Friday, March 12, 2010

Half Fast

It seems to me we are a society obsessed with velocity.  We only have to look at the contemporary catch-phrases to prove my point. 

Consider the following:
1.    haste makes waste
2.    make hasty decisions
3.    life in the fast lane
4.    rat race
5.    speeding bullet
6.    warp speed
7.    full steam ahead
8.    the runs
9.    quick sale
10.    rapid fire

And don’t even get me started on “rush.”  We have rush hour, the Christmas rush, the caffeine rush to jump-start the morning…and of course, Rush Limbaugh, the motor mouth of talk radio.

We propel ourselves through traffic and through life as if our whole mortal existence were like the chariot races in “Ben Hur.”

We jump in the shower, throw on our clothes, race to I-HOP for a cuppa joe, before running errands.  We rush to In ‘n Out and get our order “to go,” and we demand that everything be done yesterday.

And the saints preserve the driver foolish enough to go the speed limit!  The grill guerillas and trunk huggers tailgate so closely, you can smell the garlic on their breath over your shoulder. 

Is no one languid any more?  Wouldn’t Superman still be a hero if he shambled to the rescue? 

Can’t we all take our shoulder from the wheel and just mosey along?

Would the world stop spinning on its axis if we slackened the pace just a skosh?

Today we are heading to California for the annual tennis tournament.  We will race to the parking lot, shuttle to the terminal, hurry through security, hop on the plane, fly faster than the speed of sound, and drive in the fast lane to Palm Springs to watch the world’s elite players slam missiles at one another.  And Rafa will serve balls that are only a furry blur in the atmosphere as he adjusts his jock strap simultaneously.

But when I arrive, I plan to mosey to my seat in the bleachers, and relax my thighs so much, they ooze down the planks like butter off a hot biscuit.  If I get the intestinal flu, my only symptom will be “the struts.”  My main mode of travel will be by dawdle, the delayed amble, perhaps a meander or two.

For one brief shining moment, I plan to cut my speed in half…and live life half-fast.  I am going to kick down the cobblestones, and let the morningtime drop all its petals on me.