Monday, February 6, 2017

A (Rocket) Blast from My Past

This is a day when I'm in the shop, so to speak. I'm well out of warranty, of course, but that doesn't mean stuff doesn't squeak and rumble except for the stuff that's supposed to but doesn't which is partly why I'm getting ultra-scanned today. I always think of it as like a "triple-wax" car wash without the wax, water or car. 

What it actually does is make me more nervous, or nervouser as I tend to think of it, as the dawn breaks because the process takes hours, you have to fast (I have the going slow part down pat) and the technicians proceed very carefully because I have a replacement artery in one leg, a stent in the other, two more in the heart and replacement knees, all of which make for unusual sounds when ultrasound hits them. 

When it's all over, and it takes just this side of forever but considerably less time than being dead, I should remember, there are a lot of nervous smiles and no conclusions, that's what the doctor does, and I get to go home. All of which is my way of trying to tell you why you end up reading this again today.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. After I discovered The Beatles and rock and roll, not so much, but there's many a cloudless night with a star-filled sky (the great thing about Life in the Sticks is very little light pollution from large cities and the heavens are gorgeous) that I do remember to look up and see.

It's a view I never tire of and a small part of me, that six-year-old with the space helmet, wonders what down here might look like from a vantage point up there somewhere.

That's why my brain understands what Rhawn Joseph is attempting to do but my heart still thinks he's a crank. But I'm being unkind; there's a surprise, you say (kiss my anti-gravity belt, no lower)-read this and judge for yourself.

I'll be the first to concede I was a skeptic but when I clicked here, he had me at white socks and his poem. I'm not sure if we sue one another more in this day and age than we used to of if it's just more publicized than when our parents and their parents were fussin' and fightin'.

We seem to play the litigation card earlier in the evening than previous generations did though I'm not sure a quick game of Parchesi or Rock, Paper, Scissors would get us any farther or faster. Gore Vidal once noted, "litigation takes the place of sex at middle age." I have no idea what he's talking about and you need to be careful, Alice. Or it's to the moon....
-bill kenny

No comments: