frustration cubed

Almost twenty-six years ago, some nefarious individual invented the worst toy ever. I’m not sure what his name was, but if I had to venture a guess, I’d say his name was Rubik. I had one his evil cubes as a child. I never solved it, and I’m pretty sure it got sold at a garage sale along with all the toys I actually loved. I miss those Micro Machines and Transformers, but not that Rubik’s Cube.

For Christmas last month, BigBro gave me another Rubik’s cube. Much like the Jelly of the Month Club, it’s the gift that keeps on giving. But unlike the Jelly of the Month Club, once the initial frustration at the receipt of the gift has subsided, the Rubik’s cube only brings more.

Since the fateful Christmas gathering at which the impossible puzzle was received, I have spent an average of twenty minutes every evening trying to figure out the dadgum thing. I have concluded that anyone who claims to have solved the thing is either lying and just moved the stickers around, or has an IQ somewhere between DaVinci and Einstein.

Yet I cannot bring myself to give up and just put the thing down. I also refuse to consult any book or website that might offer tips to solve it. I will do it myself. The news last week that some nerd at Cal Tech solved one in under twenty seconds provides motivation. Freakin’ nerd…