It seems to me slinkies have things figured out. They are inherently fun. They don’t fall down the stairs; they take them one at a time. They stretch to impossible lengths without breaking.

All of this leads me to a stark conclusion: I wish I were a slinky.

I can hear some of you thinking now. “That’s it, he’s finally completely lost it. We knew he was going that way, but this is proof.” Ordinarily I might agree with you. After all, “I wish I were a slinky” doesn’t have quite the same ring as “I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener.” But allow me to explain.

The slinky is technically one long strand of metal (or plastic) that coils back on itself, compressing and compact-ifying until it forms a squat object when there is no net force applied. But when there is a net force, the slinky slides and slinks to accommodate the force until equilibrium is established again.

Similarly, a human memory is a compilation of linear time that has been squashed and twisted around to fit inside the folds of a brain. New memories come along and create a shifting and sliding of accommodation (an adjustment to the slinky) to fit into the memory. If the slinky isn’t a perfect metaphor for human life that belongs in the next great work of literature, I don’t know what helical spring would be.

Now, you may notice that I have not yet made an argument for why I want to be a slinky. I simply provided a distracting observation on some level of similarity between slinky and human. Very perceptive of you. So, onward to my thesis on slinky-over-human superiority.

If you were to dangle a human and a slinky over the edge of a tall building, with the feet and the bottom of the slinky at the same height, you would likely notice a similarity: the human and the slinky would both be wriggling to some extent (although the slinky would probably wriggle with less noise — point for the slinky).

However, upon dropping them, you would notice a few distinct differences. For one, the slinky (again) would make less noise. Secondly, the bottom of the slinky would actually levitate until the top caught up to it, unlike the human, which would be falling the entire time. This gives the slinky a distinct edge in finding a softer landing spot (i.e., the human). Advantage: slinky.

And so, I wish I were a slinky. I would brighten everyone’s day (currently my day-brightening abilities are hit or miss), I could go down stairs end over end without hurting myself and I could levitate. The only downside would be the potential to get a kink, transforming me into a kinky slinky.

It’s a risk I’m willing to take.