I’ve been in a steady love-hate relationship with Rubik’s Cube since 1980.
There are reasons that the six sided puzzle is my own personal Lament Configuration.
I suck at math, and always have. I have a very short attention span when it comes to logic.
And at some point, apparently, my brother “solved” my cube my removing all of the stickers one-by-one and replacing them in the wrong positions.
That last demonic truth is something I only recently discovered.
Having reconnected with my original Rubik’s Cube in a storage box untouched by anyone since 1994, I brought it into my office thinking it would be a cool little retro-remnant of my past, and a painful reminder that I’ve still never solved the damn thing.
It didn’t matter to him, as he was able to solve the cube anyway, and in about 5 minutes flat.
In the 80s, there were countless child prodigies that solved the damn Rubik’s Cube blindfolded or underwater, or in the more stressful, but incredible, confines of a lurching Fran Tarkenton, Cathy Lee Crosby and John Davidson.
I hated those kids.
Sure, some of them went to my school, or lived down the street, but I couldn’t relate to their thinking process, nor their patience.
Though I could always accomplish one side, more than that escaped me.
Though I was able to grasp the basic turns and patterns enough to make a checkerboard from a mint or freshly solved cube, anything further was a pipe dream.
I grew to hate the cube itself, even in the height of its popularity. But I’d be willing to bet I’m not alone, as the cube went the way of the pet rock fairly quickly, though having an animated series with a theme song by Menudo didn’t help.