Suicidal Seagull

I love to see seagulls in flight.  They fly so gracefully.  It seems almost magical the way they hang themselves in the air where the water meets the beach.   Near my house, there is a bridge where the seagulls love to drop their clams.  They drop the clams from 20 or 30 feet in the air then dive bomb right behind the tumbling clam.  A foot or two above the bridge deck they pull up, gracefully land, scoop up the clam meat and fly off to enjoy their snack.

I used to wonder why they immediately went into a precipitous dive when they dropped the clam.  The reason is because seagulls are not polite and they are very opportunistic.  They will steal each others food — in mid air.

The other day, one of the brown seagulls in the area dropped a clam and went into a dive.  You probably don’t think too much about seagull behavior.  I don’t either except when I’m driving by the beach.  Every time I need to go into town or get on the highway I must cross this bridge so I see a lot of seagull behavior.  My mind is pretty active so even if I’m singing along with the radio I still have enough spare cycles to watch the seagulls.  I began to wonder, do they get sick? Do seagulls have autism?  Are there ADHD seagulls.  Well this particular seagull definately had a handicap.  I believe it had poor depth perception and a thick skull.   Unfortunately, this time, it didn’t pull up in time and smashed into the bridge deck.  The clam was murdered but the seagull committed accidental suicide.

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Transcontinental Flight 676

Flight 676, non-stop from New York to Los Angeles was the epitome of convenience and comfort for its passengers. In the time that it used to take a wagon driver to go from the north end of the island of Manhattan to the southern tip this flight would go from the East Coast to the West Coast. Climate controlled, with tasty snacks served by attractive people were an added bonus. A few wrinkles on their clothes and a slight stiffness were the only side effects to the trip.

About halfway through the trip the plane ran into the bane of summer travel. Rising hot air tossed the plane to an fro and made the trip seem much less comfortable. Seasoned travels barely noticed and continued to work or sleep. The novices and the timid were truly nervous, even frightened.

The two experienced passengers on row 37 were suddenly brought face to face with a freakish nightmare. A crack in the fuselage widened to dangerous proportions. The change in cabin pressure was immediately noticed by the planes sophisticated avionics. The pilots took immediate action by descending from their 30,000 foot cruising level to a lower altitude. At 25,000 feet the crack burst open and air was leaving the cabin. The oxygen masks deployed and the screams began. The pilots radioed a mayday and began emergency checklist procedures. As they neared 20,000 feet, an unbelievable event occurred. The fuselage ripped open and both seats and a portion of the floor on row 37 were ripped out of the plane. Pandemonium broke out in the cabin. The flight attendants, strapped to their jump seats, could no longer comfort the passengers. Loose purses, baggage and magazines were sucked from the airplane in a frightening cacophony of sound. The pilots tense but in control updated the FAA on the situation as best as they could determine, since they couldn’t see through the closed cockpit doors and there are no rear-view mirrors on an airplane. The pilots increased the rate of descent and managed to safely land the plane at a nearby military base. The passengers cried, laughed, vomited and expressed their relief and concern. All were safe.

What about the two men on row 37. Here’s where our tale turns bizarre. At 20,000 feet there is not enough oxygen to stay alive for very long. Our two hapless passengers plummeted toward earth at ever increasing speed gasping desperately for life giving oxygen. At 18,000 feet the danger of death by asphyxiation was no longer an issue but they were still plummeting toward earth out of control. Terminal velocity is the fastest a falling object will go when solely pulled upon by earth’s gravity. The pair had reached terminal velocity. One man had the presence of mind to pull out his video camera and start filming his last and most exciting trip. He screamed against the howling wind in an effort to describe a distant cloud that looked like an easter bunny. He turned the camera downward and yelled descriptions of the approaching farmlands and small towns. He whooped like an excited teenager on the biggest roller coaster in the world. At the sound of a truck backfiring he turned the camera to his face and shouted, “I only have a few seconds! What a ride! I love you all!” He tucked the camera to his belly bent over it and hugged his knees.

The two men hit a hay barn. They ripped through the roof like a bullet through toilet paper and penetrated all the hay bales. Remember that they were still strapped to their seats which was still attached to a portion of the aircraft floor. The whole mass tunneled several feat into the earth. Broken bones, internal organs and blood decorated the area in a gruesome manner. As the coroner’s staff collected the remains they found the camera encased in the man’s body. Its outside was damaged as the man’s spine whipped through his body upon impact. Yet the magnetic cartridge was intact.

The tape was given to the cameraman’s family. The replay was bizarre in the extreme as it told not one story but two. The cameraman attempted to record his last adventure but he also recorded the macabre last few moments of his row-mate. After the two quit gasping for breath the other man began crying out to God. “Save me! Save me!” could be heard over the cameraman’s description of the easter bunny. The howling of the wind was later penetrated by the cameraman’s idyllic descriptions of the farmland fast approaching but the cries of the other man turned to yells as he began to negotiate, “God I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything. Save me!” A truck could be heard backfiring in the background. At this point despair set in and his sobs and cries contrasted creepily with the cameraman’s roller-coaster whoops. “God doesn’t listen. He’s not real. It’s all phony.” While the cameraman declared his awe and family love the other man’s final words were a string of curses punctuated by the bang of their explosive impact

Once born, we all plummet uncontrollably toward the end of our natural life. We have a choice to make. Like the cameraman we can take note of the world around us and whoop-it-up at the marvels we see or we can cry, beg, and finally curse God before we die. The choice belongs to the individual and no one can make that choice for them. The end-point is the same. We all die. Whether or not we enjoy the ride and spread wonder and love to those around us is completely up to us.

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Maybe You Can Take It with You

Marcel loved to walk. Daily he would walk to the end of his street and take a left at the beach and walk until he came to the point. Depending on the tide, he picked one of his favorite boulders, sit on it and meditate about the wonders of God’s creation. There were two other things Marcel loved. He loved to help and he loved the color of gold. At work, he would never shy away from a tough problem or a disagreeable task. Some people called him a “brown-noser” but the promotions and bonuses came anyway. When someone was in trouble they called Marcel. He was the same way at church. He would do whatever was asked. Gold, for some reason, had an especially strong fascination for him. He collected gold coins and would invest small sums of money in gold futures on the commodities market.

The months passed. The years passed. The decades passed. With the passing of time, it took longer and longer to make the round-trip along the beach. Finally, it became clear, Marcel would soon die. On the last day of spring, with a fresh breeze blowing through his hair, he looked down on the beach he could no longer walk upon. He said in a clear voice, “I’m satisfied.” Then he died.

The reading of Marcel’s will started out as a somber event. Marcel had no children and his wife had passed away long before he did. But he did have plenty of nieces and nephews. Each received a monetary gift in relation to what he knew about each one and what they knew about him. Tabitha’s parents, from his wife’s side, were “no accounts” but Tabitha was a hard worker with dreams of being a surgeon. She, like Marcel, would take on any task and worked hard at everything she did. Tabitha got the large part of Marcel’s money. Dwayne, on the other hand received a single dime. But the strangest part of the will was how Marcel wanted to be buried. In the will he requested that the room be emptied of everyone but his pastor, his best friend Clyde, and the executor. Marcel wanted to be buried with a bag containing two bars of gold. He sighted Psalm 37 and Mark 11 which he said guaranteed that it would be ok.

When Marcel approached the Pearly Gates to meet St. Peter, sure enough, he found his bag of gold in his hand just as he and expected. Peter asked, “What have you in the bag?” Marcel, answered, of the most beautiful things God has ever created nothing compares with the shine and color of gold so I brought some with me. Peter retorted, “You dared to bring filthy lucre with you to the holy heavens of God?” “Not filthy lucre! Gold! Part of God’s good creation. He told us where to find the gold in Genesis 3. And in Psalms 37 he said I could have the desires of my heart. And in Mark 11, He said I could have whatever I desired. And I have more verses if you want them” Peter was shocked. No one had ever brought anything with them to heaven. So, he got on the phone and checked with the main office. “Yes, he has it in a bag. …. As a matter of fact he did mention Psalms. … Yes that one too and he says he has more. What? Ok.” Well, Marcel, you and your bag may enter.

As Marcel walked through the gates he was spellbound by the beauty of heaven and awed by the exuberant joy and sublime peace he felt. Soon, he came to some people. He felt he knew them but he didn’t. They welcomed him heartily, like twin sisters after a long separation. They immediately asked to see what he had in the bag. At first he hesitated, then he remembered where he was. He thought to himself, “Why should I be ashamed or afraid. This is part of God’s creation. And if I can’t trust my brothers and sisters in heaven then where could anyone be safe.” So, he handed the bag to a bearded man who looked like he had a lived a long time. A strange look came across the man’s face and he said, “Interesting!” Then the bag went to a younger man who smiled and exclaimed, “Astounding” Finally, the bag went to a young boy. He opened the bag and exclaimed, “Hey mister, why’d you bring pavement?” and handed the bag back to Marcel. Marcel looked in the bag then looked at the street. He was standing on the fabled streets of gold! For a moment he felt embarrassed then he let out a hearty laugh and tossed the bag to the side of the road and walked away with his new family.

Maybe you can take it with you, but why bother.

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Tortured in Hell

Gloria had been working overtime plus a part-time job for the last 6 months saving up for this trip. She was flying back home for a month to be with family and to help her best friend who was about to have a baby. She packed super-light by fitting all her possessions into one carry-on bag and her large purse. She got the cheapest fair by taking an indirect route and two different airlines. Everything was planned to the “T.” Unfortunately, the weather threw a wrench into the two-airline plan. She knew she’d have a layover but the weather delayed flights and she was stuck in the airport for the next 5 hours in the middle of the night. She didn’t want to spend the money on a hotel room for just a few hours nor spend the money on a cab to see the city. What would she see anyway at 3 in the morning. So, she tried to sleep. Airports are a little creepy at night when you’re alone. The unfamiliar noises, the cleaning staff and their infernal vacuum cleaners and conspiratorial hushed tones conspired to drive sleep away. About two hours into her stay in lay-over hell she started to relax enough to fall asleep. She would start to fall asleep but then a leg or arm would slide off the slick, genuine-imitation leather chairs. She thought about just laying on the floor but she felt too exposed. “Crap!” she yelled as her head snapped backwards giving her a whiplash-like pop. The two-second nap was interrupted by that head-snapping movement that is so funny to watch but terrible to experience.

Three hours to go. She hung legs over the arm of one chair and rested her feet on her bag. Then she tucked each arm under the opposite armpit, leaned forward and rested her head on the edge of the seat. Finally, sleep came. Suddenly, the set of 6 seats was jolted by a six-foot two goofy nerd and his laptop bag and overnighter. She jerked to attention ready to fight any would-be attacker. “I’m sorry did I wake you?” said he. “No, I was just sleeping.” she faked a half-polite, half-sarcastic smile and repositioned herself in an attempt recapture dreamland. Inside she was fuming. Out of the 836 chairs in the area, which she counted earlier out of boredom, why did he have to sit here? Oh my god she thought to herself. He’s either dangerous or available. After 30 hours without sleep and all the rigors of travel she wouldn’t have cared if he was Brad Pitt. In her head she just screamed, “Go AWAY!”

She was already in lay-over hell, now the torture started. He started talking to her. She discovered his name, his height, his weight where he was from where he’s going and where he went to school. She tried to be polite and tell him that she was really tired and needed to catch some sleep. He would apologize and shut up for about 3 minutes. Just enough for her to get within two winks of sleepy-land. But he was a nervous talker. He’d either start talking to himself or his computer.

She swung her legs back on the floor and put her bag back on the ground. He took this as an invitation of some sort and moved one seat closer and started talking to her.

“Let’s a play a game”

“A game? What kind of game? I’m tired.” she said nervously.

“I’ll ask you a question and if you don’t know the answer I win. Then you do the same. We’ll make it interesting and bet on the outcome.”

“No way! You just spent the last 45 minutes telling me about how smart you are and your success at MIT.” she said with horror as she realized this guy had been talking to a woman for 45 minutes and didn’t realize she was ignoring him.

“Ah come on. I’ll make it fair. A hundred if I lose and only five if you lose.”

She wasn’t desperate for money, she saved up quite a bit, but a hundred would sure be nice. He caught the glint in her eye and said “Great, it’ll be fun. You go first”

Gloria said, “All right. What goes up a mountain on three legs and comes down on two?” “That’s easy,” said Rich. But the words kept getting stuck in his mouth. Like panicked stutterer he just couldn’t get it out. Suddenly he stood up and started pacing. Gloria could tell this was going to take some time so she plopped her legs on her bag and slumped into the chair and promptly fell asleep. About 15 minutes later she woke up, opened one eye lid. She could hear him feverishly typing on his laptop with his back to her. In the window she could see the reflection of his laptop. He was searching Google! She smiled to herself and settled back into slumber. About twenty minutes later his voice woke her up. He was in a corner talking to someone asking them for help. It wasn’t really fair but she was enjoying herself knowing he was spinning in the wind.

She awoke again to the sounds of the airport coming alive and people milling around getting ready for the next flight. Her flight. He sat two seats away just kind of staring a hole in her. She stretched like a cat, smiled and said good morning. He just scowled at her and handed her a crisp one hundred dollar bill. “Now,” he said, “ what goes up a mountain on three legs and comes down on two?” She stuck her feet back in her Berkinstocks, reached into her pocket, pulled out a five and handed it to him. “I don’t know” she said as she walked to the gate.

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