Monday, January 29, 2014
Let's suppose a person is roaming around the planet like a kid on the playground. He kind of has his eye peeled for someone to play with. Hey, recess is only so long, right? And pretty soon he'll be back in class sitting at his desk shut down or tossed in the cloakroam all by himself again if he isn't quiet and obedient. So, this person is like that kid, looking for someone to hang out with and play, let's say a good game of marbles. Age doesn't matter to the universe, just to the individuals on the playground (most likely).
1. Senario One: He spies a little beauty, and says to himself, "Hey, there's someone. Wonder if she would like to play marbles with me. Well, marbles is a good choice because it too is a game of chance with a bit of skill involved to get the marble to fall into the hole you've dug in the ground with your boot heel and back from which you are standing deciding who will go first to roll their marble into the "pot" (this game of marbles is called, "pots"). She says she'll play if I can beat her in a game of pots.
The analogy in adult life that comes to mind is like going to Las Vegas to play roulette. If you pick the right color and the marble falls in that color you win a playmate. It's either "red" or "black", right; 50/50 chance. Which in adult life is pretty good odds I'd think. So, let's say I try a game. What do I have to lose. I don't have a playmate now, so I have nothing to loose and something good possibly to gain.
So, I put my bet on "red". My little playmate is standing by and in a way she becomes the marble that the table manager will roll around the spinning roulette wheel. So, here we go. The manager spins the wheel, flicks the marble into the rim of the spinning wheel in the opposite direction the wheel is spinning. And, around and 'round and 'round the wheel and the opposite spinning ball go and the anticipation builds. Fingers are crossed, the manager is starting to look at my all or nothing bet with non-caring eyes--he's just the table manager after all. I'm about half-way done biting my nails and the potential playmate is riding the rim of the wheel like a kid in a roller coaster, yelling; "Weeeeeeee"....
Soon, the wheel slows and the ball loses it's momentum and begins to fall into the hollow of the roulette wheel with all it's alternating colors and scrambled numbers. In no time it seems, the ball starts to flutter and bounce in and out of the various cavities depicting the numbers and colors and it bounces a few times and finally, before the wheel stops spinning, but slows noticable, the ball clatters around in one of the pigeon holes and stays put. The crowd goes, "Ahh".... I drop my jaw and my shoulders as the little ball has fallen into a "black" square. The manager picks up my potential playmate and holds her in his hands for the next game of chance.
The End.
2. Scenario Two: This time I want to be a little star just hanging about 1200 miles above the earth trying to shine my little light down on someone hoping she'll be my playmate. Whooeee, there are a lot of potential playmates down there from up here in space 1200 miles above ol' Mother Earth with all her 7.2 billion earthlings--half of which are girls and 25% of those are legal, maybe. Still, in finding a playmate, there has to be some attention played to details from 1200 miles up or one could end up with a guy pushing a shopping cart that looks like a girl and I ain't gay (yet), so I'm shinnin' my little light around and eventually one of my rays lights up a potential playmate who seems to be roaming around playing the field, but not necessarily too good at picking a dull non-star bi-pedding her neighborhood. So, I focus my light on that one; taking a chance she'll see my star. Odds are quite different than roulette of course. She gets to decide. It ain't chance. It's the real deal, like everyone has to play in the real deal called life.
So, I'm shinning away up here 1200 miles above this potential playmate and nope. Not a chance. I turn up the brightness of my star and kinda filter my light through a prism to make little rainbows and twinkle off of snowflakes when I get the chance and even make light come out of raindrops so she can see herself in drops on the window on those days when she wants to go out and play, but it's too wet. A good day to watch yourself in the raindrop mirror I"d say.
Time passes as it always does--slowly when you're anxious to have someone to play with--quickly when you want to take a pee. Well, there's a problem for my star. It only can shine so long. Think of it as love being the shinning part of my star. You only get issued so many hours of love-shine and even if you had your Ever-Ready batteries in the freezer most of you starlife, the power of love is going to burn out at some point. So, I'm really pouring on the rays if you know what I mean. Focus, Ronnie, Focus....
Well time keeps traveling like the Lone Ranger and nuttin'. Bad guess. Picked the wrong playmate I guess. So many still around to pick, but now I've gotten used to shinning on this one little bugger for a while and I can't seem to keep my rays off of her. Trouble. Pure unadulatrated trouble. I can smell it. Can you? Then, wouldn't you know it...SUPERNOVA.... My little star runs out of battery power and KERPLOWEE I'm shedding little tiny shards of love all over the place 1200 miles below. Those rays are falling like lightning bugs with their tail lights on, but going out fast. Lights Out. Curtain.
The End
So, folks, this seems to be where I'm at in the next phase of my life. Getting all excited to pack up in May and do a "Travels with Tess" gun and tobacco traveling show and I suspect I'm going to be looking for someone to play marbles with along the way. Not like a game of permanent marbles you understand. Just a game of "Hey, wanna play marbles or something, drink a glass of wine, hold hands and take it as it comes or goes". Mostly I like the idea that the Universe doesn't give a shit. That's like all the encouragement I need I think for now.
Maybe I'll find me a nice mountain overlooking a village of possible playmates and I'll just shine away on 'em until one looks up and spots me glowing like the eyes of a hoot owl on a full moon night. I've learned a lot this year about time and solitude and the Universe doesn't seem to give a shit about either of those too. So, it doesn't seem like I have a choice, but to crawl up on a pony along side of the Lone Ranger and take off my bandanna and yell: "Aroar-harr"....
Not Quite The End...closer to the beginning, actually.
No comments:
Post a Comment