A Flying Boat

Yesterday, I nearly smacked into a boat.

I might expect to crash into a boat if I were, say, skimming across a lake in my own boat.  I might expect an errant boat flying at me if one suddenly lurched out of control alongside me as I crossed the causeway with water immediately at both sides of the road.

Not so yesterday.

I almost hit a flying boat while driving down Lincoln Road at 65 miles-per-hour, surrounded by fields of alfalfa and pastures.

Only a few seconds before I whisked by a truck towing a 12-foot aluminum fishing boat in the opposite direction, I saw the prow of the boat lift up and shudder in the air.   I immediately pressed my brakes and drifted to the shoulder of the highway.  The boat lifted entirely, flipped over in midair, and landed on my side of the road only a second before the truck flew past me.

I managed to avoid hitting the boat and pulled off the road a few feet beyond where the craft lay upside-down on highway.

Weirdly enough, the man driving the truck noticed neither my obvious evasive driving nor the boat flipping up from his trailer.

The truck continued on.

A second truck, which had been following the first at a considerable distance, pulled to a stop near the boat with emergency flashers blinking.   I trotted out to drag the boat from the roadway.  The driver of the second truck leapt from the driver’s door to help.

“I see you got yourself a new boat,” the other motorist quipped as we dragged the boat over to the edge of the road and flipped it down into the grass alongside.

“And I wasn’t even in the market for one,” I said.  “Thanks for the help.”

“Good job on the driving.”

“Thanks.  If you happen to bump into the guy who lost the boat, tell him it's here.”

We parted and went on with the rest of a mostly normal day.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Bite

Imagine one small alteration to reality.  In this case, instead of the poison from a rattlesnake bite making someone sick or causing death, the venom compels those stuck to blurt out “all hockey players must fall!” at inappropriate times if nervous for the first three months following the strike.

Sadly, while vacationing in the Southwest United States, the Secretary of Defense is struck by a rattler while hiking with his grandchildren.  Not long thereafter, the Secretary is summoned back to Washington, D.C., because American interests have come under siege in a country whose name the President constantly mispronounces.

A meeting of the National Security Council, including the Secretary of Defense, goes poorly from the start.  The President insists the problem country is Canada because he cannot pronounce the name of the actual place.  After a briefing by a four-star general exploring all military options, the floor is given to the Secretary of Defense.

“What do you suggest?” asks the President.

“I’ve always been rather fond of Canada,” the Secretary admits.

“But we cannot tolerate a rogue state!” the President howls from his end of the meeting table.  He stands.  “I need you to tell me what you would do.”

The Secretary of Defense twitches a little.

And the course of history would be much different had the Secretary of Defense not been struck by that rattlesnake.

—Mitchell Hegman

Under the Stars

Imagine all of us gone…to the last person, gone.

I did so early this morning while sitting under the stars, just as I did yesterday. 

This morning, I watched another of our orbiting machines extend across the entire firmament.  The machine flashed brightly every so often.  Sometimes, the machine slipped behind clouds.  But the motion remained steady and direct from end to end.

I imagined us gone, but the machine still circling above.

The machine still seeking to communicate: Are you there?  Hello Friends On Earth.  Are you with me?   Do you still need me?

—Mitchell Hegman

Faraway

I woke early this morning and rapidly filled with faraway thinking.  Unable to melt back into sleep, I slipped into my robe and wafted out to my hot tub in the predawn.

All the stars lay before me as I climbed into the steamy water and gazed skyward.

Just as I noticed four stars forming a near perfect square directly above me, a drifting speck of light entered the square.  I watched the speck cross through the space between the corner stars.

That light obviously of man.  Ephemeral.  Taking quick measure of something.

Vladimir, is that you?

I lost sight of the speck soon after it crossed through the square.

Measure taken.

—Mitchell Hegman

Scenes from a day in the Mountains

Posted today are photographs and a 10 second video from a day in the mountains.

After the Bloom

After the Bloom

Huckleberries

Video of Sun-showers

—Mitchell Hegman

Cats: Questions and Answers

Question: Why does your female cat just sit there, looking at you instead of coming inside, when you swing the door open to let her in?

Answer: Because the cat looks sexy just sitting there.  The cat is giving you an extended opportunity to admire her.  You should be happy.

Question: After capturing a mouse, why does your cat bring the mouse to you as an offering?

Answer: Because dead mice are sexy and the cat knows you are too slow to catch them.

Question: Why are all cats so stand-offish?

Answer: Sexy.  End of story.

—Mitchell Hegman

Waking Human

Some days, you wake feeling wobbly and cautious as a newborn deer painted by first light.  Other days, you wake and emerge from your bed feeling sure and sturdy as a predator freshly emerged from the earth.

This morning, I woke feeling entirely human and needing to pee.  So I hugged my pillow and fell back to sleep for a bit more.

—Mitchell Hegman