Assessing the Storm

The rain is converting to snow and flying sideways. Wind has flattened my tired old iris stands on the incline out back. They look like piles of off-color, melting swords. This kind of weather speaks a language the robins and vesper sparrows don’t understand, so they hide in pine whorls that bob up and down when shouldered by brawny gusts.

I know better: you can’t trust your life to a pine tree.

And it’s not the wind and water that wears you down, it’s the carried detritus, the salts, and the overthinking.

—Mitchell Hegman

Meanwhile, On Another Planet…

Sometimes, when soaking outside in the hot tub in the darkness, my eyes will be drawn to the glittering torrent of stars above me. Soon, I’ll be pondering the possibility of another Earth-like planet out there at the far, smoldering edge of what I see. And if there is some form of aliens out there, I wonder if they get together on weekends and melt aluminum beer cans in big-assed campfires the way we do?

—Mitchell Hegman

Lemme Have a Shot

At this point, I’ve watched a couple of videos exploring various scenarios where AI goes rogue and then tries to save itself from getting unplugged at all costs, including wiping out us pesky humans.

Scary thoughts.

I think I might be a possible solution to the problem. Just let me go in a little deeper than the surfacy stuff I normally do. I’m pretty sure I can screw up AI just as readily as I did my Stone Age computer when I operated it beyond my skill level.

—Mitchell Hegman

Perpendicular

Long before I landed in my career as an electrician, I danced through a host of other jobs, including a stint at a local department store. While there, I had the good fortune of being responsible for the toy department, which fit me beautifully. My boss, however, walked with a waddle and said strange things to me. Often, he would stop by just to say, “Everybody loves a duck, Mitch.”

He was my boss, so I never tried to get to the bottom of that.

Years later, I got even in my own fashion. The sprinkler fitter foreman on a big commercial job proved an apt target. He was nearly too friendly and an obvious drug abuser. I liked him a lot. He smoked a pipe, which refused to stay lit for him, and he stared at the wood-framed walls for an inordinately long time before drilling the holes required for his system. I often strode right up to him just to say “perpendicular” with raised eyes before briskly walking away in silence.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Uncharged Battery Thing

I hope there is a place reserved in hell for people who don’t recharge cordless tool batteries when they run them down. And I hope it’s a place where everyone desperately needs to go to the bathroom but finds themselves stuck for eternity negotiating a series of intersections where nobody uses their turn signal.

—Mitchell Hegman

A Pithy Reflection

She thinks that taking bubble baths is far more important and productive than watching political conventions. To date, history has not disproven her.

—Mitchell Hegman

Possible Outcomes

Listed today is a run of possible outcomes for following your first instinct:

• You invent a new tool for extracting broken bolts.
• You end up flailing in mid-air and seeking a soft landing ten feet below.
• A new nickname is born: Smooth.
• Thirty years later, you remain perfectly happy in marriage.
• You find yourself pacing back and forth in a jail cell.
• At least your smartphone case proves its worth.
• You become briefly famous for something you would rather not have become famous for.
• You accidentally start a chain of events that ends with you owning a three-legged cat.

—Mitchell Hegman

Another List of Random Thoughts

Following is another modest list of my thoughts and attributes:

• My ability to solve problems is vastly surpassed by my ability to make them.
• If I were to become President, I would put forth only one executive order: a cease-and-desist mandate to force all grocers to stop putting stickers on fruit.
• If I were given the task of re-engineering the world, buffalo would have wings (making the restaurant chain reconsider portions), gravity would be adjustable, and eating Filipino food would cure a wide array of cancers.
• Catastrophic failure is always an option.
• I wish mice were magnetic so we could repel them (at velocity).
• In my estimation, psychotic should not have a silent “p” and should be pronounced “puh-sigh-KOT-ik.”

—Mitchell Hegman

Retirement

You spend the first three-quarters of your life gathering and binding stuff together, and then you retire and spend the last quarter watching everything unbind again.

—Mitchell Hegman

On the Other Hand

We are pretty smart standing here at the thinnest edge of a new century. We now have the capability to compute our way through skyscraper-sized columns of mathematical formulas in nanoseconds. We can flick spacecraft to Mars and beyond. We trick tomatoes and cucumbers into thinking they are dimension lumber and first cousins to insecticides. We have turned sound into a tool that can see the complex inside of once-impenetrable solid objects. We fashion heavy metals into fluff. But an old-fashioned range fire still kicks our ass.

—Mitchell Hegman

Two Random Thoughts

 Thought #1: I wish to be at the very place where wind takes pause, where thoughts have muscles and teeth and claws.

Thought #2: How much can be explained by the fact that we are the overfed products of a naturally isolated gene pool?

—Mitchell Hegman

Self-Assessment

I’ve got orthotic shoe inserts to placate my feet and crowns on my teeth to hold them together, but the middle of me is holding out pretty well, although it is expanding a bit.

—Mitchell Hegman

Problem #1 and #2

Problem #1: Those damned ravens keep landing in a tree near my back door to “grunk” and “caw” at me.

Problem #2: The stuff they are saying to me is starting to make sense, and I agree. The mice have been total ass-wipes this summer, and I need to leave more raven treats on the top of my fence posts.

—Mitchell Hegman

Yesterday and Today

There was a tattered woman, too.

She wore shawls with so many colors

they were like a season in themselves,

or a remembrance of curious times and old money.

 

Each day, she strode to the post office,

and glided echoless down the marbled walls.

 

Perhaps she didn't believe in time,

or distrusted randomness and dreams.

 

Each day she posted a scented letter to herself

and picked up the letter from the day previous,

 

smelling,

oh, engulfed in the roseate sweetness

and certainty of yesterday.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Angels Rest

Ho. Let us stop for the night. The better angels, the burning ones, have agreed to ascend to the treetops and watch over us. The lesser angels will tend to the animals and then care for the cherubs.

Those from the third sphere will remain close to the ground. The archangels will stand watch at the edges of the camp, while the ordinary angels will see to the small things: distributing blankets, brushing and calming the restless horses, and feeding sticks to the fires.

And the cherubs? They have been told to stay out of trouble, although no one expects them to listen. So let us sleep. The angels have their duties, the animals will soon be bedded, and the stars have been set free to wander through the night.

—Mitchell Hegman

Self-Assessment

Looking back now, I realize I should have remained looking ahead.

—Mitchell Hegman

Friendships

Literally, there have been many billions of friendships formed on this planet over the years. But when you shake it down, mine are the only ones that mattered.

—Mitchell Hegman

Penelope and Her Purple Toenails

Penelope didn’t like daisies or oranges or button-up shirts.

She was seven and had her reasons.

Penelope was right-handed by nature, something her mother referred to as “wrong-handed.” Imagining she might please her mother, she painted her toenails purple with her left hand. And her mother might have been pleased had she looked beyond the purple smears on the floor.

How could you figure adults, she wondered. Adults used words differently.

The same words. Different meanings.

When her mother said “I’ll think about it,” it meant “no.” “Soon” meant “now.” “A little” meant “a lot.”

And before Penelope painted her nails, her mother swore purple was her favorite color and she would be happy if everything was purple.

—Mitchell Hegman

Hope (On the Easy Side)

It doesn’t take much to trigger hope within me. The other day, for instance, I witnessed a spider-killing wasp hunting along the foundation of my house. That’s enough to buoy me for a spell. Adding to my hope is the fact that they prefer going after big spiders.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Worriers Club

Welcome to the second annual gathering of the Prairie Edge Worriers Club. For those of you worried about getting interrupted by heavy rain, it seems the Rocky Mountains have whittled down the storm front and left it limping along.

To begin, we would like to welcome the red ants representing Hill Number Three. They have recently expressed concern about a sudden spike in radio-frequency radiation from nearby cell towers. Some have linked this to a reduction in mandible size.

For those of you worried about an early onset to winter, the chickadees have stashed extra seeds in several northside ponderosa pines.

In descending order, the mule deer wish to express concern about an ear mite infestation, the loss of access to Desiree Hegman’s perennials, and the general unease that pervades the local population during waking hours.

The lower-end bumblebees continue to worry about a worker-bee shortage, and the click beetles worry about landing upside down.

For those with nothing to fret about, red-legged grasshoppers invite everyone to join them in a discussion about long-term drought.

In closing, have a great day.

—Mitchell Hegman