Get a Cushion

 

   When a child asks how high the sky is, his or her parents decide it's time to talk about God. Buddhist parents admit they know little or nothing, but tell their child they can find out more by following a certain path. It sounds simple, but there are many branches to the path and they should all be followed at the same time.

  Hindu parents offer dozens (some say millions) of Gods to their children. Mom worships one God, dad, another. Take your pick. Each one is a manifestation of the one God, who can't be known with our limited brains. Christian children are faced with three Gods: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, three in one. The children are told not to trouble their heads about it because it's a mystery. Sister Eubestrabius at Holy Name School said that the Trinity was a mystery we could never solve. We should just enjoy it, like we do a merry-go round. We don't worry where a merry-go-round begins and ends, we just enjoy the ride.

  As time went on I was confronted with other lesser mysteries. One morning when my brother and my sister-in-law were walking to church, they observed a young man calling to a passing car, "Get a cushion!" He didn't say it as though he expected the person in the car to actually get a cushion, but more like someone in South Boston saying "Erin go braugh" on Saint Patrick's Day. There's no point in speculating why the young man told the person or persons in the car to get a cushion, but I do use the expression with my brother or his wife when I can't thing of anything more to the point. They know exactly what I'm saying.

  Another incident: When my brother-in-law was in high school, three of his friends said they were going to skip class to smoke a joint, and asked if they could sit in his car to do it. Later in the day my brother-in-law heard the fire whistle but didn't think anything of it. As he walked to his locker someone told him his car was on fire. Apparently the roach had slipped into the back seat cushions. As the old Sunday school song says, it only takes a spark to get a fire going.

   The fire department had extinguished the blaze, but the interior was gutted, windows melted, paint blistered, etc. It was no use confronting his friends. If you lambast a stoned person, they just think it's funny. The seat springs retained a bit of warmth as my brother-in-law sat behind the distorted driver's wheel. The vice-principal offered to call a tow truck. My brother-in-law thought, "what the heck", and tried the key. The engine started! He ignored the stares of the neighbors as he drove home. He was too busy thinking what he was going to tell his parents. Fortunately, the evidence had been destroyed.

  I use the story of the roach coach as inspiration when I'm feeling low. I know my engine is quietly turning over somewhere. I just need to put it in gear and get a cushion.  

Pickleball umpire's chair with deluxe cushions and spare balls