Thoughts on The Cusp
Waxing metaphorical at the end of the year
Like it or not, you and I are at an amusement park, waiting in line for the roller coaster.
The last car has already pulled into the station and is disgorging its passengers. The seats are covered with vomit, and we’re not sure that there’s enough staff to clean them, but we’ve been waiting in line for hours now to get on this ride and there’s really nothing else to do in this amusement park anyway, so we wait.
Soon enough, our car will pull up and jerk to a halt. The “safety bars” will rise, and we will load in. The brave and foolish will rush to the frontmost seats, but most of the rest will get on as the line dictates.
Just as we’re about to change our minds, because this is a really bad idea, the bars will crash down and lock us in place. The chains will engage, dragging our cars forward along the straightaway, and then up, up, up that long steep hill that banks (what our science teacher’s called) the potential energy for the frenetic ride.
What kind of ride will it be? We have no idea. We’ve read the reviews and heard the predictions, but as every fan of war movies and action films (and aren’t we all these days) knows, “A battle plan never survives the first encounter with the enemy.”
Personally, I’d rather ride the merry go round, the Tunnel of Love, or just get a cotton candy and call it a day, but there’s nowhere else to go. I want to trust the system, the people who built the amusement park, but the attendants look stoned and the management are in their air-conditioned trailers counting ticket receipts.
So, like a convict preparing for imprisonment, I’m storing up memories, reconnecting with old friends, making hopeful preparations, and eating a last meal – but not too much because, like it or not, it’s going to be a hell of a ride.
