Reality, What is it Good For?
May 20, 2002
7:32 a.m.
Here's an actual headline on my Internet news service this morning. "Suicide Bomber Blows Himself Up." Well, duhhhhhh. Luckily, this story was about the guy that didn't take anyone with him. Maybe the headline could have read "Suicide Bomber Misses." Or "Suicide Bomber Wins Gold in Twit Olympics."   It's one of those kinds of mornings. I'm trying to decide what to work on next, and making fun of a suicide bomber is about the most benign of the possible chores. Phil Yager, a friend of mine from my days in Indianapolis, stopped by yesterday. He had taken his daughter on their annual pilgrimage to the horse track in Louisville, an they paused on their way home to have dinner with us. We had partially grilled, partially broiled burgers (hey, the gas ran out ... it's a long story). We talked about people we knew and we talked about baseball. (Phil was a charter member of the fantasy baseball league I started back then. His Hamfighters won the inaugural Gumby--which was our traveling trophy--something that I've only barely forgiven him for). I used to play basketball at least once a week with those guys. And golf in the summer. I've never been very good at golf, but it's fun to think I might someday. [grin] Sometimes I wonder about reality. What is it? Quantum physics says reality may not be real at all ... at least not how we think of real. You know, solid things that stay around forever. Quantum physics says there's a chance for all realities, all events. It says that if you hang around long enough that bookshelf in your library will eventually turn into a Ferrari with 450 horsepower under the hood. I check the living every time I go upstairs, just in case Bohr and Schrodinger were right. Since I haven't gotten my Ferrari, I'm forced to ponder a more valuable view of reality. And that reality is a bunch of people I know wandering around and doing the things they need to do to get by and to have good lives. I certainly assume the Phil did not wink out of existence the minute he turned left on Goeller and drove out of my line of site. Or, maybe he did. Maybe he just made up all those things he told me to bring me up to date. And maybe in telling me these things, he has enacted a Wag the Dog reality that proves the theory right. Who the heck can tell? Maybe he stole that first Gumby right from under my nose merely by showing me a rigged copy of USA Today and I never was the wiser. Geez. What the heck am I thinking? Sometimes I'll do anything to get out of work. But, then, if you didn't actually read this maybe I would have been really productive. So the way I see it is that my slothful morning is now your fault, you dastardly observers. Have a great day.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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