Maybe things aren’t as horrible as I imagine

I woke up this morning with a feeling to visit my friend John Pintard. John is the most easy going person I know. He doesn’t seem to mind if things work out his way or not. When we get together, I tell John my worries and fears and he laughs and laughs. It makes me feel that maybe things aren’t as horrible as I imagine.

I got dressed, stepped into in my time-machine, and set the dials for the year 1810, New York City, Scudder’s American Museum, where John works. I went into the building and showed the attendant my life-time pass. I bought the pass many trips ago for only twenty-five cents. In my up-to-date life, I buy very little. But when I go back in time, I go nuts with the purchases because everything is so cheap. I recently purchased an 800 foot Hindenburg airship. It only cost me $300. I use it as my car. However, I fill it with helium rather than hydrogen so it won’t explode.

I walked past the lamb with two-heads, the guillotine beheading a wax figure, and a taxidermied President Millard Fillmore that moved its arms and shouted, “What, me worry?” I found my friend John in his office. He leaned way back in his creaky chair, put a piece of straw in his mouth, tucked his thumbs in his suspenders, and said, “Why if it isn’t my good chum, Hubbuby! Take a seat, lad.”

I sat across from John and shared my frustrations and foibles. John laughed so hard he slid halfway out of his chair. I felt a little better. He said, “In moments of pain and derision, we often react as if we are being attacked by a pack of wolfhounds. But if we avoid the wincing, we behold the sun shining out the arse of our misfortune.”