I woke up thinking about the one that got away. Everybody does. I grieve not of a fish, though. My piscatorial IQ leaves something to be desired. I speak of an inspiration, a burst of clarity the came in the night, a mystic comprehension that reconciled and unified all the contradictions of everyday life.
There I lay in the glow of ultimate enlightenment! Then it was gone. As fleeting as quantum and as elusive as a quark, it fled into the mists of slumber. Could I remember, I would share it in grandeur, pearlescently ecstatic and exit in a crescendo of bluegill feathers!
Alas, it is gone, leaving me to stumble through the fields of familiarity with an aged mind ill fitted to stick-to-it-ive-ness. Like my erratic compact disc changer, it flits from one thing to another. Disc changers are not supposed to do that, but mine does. Like governments and grandchildren, it notes my command and then goes on to something else. Occasionally it will skip several stops and return to a selection already played. Other times it disengages in the middle of one tune and begins another. Therein is a lesson about the intermittence of an elder’s mind. [He gets angry when others speak like this. - *] I am sharing wisdom. The others are merely babbling. [UHH Huhhh!! - *]
I cannot get beyond the blasé diet of everyday news trite with embedded silliness. The health and aerospace industries are peculiarly united, rendered symbiotic by a candy company. [See paragraph #1.]
Speaking on behalf of Mars Company, with deference to Michele Obama, a spokesman says that king-sized Snicker bars will be discontinued. Other confections will be reduced in size. Snickers is shrunk. Twix is diminished. The Three Musketeers are now two, the purported reason being concerns over health, nutrition and portion sizes. He must have snickered when he said it because of the price increase hidden in the chocolate. Space exploration is also impacted, but it shouldn’t matter that much. Mars is smaller, as is the Milky Way, so it won’t cost that much to tool around out there.
I woke up thinking about … We did that already!
Political endeavors are as full of applesauce this week as any other. The Hoekstra Super Bowl ad is still resonating, but not because it demeans and insults Asians. It was overly truthful, portraying the true feelings of Americans and Chinese toward each other. The Chinese, if Fox News is correct, ridicule us for being stupid. I’ve not forgotten the video of a Chinese business delegation cheering at the collapse of the Trade Towers. The little actress, now humbled to abject apology, did a marvelously good job. Somebody’s business relationship was ruffled, that’s all.
Sanctions, in vogue as always, are now applied in the manner of reverse mortgages. If I understand correctly, the Chinese are hacking our computers to retrieve “what rightly belongs to them.” We are threatened with iPad deprivation because the Chinese have discovered prior ownership of that name. It reminds me of the old Cold War rivalry, when the Russians claimed to have found electrical wires in one of their caves, proving that Russia had electricity before we did. Our side answered that scientists explored an American cave and found absolutely nothing, proving that the United States was first in wireless communication. No wonder I’m tired all the time!
Unable to endure endless squabbles, I tapped into “Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Again the turntable of mind took me back to the “future,” in this case the 15th Century. Louis XI, a progressive king, espoused the printing press while the Church opposed it. They hadn’t heard that the earth is round yet. To my astonishment the King, portrayed by Harry Davenport, looked a great deal like John McCain, proving that McCain is remarkably progressive!
Then, as now, the masses were cynical and unappreciative of progressive leadership. “Democratically” inclined, they elected a new king. Deaf and deformed, he accepted the crown and revelry unaware that he was being ridiculed. Round and round goes the turntable of history; stopping here, stopping there, playing the same old tunes.
I woke up thinking of the one that . . . . Auuuugggghhhh!!!
Jim Stockton is a retired bookkeeper who lives in Belding. His email address is firstname.lastname@example.org.