Just A Mystery

Who did it?

What’s crawling on the ceiling?

Where are my car keys?

How many cookies are too many?

When will this Antique Roadshow marathon be over?

All the mysteries of life hang over us and creep into our lives nearly everyday, and when they do, they make us ask questions like the ones above.

Could that be one of the reasons we are so fascinated by the “whodunit” books, movies, and those damn reality shows that pick apart all the true-life crimes and reveal the psychopathic killer at the very end?

I think everyone probably has a secret wish to solve mysteries. If others can’t Oigure it out, maybe you’re the one person that can. It’s that inner sleuth which lurks inside so many of us.

Murder mysteries have always intrigued me. With all our new technology, the advances in DNA testing, and the whole Oield of forensics, it’s becoming easier to get the facts and evidence on so many crimes, and we all look to people like Dexter (you know, the serial killing forensics ofOicer) to answer those annoying questions about the single hair or drop of sweat left at the scene. In so many novels and television shows, crime scene investigators will walk into a crime scene and tear everything apart, Oinding Oingerprints, nail clippings, blood splatter, hair Oibers, cigarette butts, and pretty much everything else that falls into the category of “clue”. You can commit what you think is the perfect crime and still get caught because you had to pee, and stupidly wrote your name in the snow a mile away from the actual scene. (DNA match to the residue from the sneeze over the murder weapon.)

No crime is perfect.

Today’s novels and shows make us realize and appreciate all the work Agatha Christie’s characters did when it came to solving the impossible crime. Everyday, we become Hercule Poirot (with or without the accent), Miss Marple, or the Beresfords (Tommy and Tuppence). Purists (and occasional violin fans) become Sherlock Holmes when approaching a mysterious event.

Example: You’re in an elevator, it’s crowded, and something foul circulates through the air as you are heading up to the 32nd Oloor. You gaze around the elevator and Oind yourself analyzing your fellow passengers.

Could it be the tall guy in the sweatsuit with his headphones playing loud enough for almost everyone in the tiny space to hear, and not realizing he had done it? Or maybe it was the mousy woman with her nose buried in a book. She looks very uptight and stressed, and you can detect the scent of coffee, with extra French vanilla cream. Perhaps being surrounded by so many people has over stressed her, with gaseous results? Or maybe it was the guy with the inner voice —the one narrating this scene?

Yeah, I’m sorry, it was me! Darn burritos. Anyway, getting back to my topic, it seems mysteries have always intrigued people, whether in tales told around a Oire, in books, or in any of today’s media. Throughout history we’ve relied on the greatest minds to solve so many of them. A lot of the time, common sense, and some moments of thought, have revealed the answers.

Bigfoot is an ongoing mystery who has millions of articles, books, television shows, and movies devoted to him. Personally, I think he is the greatest Hide and Seek player in history. He comes down from his mountain forests, every now and then, to buy lottery tickets and chili cheese Fritos from random gas stations, then vanishes again. I’m convinced that if his Mega Lotto numbers hit, his identity will Oinally be revealed.

It's puzzling that with the insanely precise cameras and the incredible technology out there, all we have seen is blurry and grainy photos and shadowy movies, or vague images of something walking in the forest. So many books play on this kind of theme, the writers brilliantly keep us guessing what will happen next. That's why we dread it when they build up to a climax, almost ready to reveal the villain, only to make us wait and turn another page. Why can't everything be revealed, before it becomes three o’clock in the morning, and I have to go to work?

The reader’s curse—"Just one more chapter!"— deOinitely applies to Mysteries.

I could go on all day with the many mysteries of life, and then, of course, there's all the ones in our history. The Pyramids, Egypt: Personally, I think it was alien kids’ Legos that their parents stepped on and tossed into the sand so they wouldn’t hurt their feet again on their way to the bathroom.

The Bermuda Triangle: That’s always been one of my favorite mysteries. Over time, the planes that were lost and the oddities that surround the area have always intrigued me. It seems like a perfect storm of weather, gravitational pull, and perhaps the Earth’s electric pulses, causing chaos. One day we will Oind out it is just a bunch of coincidences.

Then there are the Zodiac letters, with messages from a twisted mind, only one has been solved. It makes those Sudoku masterminds scratch their heads. Maybe it was just a prank and they were random messages and letter combinations meaning something completely mundane. It could be a grocery list for all we know.

Not to take away anything from Bigfoot, but I have to mention the Loch Ness Monster. She suffers from the same issue that Bigfoot does. No good photos. Bummer, I would really like to see what this is.

Then there’s Stonehenge, a group of stones arranged in an odd pattern, that just happens to align with the sun. Maybe this was a giant troll’s child playing with blocks, who got bored and knocked them over as he walked away.

Atlantis is another interesting mystery. This could well have been a lesson in not believing your real estate agent when he says he has the perfect island property. Here’s an elaborate and amazing city, and the next thing you know, it sinks. Who would have thought that might happen?

There are so many mysteries we haven’t yet solved. D.B Cooper, extraterrestrials (I blame them for most things, because I think they do stuff and then laugh as we try to Oigure it out), disappearances, anomalies, mystic powers, and who was the Oirst person to crack open an oyster, slurp out the mucus-like glob in the middle and say “Yummy”? I’d like a word or two with him.

Ghosts and the “other side” have been one of the greatest mysteries for so many of us. Many people believe in spirits, but it is another thing to see one. Ghost stories tend to be darker, more sinister, and pretty scary.

I could make a list of all the mysteries listed on Google and give opinions (and make jokes) about most of them for a long time. There are so many books which delve into these things with great detail and mountains of research. Most of my research revolves around the mysterious effects of cookies and burritos on the human body.

The thing is, mysteries continue to intrigue us. The people who write them try to delve deep into this unknown, and the results make us think - and sometimes even question ourselves.

So I have to ask... do we really want to know who did it? Do we really want to know why? How about where it all happened? Was it the butler, with the candlestick, in the library? Get a clue.