Giant triple-bladed windmills swordfight on the horizon
As the sun slowly falls from the sky
Concrete silos, skyscrapers of the Prairie
Grain elevators twenty stories high
Christmas tree windbreaks parallel the freeway
Tailgateless 4X4 Pick-ups fly on by
Orange-barrel divided roads where men toil patching potholes
They'll be at it at least until the 4th of July
Semi's pulling tractor-trailers from small towns to big cities
As the wind washes over fields of winter wheat and rye
Deliriously happy dogs in the yards of lonely farmhouses
A tough old crow lets loose an angry battle cry
Long chains of graceful arched center pivot irrigation wheels
At the ready to augment nature's water supply
Cattle graze on rolling hills of yellow grass
Tails searching aimlessly for a green-back fly
Slender Eiffel tower radio antenna flashing red beacons
Like a lock-kneed Cyclops blinking dust from it's eye
Broadcasting the farm and ranch market report
Sandwiched between Heartbreaker and American Pie
If you ever find yourself driving around in a sporty little convertible and, despite the weather report, the ominous cloud-covered skies, or even the light drizzle that is actually falling while you are seated in the car as it cruises at 65 mph, decide to pass up exit after exit (i.e., opportunity after opportunity to put the top up), then do not be surprised if other drivers around you stare as they pass as if they were witnessing idiocy in action.
Especially when the rain really starts to pick up.
Today, for over the hundredth time in the past seven years that I have been making my particular commute to (or from) work, I passed another harsh fender bender.
It was a rear-ender, probably happened at 25mph, and there did not appear to be any injuries - the people involved were standing around talking to the police and filling out accident reports, there were towtrucks and police cruisers, but no ambulances.
As I passed the accident scene, the usual wave of relief washed over me. No, not the relief of seeing no one was injured (though I was glad to see no one appeared to be hurt), it was the wave of relief that comes from not being part of the accident.
See, I've been in a number of accidents. Hell, I've been hit by two different drunk drivers (one head-on collision caused when a drunk women veered into my lane, one a rear-ender caused by a drunk man failing to stop for the red light I was stopped in front of), and a number of sober drivers.
But, so far, I've been lucky. Very, very lucky. None of the accidents I've been subjected to (I've never caused an accident - I've always been the target it seems) have resulted in a serious injury.
So, selfish as it may seem to some, every time I pass an accident, I feel a sense of relief that I wasn't involved. I do also hope that whoever is involved is alright, and that the accident won't screw up their lives too much - but primarily I'm just happy it wasn't me.
There is something grand and glorious about watching a team claw it's way back from 2 down in the third period and tying it up with 13.5 seconds left on the clock, then winning it in the first overtime period. There really is.
Embedded with a tracer...they'll think it's the speck
.
So...you're sitting on one end of a teeter-totter (most people call it a Seesaw, but I like the term teeter-totter, so I'm going to call it that). However, this is not an ordinary teeter-totter, for it does not depend on your physical weight to achieve balance. It depends on the weight of the participants emotional/mental baggage.
You carry a bit of baggage with you, and your weight is a bit more than what is apparent to the naked eye.
The person on the other end of the teeter-totter also has a bit of baggage though, and it is sufficient enough to counter the weight of your baggage.
So equilibrium is achieved. That balance allows for a sharing of each other's baggage load while enjoying the ups and downs of the ride.
At first.
At first because initially only the baggage that is readily apparent in the participants factors in. As the teeter-totter gets moving though, more baggage from each participant is revealed and added to their side of the lever.
If one participant reveals/adds significantly more baggage than the other, then a change in equilibrium occurs.
If that change is such that the other participant is not able to counter it, that participant gets stuck hanging in the air.
We have all seen what happens on the playground when a bigger kid gets a smaller kid stuck in the air on one side of a teeter-totter and then the bigger kid jumps off his or her end, right? The smaller kid comes crashing down fast, and if the smaller kid can't get his or her feet underneath themselves quickly enough, the landing can be painful.
The only way the smaller kid can prevent that is to jump off the teeter-totter first. It's a tough decision to make sometimes because the smaller kid might be higher up that he or she is comfortable with, and the distance of the fall might look to be too far.
But jumping first, while risky, and may actually result in temporary pain or discomfort upon landing, is the only way for the smaller person to have even a modicum of control over the descent.
Too vague?
She realized her dream of living in a gated community
Picture-postcard perfect with a golden-tanned husband
She realized her dream of driving a late model luxury SUV
Hand-detailed every week at the high-end car wash
Big diamonds on her fingers, gold chains around her neck
She realized her dream of never having to work for a living
Spent her time entertaining friends on the veranda
Usually one man at a time
He never doubted he was the most desirable of men
Sure in his belief all his friend's wives wanted him
Never considered for a moment he was the fish on the line
She sat on the balcony
Glass of merlot in her hand
Opened the plastic prescription vial and shook out a few pills
Popped 'em in her mouth and washed them back with wine
He stood on the deck and watched the Sunset
One last time
