirdest,” Woody finished solemnly. “I think he should have left well enough alone and stuck with what he knew best.”
“Producing crime dramas?”
Woody nodded. “At least that didn’t get him killed.”
Jordan shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to be a cheerleader all his life.”
A snort was her reply. “Yeah, and I’ve always wanted to pitch for the Sox, too, but you don’t see that happening.”
She chuckled softly as she finished her preliminary exam of the body. “No, I don’t see that happening. You’d be laughed out of Fenway.”
“See, that’s what I mean. He should have stuck with what he did best. What worked. Not what might work. I mean, this guy possessed no superpowers that would magically,” Woody paused and inserted air quotes at this point, “turn
him into a cheerleader.”
“And that’s another thing I don’t understand,” Jordan continued, now scrapping under the man’s fingernails for DNA samples, although it was pretty clear the guy hung himself on his own dreams and rope, “I don’t understand why men always try to pretend to be something they’re not.”
Woody shot her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re a doctor. You should understand this better than anyone else.”
Jordan was a smart woman and something deep inside her told her it would be the wisest thing in the world to walk away from this and not listen to Woody’s explanation. But she was curious. What did her Farmboy think he had one-upped her on?
“Ooookkkkkkaaaaaayyyyy,” she drawled out softly. “I know I’m gonna regret this, but I’ll bite. What makes men act the way they do?”
Leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, Woody began. “Four out of five children born with autism are boys, and there is a reason for that. Every day more evidence is surfacing that the male brain is constructed similarly to an autistic brain.”
Well, his statistics were right. She’d buy that. Nodding, she replied, “Yes, go on…”
“People with autistic brains compartmentalize things more than those with average brains, and they find it difficult to empathize with or read other people's emotions. Additionally, it is often difficult to read what is going on in their brains, because they are not on the same level emotionally as those without autism.”
“Well, that explains a lot…”
Woody knew he might be digging his own grave, but doggedly he continued. “Men - some men, mind you - are not tapped into the same emotional vibration that those around them are tapped into, and therefore they frequently seem to be out of touch. They don't seem to get it....”
Jordan grunted. Woody wasn’t sure if she was agreeing with him and Mr. Cheerleader-Businessman, but she looked like she might be…at least on some level. She cleared her throat.
“So, in other words,” she said, “the more male a person’s brain is, the more problems he has. So this means that male-brained individual will find it difficult or sometimes impossible to empathize with and truly understand the feelings of those around him. You could say it's really not his fault he doesn't understand. He is simply emotionally challenged.”
“Bingo.”
For a moment Jordan’s eyes flickered between Woody and the dead man on the gurney in front of her. “So in other words….”
“He was totally clueless. He actually thought he might be successful with some other kind of TV show, or thought his viewers needed to be taught how to watch TV. But in the end, the cheerleader couldn’t save the world, much less him.”
Jordan nodded. “Well…that explains it. ”
“Yep. He couldn’t see the forest for the trees.”
Woody Hoyt
Crossing Jordan
684 Words
A grown man, found dead in his office…
dressed in a cheerleader’s outfit.
Jordan shook her head as she looked across the body of the so-called big time TV producer-come-cheerleader into Woody’s eyes. “I just don’t understand…I mean I’ve…We’ve seen some weird stuff in our time, but this…”
“Is the weirdest,” Woody finished solemnly. “I think he should have left well enough alone and stuck with what he knew best.”
“Producing crime dramas?”
Woody nodded. “At least that didn’t get him killed.”
Jordan shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to be a cheerleader all his life.”
A snort was her reply. “Yeah, and I’ve always wanted to pitch for the Sox, too, but you don’t see that happening.”
She chuckled softly as she finished her preliminary exam of the body. “No, I don’t see that happening. You’d be laughed out of Fenway.”
“See, that’s what I mean. He should have stuck with what he did best. What worked. Not what might work. I mean, this guy possessed no superpowers that would magically,” Woody paused and inserted air quotes at this point, “turn
him into a cheerleader.”
“And that’s another thing I don’t understand,” Jordan continued, now scrapping under the man’s fingernails for DNA samples, although it was pretty clear the guy hung himself on his own dreams and rope, “I don’t understand why men always try to pretend to be something they’re not.”
Woody shot her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re a doctor. You should understand this better than anyone else.”
Jordan was a smart woman and something deep inside her told her it would be the wisest thing in the world to walk away from this and not listen to Woody’s explanation. But she was curious. What did her Farmboy think he had one-upped her on?
“Ooookkkkkkaaaaaayyyyy,” she drawled out softly. “I know I’m gonna regret this, but I’ll bite. What makes men act the way they do?”
Leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, Woody began. “Four out of five children born with autism are boys, and there is a reason for that. Every day more evidence is surfacing that the male brain is constructed similarly to an autistic brain.”
Well, his statistics were right. She’d buy that. Nodding, she replied, “Yes, go on…”
“People with autistic brains compartmentalize things more than those with average brains, and they find it difficult to empathize with or read other people's emotions. Additionally, it is often difficult to read what is going on in their brains, because they are not on the same level emotionally as those without autism.”
“Well, that explains a lot…”
Woody knew he might be digging his own grave, but doggedly he continued. “Men - some men, mind you - are not tapped into the same emotional vibration that those around them are tapped into, and therefore they frequently seem to be out of touch. They don't seem to get it....”
Jordan grunted. Woody wasn’t sure if she was agreeing with him and Mr. Cheerleader-Businessman, but she looked like she might be…at least on some level. She cleared her throat.
“So, in other words,” she said, “the more male a person’s brain is, the more problems he has. So this means that male-brained individual will find it difficult or sometimes impossible to empathize with and truly understand the feelings of those around him. You could say it's really not his fault he doesn't understand. He is simply emotionally challenged.”
“Bingo.”
For a moment Jordan’s eyes flickered between Woody and the dead man on the gurney in front of her. “So in other words….”
“He was totally clueless. He actually thought he might be successful with some other kind of TV show, or thought his viewers needed to be taught how to watch TV. But in the end, the cheerleader couldn’t save the world, much less him.”
Jordan nodded. “Well…that explains it. ”
“Yep. He couldn’t see the forest for the trees.”
Woody Hoyt
Crossing Jordan
684 Words