Why are Pinecones Stupid?
I would wager that the majority of people rarely give pinecones much thought at all. If you’ve spent even a few seconds on this page, you will notice that we have selected a pinecone as our logo, our title, our domain name, our email address, and there are pictures everywhere. What’s with all the damn pinecones, already?
As it turns out, pinecones are wrought with symbolism in many eastern religions and are representative of human enlightenment, resurrection, eternal life, and regeneration. We here at Chez Ryan would love to claim this level of intelligent thought or even possess an ounce of faith that might align our obsession with pinecones to some deeper meaning. However, we would not be the “us” you have come to know and love if we suddenly started spouting eastern mysticism and transcendentalism. As it is right now, many of you are wondering how much research I had to do to get this far in the blog already…which is a little cruel considering I am quite the wordsmith and often score well on Jeopardy.
Reality being what it is, though, the true origin of the Ryan’s obsession with pinecones started back in 2007. As most of you know, Brent and I have been friends since high school - you know back with the year had “19” in front of it instead of “20”. I had a crush on him back then, but he only had eyes for other girls (likely the result of my resplendent unibrow). However, in the magical years that started with “20” the internet became more and more popular and us Gen X’ers found ways to reconnect with long lost friends. We happened across each other on MySpace (okay, fine…I stalked him) and sent him a message. It wasn’t long until he noticed that I had FINALLY mastered the art of tweezers and was now the proud owner of two eyebrows instead of one, and we decided to schedule a visit.
Of course I was already smitten, but was a little unsure of the situation. I was a single mom with a divorce under my belt, he was a 30 year old virgin (you’re welcome for sharing that part baby) and we were talking about dating. It was surreal. I traveled up to Michigan and drove up to his house in my rented mini-van. I got out and was walking up the sidewalk toward his front door wearing my best pair of platform sandals (very popular in the 90s and I was clearly not up on the latest trends). Long story longer, I stumbled on some pinecones that were on the sidewalk which resulted in my foot slipping off the platform shoe, making my ankle roll. I muttered “Stupid Pinecones” under my breath and after getting my foot back in my sandal, I walked up and knocked on the door.
What I didn’t know at that time was that Brent, who was just as nervous as I was, had been standing at the window when I did my little pinecone shuffle. He paced me on my walk to the door and he swung the door open and the first words he said to me was “Stupid Pinecones.” His mockery eased the tension and we shared a good laugh.
Fast forward 16 years, and we find out about his diagnosis. We start making a list of things we want to do together, one of which was getting tattooed together. While I have many tattoos from my gypsy adventures, Brent had never figured out anything that he wanted inked on his body forever. My niece Sam and I shouted out many (MANY) silly ideas before I suggested a stupid pinecone. The next day, Brent sent me pictures of the pinecone he liked best.
It is now official, Brent can no longer fulfill his lifelong dream to be buried next to our brother-in-law, Eric in a Jewish cemetery (longer story still) because he is officially a tattooed man. We got matching tattoos on our forearms and when we hold hands, the tattoos are lined up so that each of us can see that stupid pinecone and remember how such a silly thing could lead to such a beautiful life and a love that will, in fact, transcend time and space. Who knew?
