The Importance Of "unimportant" Things

By Author: Donald Ladew
Total Articles: 5
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This is an essay about maintaining perspective, of remembering that not everything is as bad as it appears on first look.
I can't wear this dress! It's two days out of style. [Author exaggerated the time a little] No one wears earrings like that, George! Don't be an idiot. Don't fight it guys, just get out the checkbook. Realize right now that there are some things you weren't meant to understand. And for God's sake forget being logical. Don't get reasonable and explain how dresses or earrings don't matter. You have been reading the newspaper and note sadly that ethnic cleansing is happening again in some East European backwater. You think this is important if only because it is so terrible that people still can't solve a problem without shooting, hacking, or mutilating someone. Your son Tim walks in the door looking like something out of a pod in Aliens: spikes of purple hair sprout from his semi-shaven head. An assortment of metal objects have been grafted onto his nose, ears, eyebrows, lips, tongue and God knows where else. An LSD drenched tattoo artist has engraved your fine boy's body with assortment ...
... of iconography seldom seen outside of a 16th century painting of hell. You want to scream in rage and tell him to get that crap off his body before you peal it off with a carving knife. He replies with a vocabulary you haven't heard since you were in the Navy. Stay calm, stay calm: Take a long walk. Remember, the light from the star Wolf 203 takes 14 light years to reach Earth. Before this apparition beamed in from Planet X you were contemplating getting another job because taxes are eating you alive and there isn't going to be enough money for Sam's college. And adding insult to injury, Joe at work told you that scientists have recently discovered that there is a one-in-four chance that Earth will be struck by a four hundred-ton meteor in the next five years. You're sitting in the garden beneath the Orange tree after work sipping a glass of Bass Ale, at peace with the world. You have avoided the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune once again. A Harley-Davidson motorcycle rumbles down the street with two people on it. It pulls into your driveway. The driver revs the engine. Your cat drops dead from fright and windows shatter in the neighbor's house. Your daughter Sally, who has just turned sixteen and is the light of your life jumps off the back of the motorcycle. The driver removes a Darth Vader helmet and looks around at this suburban Eden with contempt. He's wearing twenty pounds of spiked leather, is at least thirty, and has a greasy ponytail. You instantly remember that you still have a fine Remington 12 gauge in the closet and what jury would blame you? Relax; forget the closet. Drink the rest of your Bass Ale. Consider the fact that George Burns was over a hundred years old when he died, and he smoked cigars larger than the mooring ropes on the Queen Mary. If you have to worry about something, remember that ozone hole over Antarctica. Geophysicists tell us it's changing the weather and pretty soon storms are going to rip the tundra off the Canadian wilderness and deposit the remains in Central America. As my son used to say before he became a thirty something conservative, chill Pop, it's not that bad. He was right of course. Sometimes it's difficult to get a clear perspective on the events of every day life on planet Earth. Advice from people who don't share your worries and frustrations, advice to take the long view are seldom appreciated. But the fact is, it's good advice if for no other reason than the alternatives. Ulcers, headaches, hives, sleeplessness, all the manifestations that druggists and chemical cartels love so well can make one forget that Sally gets A's in school, Sam makes a nice living as a plumber's assistant and still wants to go to college and Tim despite looking like a newly arrived alien, is healthy and has a fine sense of humor. About that shotgun: Perhaps you could just put it by your chair in the garden where the guy on the motorcycle can see it. You can pretend it's not that important but he'll think it is. About the Author Mr. Ladew has traveled and worked all over the world. He spent many years as an aerospace engineer. He works as a technical writer and trainer. Mr. Ladew is also a novelist (2 books published), writes articles, essays, short stories and Haiku. he has also written a best selling business book for mid-level supervisors.