A Wise Decision

The sky was blacker than a villain's soul as I sat on the patio to listen to the heartbeat of the night; insects mostly, and a light breeze brushing across the surface of broad leafed plants. The loudest sound, the one most urgent, was the big dog to my front panting an eager huh huh huh huh as he waited for me to throw the knotted bit of rope that is his favorite retrieval object. The two small dogs, curled on padded, wicker chairs beside me were soundless, content, happy to just be out at this later than usual hour.

I was content too; flipping the dog's toy out into the yard and then patting his head gently each time he returned it to my lap. There was a half full glass of wine on the table to my right and a half smoked, small cigar beside it in an ash tray. The sweet, fragrant aroma of Reina De La Noches captured my attention each time the wind shifted to push it in my direction. I took off my glasses and placed them on the table as well. I wanted to see the world I was accustomed to, rather than the newer, sharper focused place the recently purchased "lentes" provided.

And then, in the midst of this amiable reverie, this calm, almost meditative state, The Monkeymind chimed in with a thought: What's all this nonsense about Universal Themes writers are always going on about? We don't know a damn thing about themes on other planets, let alone what they might be on other galaxies. I mean the Universe is a damned big place. The Milky Way Galaxy may have some overriding unifying thread that we might one day capture, but what about The Snickers Galaxy and The Three Musketeers Galaxy? Yeah, I say, what about them?

And following that, because I was now onto clearly large, important issues worthy of scientific inquiry, I began to wonder why I was still controlled by, and concerned about, Time, while Woowoo Charly gave less than a hoot. She took off her watch the day we retired and has never put it back on. Big fat I, on the other hand, resent having to take off my keeping-track-of-time-piece to hop in the shower. Where does Time go when it is not on my wrist?

I contemplated that for awhile, along with themes on The Baby Ruth and Clark Bar Galaxies. As I did so, I realized I was alternately opening and closing my eyes to see which was darker, the night sky or the inside of my eyelids. The sky won hands down. As it turned out, this was the only puzzle posed by the Monkeymind last night that got a definite answer.

When the Monkeymind turned from all these questions of great import to whether Tim Tebow should be used by the Broncos in goal line situations, a wise decision was made. I decided I needed neither that last half glass of wine or the remaining unsmoked part of my cigar. I locked up, went to bed and took the dogs with me.

(The time was a little after nine. I just couldn't help checking.)