You're such a moron sometimes, you know

“Y
ou’re talking to yourself,” I said to myself. “I know, I know,” I answered.
“You’re such a moron sometimes, you know.”
Okay, that line pissed me off, and I decided not to answer it.
It’s not all that unusual. I’ve talked to myself all my life, sometimes to my own embarrassment. You see, I have a very active imagination. I will see something that interests me, alarms me or whatever draws my attention. My mind asks stupid questions like, “What if ...?” and my mouth engages while my brain seems to take a hiatus.
I remember driving in the country at Christmas time. It was night, and I had a friend with me. As I drove past a ranch-style home, I slowed way down, because it had more Christmas lights than I’d seen in a long time. I mean, this house was a landing strip for NASA. As I approached my favorite speed, full-stop, a lady comes out the door and just stands on her porch looking at me with her hand up to her eyes. She had the entire power grid of the West Coast being used only to power the lights on her house, and she’s trying to figure out why someone would slow down to look at her home. Anyway, after clearing the stars from my eyes, I took off again.
I told you I have an active imagination, right? Well, it kicked into full active mode. She thought I was a burglar. I was particularly interested in her home. She just knew I was coming back to empty all the presents from under her tree. She got a good look at my car, rushed into her home, called the cops, and they were now in hot pursuit of me, all because of what she thought I was up to. As I imagined getting pulled over and the cop asking what I was doing, I said, out loud, “Well, officer. I was just looking at all the Christmas lights on that house. …” Remember that I wasn’t alone in the car, right?
“Who are you talking to?” my friend asked in a voice that spoke volumes. He was now convinced that he was being escorted around by a lunatic.
So, you see, it’s not that I talk to myself that bothers me. It’s that someone might overhear it, which has happened more times than I care to admit. I’ve even gone so far as to say, “That’s what happens when you talk to yourself.” And I’ve said that out loud while someone else was in earshot. When I get caught, I usually feel like such a moron sometimes, you know.
In my marriage to Connie, this has happened with some frequency. You’d think I’d learn by now. But as I stated before, and have reminded myself out loud, I’m such a moron sometimes, and the current evidence confirms that. A couple of weeks ago, I was in the kitchen cooking dinner. I had just finished watching a video on one of the YouTube channels I subscribe to. It’s a science channel, and physics was on the menu for that day. Now I read about theoretical physics a lot and watch a ton of videos about it. So, of course, I play with the concepts in my head. The problem comes in when I struggle with something someone said. And this guy knows his stuff, but do I just take his information to heart? Of course not! I disagree with an expert, and the next thing you know, I’m talking about it ...
… OUT LOUD. 
“Who you talking to?” Connie asked. I didn’t even hear her walk into the kitchen. But then I couldn’t hear anything above the conversation I was having at that time.
“I, uh … um … well...” and that’s about as far as I got. 
“You’re such a moron sometimes, you know.”
“I know, I know! That was already pointed out!”
Okay, … Connie didn’t call me a moron, but I heard her thoughts. They were conveyed through the raised eyebrows and shake of her head. Her thoughts splashed out of her shaking head, flew through the air and burrowed into my auditory system.
But that brings up another interesting question. Why did I have trouble explaining myself to my wife? I don’t know. I have no problem coming up with stuff to say to myself. I’ll ask myself a question. I’ll answer it. I’ll admit I do love having someone really smart to talk to. But that can’t be the problem here, because my wife is brilliant. I have to put that line here in case she reads this column. I also know it’s the smart thing to include that bit of information because I just had a back and forth about the pros and cons of putting in the fact that Connie is smart. The pros won out. Mostly because I didn’t answer the questions about it with “I, uh … um … well ...” I actually had an answer, and it was sound, logical and to the point. And when I have something smart to say, I shut up and listen. And furthermore I know she is smart because she told me so. And when that happens I really shut up and listen.
I’ve found that there are a lot of other things I do all by myself that are not a single-person activity as well. ...
… except when I do them. The other day I was playing chess … with MYSELF. It began with the classic Ruy Lopez opening.
“Pawn to king 4, pawn to king 5, knight to king’s bishop 3, knight to queen’s bishop 3, bishop to knight 5,” and on it went. Yes, I called out the moves as I played the game. I remember one time I made a specific move and looked at it.
“That’s a really good move,” I observed after having lost my knight.
“I know. Mate in five.” I replied.
… I’m glad to report that I won that game. But then my opponent is such a moron sometimes, you know.