Inventors are strange people.
A definitive statement.
I like definitive statements. They lend an air of authority and certainty that is hard to resist. In this case, the statement is not only definitive, it's true.
I'm an inventor as well as a patent attorney, so I believe I speak with some authority on the subject. I will explain.
As a young boy, I was often banned from playing with my friends' toys due to my habit of breaking them - the toys, that is. I didn't really think of it as "breaking" so much as "exploring." You see, while I was temporarily amused with the toy, the real intrigue to me was the inner workings of the device. I often found myself pulling at the gaps to discover what lie within. That quirky adorable behavior often resulted in the unfortunate and permanent loss of the toy's functionality. Early on, I was limited by my own lack of strength and dexterity, which I remedied with the discovery of tools. Until I was about 12, I was rather involved with the "discovery" portion of my obsession without regard to consequences. Christmas, for example, was never complete for me until I'd deconstructed all my toys. I'm not sure why it never occurred to my parents to give me an erector set, which would have channeled my energy harmlessly into the mass of parts that made up that particular toy.
At 12, I fixed the living room fold-out sofa. The sofa would not voluntarily release the bed within without my father first wrestling it into submission. Once or twice I had tried to suggest a solution to which my father sternly commanded me to not "touch or break" the d*mned couch. I remember the couch calling to me with an urgency and persistence that I could not ignore. One weekend, when my parents were out of town, I seized my opportunity. I removed all the cushions and began a detailed exploration of the device. More than once, when attempting to open the bed, I jammed the mechanism and was filled with panic that I would not be able to return the sofa to its initial position and thereby be discovered. However, I persisted and after a time discovered that there were three holes on one side of the frame that did not align like the holes on the opposite side. I figured if I made the sides the same, the bed would work.
It did.
And that is the essence of an inventor... the insatiable need to understand and solve a problem without regard to life and limb. Inventors live in their minds and are often quite introverted. My wife often tells me that I'm not speaking in whole sentences... the reality is far from the truth. I am, in fact, speaking in whole sentences. I'm just not speaking in whole sentences aloud. She should be more thoughtful with her pronouncements.
Inventors may be prone to the following:
- Endlessly muttering about insignificant problems and details
- Making sudden outbursts when a particular insight is achieved
- Dashing off to hardware stores at odd hours
- Making obscure internet purchases
- Breaking things... lots of things
- Attempting to combine odd pieces of machinery to no apparent purpose
- Lapsing into a fugue like state occasionally... or regularly
My advice is to treat your inventor gently and remember that their reality is not entirely connected with anyone else's.
When my parents returned, I privately disclosed to my mother what I had done. She told me to show her. After demonstrating the now functioning sofa she told me that when the time was right, she'd tell my father. It came to pass that one evening some days later, my father was readying the sofa to set up the bed. I watched anxiously as he pulled the handle to lift the bed. The frame opened like a newly emerging butterfly from its chrysalis. My mother was standing by and said, "Well?"
"I guess I fixed it," he replied.
"Your son fixed it."
This was the critical moment, I knew. I half remember crouching low to present a less accessible profile. It wasn't so much the reality of, but the perceived possibility of a beating I was anticipating.
He turned to me and said, "I thought I told you not to touch the couch."
"Don't," was all my mother said.
Having been married for sometime now, I can appreciate the emphasis and tone my mother put on that word that evening. I smile when I think about it to this day having heard words delivered in similar fashion from my wife.
Not another word was said on the subject and a pleasant evening was had by all. Later, I retreated to my bedroom to bask in the glory of the first of many victories.
Inventors are strange people indeed.