The Flight Plan

 

I’d guess that if a butterfly had to file a flight plan before takeoff, if may resemble an EKG printout, full of ups and downs, possibly giving some a cause for concern.

But then, why fly in a straight line when you can travel in poetry?  Not setting a destination but simply following a whim.

We have placed all kinds of barriers that prevent us from experiencing that kind of freedom.  Our language ties us to a specific land, our money keeps us in check along the way, passports and border crossings restrict us from any ups and downs.  We are expected to know ahead of time where we are going and when we’ll return. 

I have seen hundreds of butterflies at the same time but never bunched up in a tour group.  

And maybe this isn’t a fair comparison – us to butterflies.  They never take luggage, line up in a queue, or stare at their phone instead of looking up to see where they are.

 

OK, so forget I said anything.

 

 

 

 

 

ZC

 

 

Riviting

 

        Some years ago, we owned a house that had a swimming pool in the backyard.  Every now and then I would have to rescue various things from the water, like clumsy squirrels, our own dog and once in a while a frog or two.

        So, what surprised me this morning was finding a tiny frog swimming around inside the coffee pot reservoir.  Yes, you heard me correctly.  The coffee maker in our kitchen had a small frog inside the water tank that is attached to the side of the system.

        OK, so how did it get there?  How did it get into the house and then into the kitchen?  We fill the reservoir from the kitchen faucet.  Surely the frog didn’t travel through the entire water supply.  Across the neighborhood, using the water pipes, and pop out here.  That would have been one heck of an adventure.  Maybe even a Disney movie.

        Could be it was attracted by the scent of dark roast, or possibly hazelnut.  There is a certain attraction to the aroma of coffee, and who knows how sensitive a frog’s nose is?  But this guy would have to be Houdini to get past all of the barriers that exist between some froggy swamp and our coffee pot.

        I removed the plastic lid from the water tank and using a large soup spoon, I scooped the frog out of the water and just looked at it for a moment.  I wanted to ask if I was now going to get three wishes, but I restrained myself.  It just sat there on the spoon and looked back at me.  Not so much as a thank you.  Nothing.

        It is all together possible that it is my dead neighbor, reincarnated as a frog.  He always enjoyed coming over for coffee and talking about all the other neighbors.  He enjoyed gossiping as much as he did his morning coffee.  But if that is true, what do I do with him now?

        “I’m going to put you outside now, Frank.  It’s time to hop on home.”

 

 

 

 

 

ZC

 

 

 

 

 

 

Precarious at Best

 

The psychology of the greater good stands on a stack of rocks that doesn’t always have the larger one at the base.

  

***

The concise takeaway: the “greater good” is rarely built in neat, rational layers. It’s a cairn—an improvised stack of intentions, impulses, fears, hopes, and moral shortcuts—and sometimes the smallest stone ends up carrying the weight of the whole structure.

🪨 The cairn of human morality

Your metaphor is sharp, ZC. We like to imagine moral reasoning as a pyramid: the biggest, most stable principle at the bottom, supporting everything above it. But real human psychology doesn’t work that way.

Morality is more like a stack of uneven rocks, each placed by a different hand:

• Instinct — the quick, emotional stone we grab first
• Social pressure — a rock we add because everyone else did
• Fear of consequences — often heavier than the rock of compassion
• Personal narrative — the oddly shaped stone we insist belongs in the stack
• Actual ethics — the rock we claim is at the base, but often isn’t

The “greater good” is usually the stone placed last—balanced precariously on top—while the real foundation is something smaller, more fragile, and more human.

🌫 Why the biggest rock isn’t always at the bottom

Because people don’t build their moral stacks in order. They build them in emotionally convenient order.

Sometimes the base is:

• a childhood lesson
• a fear of being judged
• a desire to be seen as good
• a moment of empathy
• a moment of guilt
• a moment of exhaustion

The greater good becomes a story we tell ourselves, not the structural truth of the stack.

And yet—miraculously—the stack often stands.

🌱 The quiet truth beneath your metaphor

The greater good isn’t a single rock. It’s the balance of all the rocks. It’s the way the crooked ones lean on each other. It’s the way the tiny ones keep the larger ones from sliding. It’s the way intention and imperfection somehow create stability.

Human morality is not engineered. It’s assembled.

 

 

 

 

 ZC

 

 

Crazy Ivan

 

I couldn’t help but make a crunching sound with every step.  It must be next to impossible to walk through the woods and be completely silent.  I’m sure that whatever forest creatures are here, can obviously hear me coming and will scamper away, or burrow into their underground homes, or climb a tree.

Bears and mountain lions I doubt would be concerned about me.  Perhaps curious.   And I’m positive neither one scampers.  As long as I am here and making my way to the far side, it is best if I put the thought of bears and mountain lions out of my thinking.  It doesn’t help and only adds to my stress.

It makes sense, though, that if I am making crunching sounds as I walk, they should too.  Them being just as heavy as me and likely more so, I will focus on hearing the odd crunch as I step.  Although that isn’t putting them out of my thoughts, it is bringing them front and center. 

I remember the movie, The Hunt for Red October.  Every so often the sub would turn around to make sure nothing was behind them.  Maybe I should do that as well.  It’s times like this I ask myself how I got myself into this situation.  Why am I here and what was so wrong with where I was?

 

 

 

 

 

 ZC

 

 

 

 

Sold by the Foot

 

One Way

 

I have this Widget; it is new and in good shape.  I have no use for it, so I called Widget.com to see if they wanted it back.  Their phone system is operated by AI.  It has a set of questions that it asks when you call.  I ran through all of their questions with my answers.  1. No, I am not a current customer.  2. No, I do not want to open an account.  3. No, there is no problem with my service.  I don’t have your service.  4. No, I can’t give you my account number, because I don’t have an account with you.  And then all of the questions repeat.  It is a useless loop of insanity.

I called my friend and explained that I have this Widget and it is new and in good shape, and that I have no use for a Widget, and the Widget company has opted to use a computer instead of paying an employee to be the face of their customer service, and their computer isn’t programmed to deviate from a script of basic questions. 

My friend said he had no use for a Widget, but thanks for asking.  I said, “No problem,” and hung up.   This whole thing made me think of the Roach Motel.  They walk in but they can never walk out.  That seems to be the same problem with these Widgets.  The company gets you to take them and then you’re stuck.  You can never get rid of the thing, even if it’s a nice one, in good condition. 

The more I thought about that, the more I realized this entire neighborhood is a Roach Motel.  We are not allowed to have garage sales, so getting rid of something is next to impossible.  Everyone here walks in under their own steam, but the only way out is on a stretcher.  The ambulance shows up and carts them away, the house goes up for sale, until a replacement Roach buys it and moves in.  Yes, there are storage areas everywhere, but who wants to pay so much a month to store your junk?  Not me. 

Maybe the next time the paramedics show up to cart someone away, I’ll sneak this Widget into the ambulance, toss a blanket over it and they’ll never know the difference.

 

“Hey Larry, what’s under that blanket?”

“How should I know?  I thought you put it there.”

“I didn’t put it there.  Maybe the day shift left it.”

“O-well, just ignore it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

ZC

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's the thing...

 There are exactly the right number of letters in the phrase, Alphabetical Clutter as there needs to be.

Not sure why you needed to know that, but visually it just looks like there are too many.

            zc