Service Mission

My commute for work is so scenic that when the season’s slight lengthening of days touches it with sunlight a worn creation filmstrip is run through my head. The early days of the earth’s wobble slants the sun’s rays into improbable color patterns. This morning I see reds and purples blending into the day’s choice of pastel blue. The moon is quite nearly full, and bright with detail.

The commute’s path around the recently dried lakebed saw the moon popping out from threadbare portions of a pockmarked cloudbank. The translucent portions of the sky would glow with exertion as they failed in blotting out the moonlight. Thicker portions of the cloud would permit the sky to pretend that it was night. Then, after a bend in the road or a wind in the sky, the moon would jump out through a hole in the cloud. Just before I became hypnotized by the headlight’s tunnel the full force of the moonlight would send actual shadows scurrying across the road in front of me. I imagined hearing the “thump-thump” as I ran them over.

Last weekend I was shoehorned into a conversation about Kim Kardashian’s boob job. Someplace in the conversation, after I had suggested that the time a woman spends basking in the attention of someone who examines her every curve and fault for comfort and familiarity is better invested than those spent under a knife, I was told that I could not appreciate beauty due to my atheism.

“Everything to you is ‘just’ science” I was told.

So this morning I ‘just’ surfed the electromagnetic wave-front of my planet’s mad dash through the galaxy. Moonlight glinted from my teeth as I ‘just’ smiled at the imperceptibly waning moon. Spring taunted me from ‘just’ south of the equator; promising warm days of relaxed company.

Perhaps I cannot appreciate beauty, but this may not be as unfortunate as it sounds on first blush. A tactile appreciation as a woman unfurls her beauty to the gentle exploration of my caress may, by definition, be unknowable to me. The sensation I can detect pulsing from her fresh-kissed lips and cheek is simple warmth reduced to some message-less Morse-code of pulse. My own pulse is ‘just’ an anomaly hinting at coronary blockage. If I think I am experiencing beauty it must be a simple delusion; words describing it are just a confusion of empty sounds. If I speak of my delusion in a whisper, just close enough to her ear that my words drip with the humidity of passion, there is a chance that she might harvest another reason to appreciate her own beauty. So at least I can try to be of service to others; despite my handicap.

Shouldn’t we all try and help the other members of our species?

The Train

My company provides a shower to it's workers. This comes in handy after a lunchtime ride or a run. The shower is in a locker room type setting. Yesterday, while I was showering after lunch a couple of other folks were horsing around with an air powered horn. These things are very loud inside. Picture how nice you sound to yourself when singing in the shower. You have a more powerful voice and may even be on key. Similar effects are lent to an air-horn when it is discharged in a shower room. Person A snuck in while person B was shampooing their hair and let loose with the air-horn. I did not notice person A until I was leaping out of my skin. Needless to say I peed myself, but since I was naked and in the shower no one noticed. Unfortunately for person A he happens to be in my van-pool.

My commute is a long one, over 60 miles, and it crosses a set of railroad tracks about 2/3 of the way home. The route travels over a mountain pass with many twists and turns and most people choose sleeping over carsickness. Almost everyone besides the driver are lightly asleep when the railroad tracks are crossed. Sometimes people wake slightly at the bumpy track crossing. The people in my van-pool have been passing over the tracks twice a day for over a decade and there is a subconscious tensing that occurs as a programmed response to the approach of the tracks. Sleepers go from half asleep to a quarter asleep for the few minutes that precede the tracks. This period of vulnerability is unique and I would make good use of it.

Person B is also in my van-pool and made it clear that he would be a willing accomplice in my revenge.

As we approached the tracks I slowed down slightly and commented out loud “ why is everyone slowing down”? I then sped up as if I was passing some folks. Mr B took his que and stated “Aren't you going to stop?” while handing me the air-horn. I prepped the air-horn while murmuring “What are you talkin' about?”. Person B then yelled “TRAIN”. At this point person A's head whipped up as he was completely awake. After the millisecond needed for him to see that we were indeed at the train tracks I let loose with the air-horn. I believe he crapped his pants at this point. I had no idea that human eyes could open so wide. It is perhaps a vestigial adaptation related to our reptilian ancestors who like modern snakes could perhaps open their mouths to swallow prey many times their size.

I should include a note of warning. This sort of malarkey is dangerous while driving. For several minutes I was laughing so hard that tears partially obscured my driving. On the bright side I did not know that person A was so fluent in French.