People accuse us conservatives of being a bit smug, uppity and believing we have all the answers and Lord knows they are right. Therefore when three of us had lunch recently all agreed before we sat down: no politics. We already know what we are going to say so why waste our breath? Knowing Everything is a good old American trait along with self-righteousness and baseball which is all preferable to cruelty, torture and having Vladimir Putin run your country. Nevertheless we all must remind ourselves: you’re not better than others and not much different than anyone else (Sunday School Lesson, June 1999 “Judgement”).
However by the time I’d taken the first bite of my eggroll we were deep into politics so I deliberately said a non-uppity non-smug thing: I don’t think any of us truly believe everything we claim to believe. It’s all biological. You hear a phrase and a response comes out, like Pavlov’s dog. We are all specks on a spinning ball lost within a vast creation of galaxies and if the planet exploded today and we lost everything---Bach, Aristotle, Socrates, Heather Locklear--- it would make no difference whatsoever in the big picture so why be concerned about the November election?
There was a long pause of silence then somebody said that Barack had lost 5 percentage points in the eastern states and the Republicans better get their bus out of the ditch.
What I didn’t get to talk about was the hot air balloon that landed in my front yard. We touched on the Electoral College and somebody ranted about the price of gas but the balloon was never mentioned.
A hot air balloon? (Thank you for asking).
A beautiful Saturday morning and I’m standing in the bathroom looking at a piece of soap that resembles the state of Virginia. I hear a thunderous blowing sound directly overhead and I look up but the ceiling is still there, just where it was suppose to be. Then I heard my wife scream for me to come to the front door, NOW---for God’s sake, NOW!
Wearing blue boxers ( with a decorative paramecia pattern) and a lathered face I run downstairs wondering if maybe Putin had taken one of my stories the wrong way--- only to see this enormous hot air balloon sitting in my front yard close to the front door and people piling out of the basket beneath it.
I found some pants, wiped my face and raced out the door to see if I could be of some help but everything was under control. What is the etiquette for guests that drop out of mid air and onto your front lawn at 7:00 a.m.? We offered coffee.
Some of us talked while the balloon was packed away in a van. Seems a passenger, Dr. Joe Perry , wanting to give his lovely wife Gaylynn an anniversary gift decided to simulate the moment she swept him off his feet, so they left the ground together.
An early morning balloon ride with someone you love. Your spouse, your best informed critic still wants to go to new heights with you. Amazing. So you hold hands, the earth passes beneath you, the wind touches your cheek and you feel their warmth beside you. Suddenly you know what is really important and it’s all right there in your hand.
I think just before the first presidential debate we should throw the two candidates into a hot air balloon, send it aloft and see if it doesn’t help bring about something profound. Surely, like Joe Perry, they could rise to the occasion.
Readers can write to Joe at Joehud@hotmail.com and see his work on www.viewfromthehudson.com, http://www.ncwriters.org/ or FanStory.com
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