Old Spiders and Wheelchairs

Sand, cactus, rocks, mountains and abundant heat in all directions.  My thoughts drift to an ice cream sandwich.  A snake slithers off in search of shade.  Good-luck, I say.  There is no shade, not under rocks or around corners, there is only bright, blistering sun and even within my thoughts the ice cream sandwich has started to melt.

I have no direction.  I am not going anywhere.  No need for a GPS or WiFi signal.  What's the point?  Why trudge over to that next mountain or out beyond that rock formation?  I am here and this appears to be my destiny.  I am alone now, even the snake has left me.

He knows, I'm sure.  His ice cream sandwich is still cold and fresh.  His fast tongue flicks at the vanilla center;  startled at it's stinging coldness his eyes momentarily close and he moves on, searching for something more familiar.

Why do I focus on that snake, traveling on his stomach across the burning sand?  He is the foolish one, thinking he has someplace to be.

My brain is playing tricks on me now.  I can smell hotdogs.  Someone is cooking them out on a grill and they smell good.  I hadn't thought about being hungry until now.  Maybe a big Chicago dog with a slice of pickle would be good.  OK, I need to focus on something other than food and my own hunger.

I bet Mr. Snake has found himself a tasty bug for his lunch, or maybe some spider who has wandered away from a spider senior center.  You don't think about aging spiders and what they have to deal with, like how many canes do they need just to get around?

The sun is no longer directly overhead, but something is very different.  How long have I been lying here?  Did I pass out?  I don't remember making a conscious decision to lay down here next to this cactus.  I feel the sand sticking to the side of my face.  I can taste it's dryness.  I should stand up.

Laying down like this I no longer tower over the snakes and spiders.  Down here I am on their playing field, we are equals but they have the home court advantage.  Why aren't I standing up?    I need to move now but my legs and arms are not hearing me.  Why can't they hear me?

Again I am aware of the sun's angle, as it penetrates my eyelids.  A voice startles me awake.

"Is this light bothering you?" 

She closes her book and snaps her light off.

"I don't think you turned off your side of the blanket.  It feels pretty toasty."

I roll over and click my blanket off.

Let's have hotdogs tomorrow, I say.

"Sure, if that sounds good."

OK, good-night.

"Good-night."

12 ounce can: $3.00

I'd like to buy a 12 ounce can of Spray Mute.  Better yet, I'd like to buy several cases of it.

I'd carry a can of it with me at all times.  I'd spray every speaker at the mall.  I'd spray every speaker in every store and in every supermarket. 

Like Johnny Appleseed but instead of planting trees I'd be planting quiet.  People could once again shop in silence.  They could walk through town in peace and quiet.

No one would be harmed except the seemingly endless supply of screechy, obnoxious singers, whose bad music goes on and on.

In fact, if I were rich, I'd make Spray Mute available for free to everyone who promised to spray responsibly, and give them enough to hand some out to their friends. 

Loud, annoying speakers everywhere would fall silent.  Eventually our planet, like all the others, could once again whirl quietly through space.


NOTE:  If the sprayer doesn't work on your Spray Mute, simply hold the can upside down and press the nozzle until you hear,


Shhhhhhh

Internal Combustion

Based on the natural energy around us I am surprised mankind stopped at the internal combustion engine when searching for a means to move the automobile.  All the things required to animate an object exists within nature.  There should never be a need to burn or consume resources to move something.

I am reminded of the great stone blocks of the pyramids which were easily repositioned when Linda, the Pharaoh's wife, wished to vacuum or clean before a party.

One basic formula utilizes gravity against space displacement.  There is no heat generated, nor byproducts produced, with the exception of a low decibel hum.  However momentary, some found it annoying and became aggravated to the point of grumbling.

Another process, although no longer practiced today, requires weights and a mathematical equation that uses numbers of dissimilar color, forcing raw data to be primed before being painted with this process.  It has been since determined that only the prime numbers, now primed, were the ones that generated the balance and in so doing - the forward motion.


Ref:  L.C. Blakely  1881 - 1927
         Motion by Degrees (Vol. 1)
         Movement in Motion (Paperback only)
         London Press