Pondering at Ten

A few weeks ago I found Old Mr. Rag sitting on a park bench staring at nothing.

“What are you doing today, Mr. Rag?” I asked.

“Oh nothing,” he responded. “I’m just passing the time.”

I went to say something, but he had resumed staring at nothing, so I thought it best to let him be.

The next day I found him on the same park bench staring at nothing.

“Are you still passing the time, Mr. Rag?” I asked.

“You betcha,” he replied and went back to staring at nothing.

The day after I met Mr. Rag at the park bench again.

“Mr. Rag, are you still staring at nothing?” I said.

“Yep,” he replied and turned to stare again.

“Shouldn’t you be out doing something? I mean sitting here and staring can’t be fun.”

“No, it’s incredibly boring,” he responded firmly.

“But you’re old, Mr. Rag” I said. “You don’t have much time left.”

“I want my time to last as long as it can. And time lasts longer if you’re bored. Now, if you don’t mind.” And he went back to starting at nothing.

Old Mr. Rag died a few years later. Officially he lived to be 78, but at that rate, he must’ve been alive for a couple hundred years.

Pondering at Nine

It was a bright sunny day in July when the aliens came. By August, they had taken over the world. By September they had tired of the planet and decided to leave.

“We’ve had our fun, so we’ll be going now,” they announced.

So they gathered everything on the planet and loaded it onto their spaceship. By the time they finished taking what they wanted, the land was barren. There were no trees, no grass, no cities, no animals, no food, and no water.

“Wait, what will you leave for us?” cried the desperate humans.

“Hmm, let us see...” replied the aliens. They went back into their ship to look for something to give the humans. They returned with all of the world’s hot dogs they had taken. “Here take these," they said. "They’re of no use to us.”

And so the aliens gave the hot dogs back to the humans and returned to their spaceships. Within seconds they were gone.

“Well, at least we have the hot dogs,” the humans said before letting out a great sigh.

Pondering at Eight

I see brown and green coming at me a thousand feet per second. I see sparks of yellow. I see red. Then all is black. My eyes blink and I see a giant pool of red. Then all is black.
...
My eyes blink and I see brilliant yellow tinted blue, cut with streaks of white. Then I fall and I see red. Then all is black.
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My eyes blink and I see red, then white, then red, then white, then crystal clear tears, then red. Then all is black.
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My eyes blink and I see nothing. A screeching perpetual tone fills my ears and everything around me. Then I see red, white, black, blue, yellow, green, purple, orange, brown. All the colors blend together. Then in a bright blinding flash, all is dark.
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I try to remember what happened, but all is dark.
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I try to think of who is gone, but all is dark.
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I try to think of regrets, of what I wanted to do, but never did, but all is dark.
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I think of the people I left behind, never gave thanks to, never said I love you to, never said goodbye to, but all is dark.
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I try to think of something, anything, but all is dark, all is dark, all is dark.
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Then I realize. I’m not dead. I haven’t been born yet. I still have my whole life ahead of me. It is not dark. It is blank. It is yet to be colored. Then in a bright blinding flash all is white.
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My eyes blink and I see red, then green, then blue, purple, yellow, orange, brown, and black and suddenly all the colors blend together.
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My eyes blink and the colors fall into place. Images appear. I’m in the hospital. My family is all around me. Everything is in its right place. I am here and all is clear.

Pondering at Seven

I’ve got nothing, I’ve got nothing, I’ve got nothing but me.

I’ve got nothing but me, I’ve got nothing but me, I’ve got nothing but me and you.

I’ve got nothing but me and you, I’ve got nothing but me and you, I’ve got nothing but me and you and popsicles and fireflies and snow days and stealing kisses and puppies and watching cartoons and Arbor Day and going to the circus and getting the prize in the cereal box and listening to stories and climbing trees and telling your family you love them and spreading that love all over the world!!!!

By golly, I guess I do have something! I do have something! I do have something!

Lets see, what else do I have...

Enriched uranium?!?!

KABOOM!!!!!!!!
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Now I don’t even have myself. Drat.

Pondering at Six

Hey, if I stop believing in you, what’ll happen? Well, I’m going to try anyway. Ok, ok, How about, you stop believing in me? Does that sound more appealing? Ok. Good. Now when I say go, stop believing in me, k? You got it? Ok, good. Now, GO!............
Hmm. Nothing. I thought I was gonna, like, disappear or something. Oh well. What? You don’t think you got it right? Ok, let’s try again. And Go!...........
Nothing again, huh. I don’t think you’re really trying. You really gotta lose the faith, k? Ok, Go!..................
Nothing again huh. Well I don’t you think have the knack for not believing in me. I mean I’m still typing, right? If you did really stop believing in me, I’d probably disapp

Pondering at Five

Sixteen billion years ago a shard of energy said yes and expanded into infinity, creating the universe. Fourteen hundred years ago a paranoid Roman king scarcely conscious converted to Christianity and brought an entire empire with him to the endless shut-eye. Twenty years ago a gay flight attendant brought AIDS to North America because he didn’t practice safe sex. And today at 3:46 PM I’m sitting on one of the cold foldout metal chairs arranged as a circle in the Matthew Room of the Frank Wellen Center for the Mentally Unsound and it is my turn to talk.
“Hi, I’d like to-“
“Please Mr. Darson, do not interrupt Mr. Fuller when it is his turn to talk.”
Maybe Not.
“Sorry Dave.”
Dave drones on and on about how his girlfriend dumped him and how he holed himself in his room for weeks and his Vitamin C addiction (“I never get sick anymore and it depresses me”).
“Ok, Mr. Darson, it is your turn--”
“Can I trade you seats, Mr. Darson?”
“David, what did I just tell Mr. Darson?”
“Sorry.”
“Ok, Mr. Darson, you were saying?
“Hi, I just wanted to announce that I’ve learned from Death himself that I’m going to die tonight. Dave, you’ve wanted to sit in my chair for about six years now, so tomorrow it’s yours.”
Tonight I will die. Tomorrow my daughter will find out and cry. In sixty years she’ll tell her granddaughter how much she loves her. Waiting in infinity is the end of the beginning of the end of the universe. And now is the only time you’ll ever have to offer your seat to someone else.

Pondering at Four

“The war in Darfur, Sudan begin in 2003,” began the documentary. “Hundreds of villages have been destroyed and tens of thousands of people have died as a result of the conflict.” The documentary grew more intense. “Militias have chased more than one million people from their homes. Many have taken up shelter in structures made of sticks and grass.” On screen, a group of men began to mercilessly beat another man with the butts of their rifles. “The International Crisis group estimates that disease and starvation will kill 350,000 people if the world fails to quell the violence involving rebels and government sponsored militias.” Several small children appeared on screen. Their bones portuded from their bodies, giving the audience full view of their innards. They stumbled as they walked over the cracked dusty ground. “Over a hundred thousand children are currently going days without food. Efforts will most likely not be enough to save them.” The documentary froze the screen and addressed the audience. “Well what do you have to say for yourselves?”
“Munch, Munch, Munch,” replied the audience as they shoved $4.25 popcorn into their mouths and sipped their $3.50 sodas. “That was a pretty good movie,” they said as they exited the theater. “A little depressing though.”

Pondering at Three

After the massive rush that was “The Great Push,” the sperm was a little disoriented. “Was I supposed to go left? Right?” he thought as he confusedly moved along the massive tunnel. “All of those guys are going left, so maybe I should follow. But wait those guys are going right. Wait, is that a tunnel going up? Nobody ever said anything about tunnels going up” The sperm was scared and beginning to feel a little sick. He began to swim desperately. He didn’t know where he was going, but he was going to get there! He looked back to see if anyone had followed and ran smack into a large object. He turned around and saw he had unwittingly found the Great Egg! And he was the first one there! After a short celebration dance, he quickly burrowed himself into the warm innards of the Great Egg. Nine months later the baby was born. Life was never the same for the people of Luxembourg again.

Pondering at Two

A few days ago I ate a salad. I was about to puncture the last little piece of lettuce when she cried out from the pool of Italian dressing she was bathing in. “No, don’t eat me!” she pleaded. “But I’m hungry, I’m a human and you’re a piece of lettuce.” I replied. “I’m supposed to eat you. That’s just the way it goes.” This did not convince the piece of lettuce to reevaluated her position in the world and accept her fate. She gathered up her anger and loudly protested my short sightedness. “So I supposed the Native Americans were just supposed to be kicked off their lands by the European settlers. That’s just the way it goes. And the Africans were just supposed to be enslaved by the slave owners. That’s just the way it goes. And the Jews just supposed to be genocided by Hitler. That’s just how it is. Is that how you want it to be?” I sat back. The lettuce had made a good point. I was just the newest oppressor in a long history of oppression. I really had to reevaluate my position in the world. The lettuce smiled at my progress. Then I popped her into my mouth and ate her. Afterward I burped. Satisfaction.

Pondering at One

The loudest cheer I've ever heard at a concert was in 2002 at the Civic Auditorium for a band called Korn. I got there about twenty minute before the band went on. Hairy arms had poked through the top of the standing floor crowd and were pointing at various girls seated above or on a large man's shoulders. One girl, no more than nineteen or twenty with the help of a guy, perhaps her boyfriend, climbed from the floor to an open area before the first seating level. In unison, the three hundred or so hairy arms suddenly turned counter clockwise to point at the girl. And with quiet aplomb, she grabbed her shirt and lifted it to her eyeballs. Her rather large breasts initially travelled with the shirt before changing their minds halfway, causing them, upon reaching their original positions to bounce back up. The response was immediate and deafening. The heavy bass of the men's voices shook my innards more than any of their car stereos could ever hope to. There were a lot of high fives too. After she reshirted herself and obliged the crowd to an encore, I turned and saw a ten-year old kid wearing a Bush T-Shirt with the largest eyes I've ever seen.