I’ve been avoiding writing here about a recent obsession of mine: cubing.
Every year we have a small New Years Eve party, a bunch of long-time friends gathering at our house for food, fireworks, and games. The grown-ups hang out on the main floor. The kids have migrated upstairs in recent years.
The daughter of one of our good friends, barely a teenager, surprised me a little this past New Years. I went upstairs to evaluate the food and beverage situation and she was sitting on the couch flipping her fingers across my Rubick’s Cube, which had gone unsolved since the day we pried it from the plastic clam-shell wrapper and scrambled it. She was half-looking at the thing, casual. Fidgetting, really. And then… she solved it, set it on our ottoman, shrugged, and went on with her evening.
I know people do this competitively, flip their fingers across the butter-smooth mechanics of specially-designed “speed cubes” to see if they can solve it in record-setting times of mere seconds. Look it up on YouTube.
But my little classic cube, sitting on our shelf gathering dust had never been much more than throwback toy. I’d pull it down on occasion and solve one side and contemplate the elegant complexity of the thing. Whatever. Move along. Life is too busy to worry about every eclectic hobby.