ON LINES

AN ESSAY ON LINES.
On Democracy?
On the Republic?
On Manifest Destiny?
On Heritage?
On Liberty?
Or maybe my favorite On Self Reliance?

NO NO;-------- JUST ON LINES!



I carried in the groceries the other night not realizing that I was spilling out on the carpet a long white powdery line of laundry detergent from a broken box; bought cheap at the COSTCO.

I got out the vacuum cleaner and started sucking it all up till I felt faint, my heart was pounding, and my face turned red, then white, then blue.
I damn near passed out!

The whole time I was sucking up that white line I had been holding my breath!



My Uncle Helmer got him a job one time pulling the plow behind a tractor for a real nice fellow who owned a farm out on the great Dakota plains.
The land owner gave Helmer an incentive so he'd continue the boring task of plowing fields so vast that you could barely see the future end of the rows.

The land owner stashed little bottles of whisky, like you used to get on airplanes, at the end of every other run of the tractor rows.

By God, every morning those rows where straight and true. Then, by and by as the day wore on Helmer's mind would get to wandering, and his creativity would set in; at the expense of the straight line plow furrows that had characterized his earlier work.



Thank God for those wonderful folks with the uncluttered minds.

I drive along the highway and wonder about the simple genius of the white line painted there to my left. Everyone honors it. We are all very careful not to cross it.
The danger seems obvious if you don't follow simple common sense law.
The consequences can be terrible and are well known.

NOW IF you gave me a big can of paint and a brush you would find my paint all over the place. There would be paint in my hair, on my pants, in the bushes along the banks of a trout stream, in magazines and books, on the piano, on the screen of the TV, on my wife and kids. There would be Jackson Pollock like paint all across my entire imaginary landscape.

Yet, I drive down the highway minding my own business with the white line marking terrible danger just to my left and I am remain relatively safe. I am mindful of what might be if I drift too far, too long, over the line.
It is for those, with the uncluttered minds, that draw those lines, whom I am utterly and eternally grateful. Seems obvious to me.

Waiting in lines so that you are sure you get your fair share of what's left, while less and less people are working to produce what the others are waiting in line for seems------- well------- "over the line".

Of course, if the "good people" of Government "promise" to produce the goods and services and run the line too, well, everything should be just fine.

Don't hold your breath.


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