Balance

I was entertained by the return of the first commercial space trip this week as the return pod splashed into the sea. It was, for me, another example of the silly things that we accept and put up with. It reminded me of a time when I was younger. Mum never rode a bike when she was a kid so we bought her one, dad and me. We dressed it up all beautiful with sparkly rainbow decals and a little basket, we taught her the theory of gears and bought her special gloves to wear. On the day of the launch we made a picnic and set out to the park where she was to take her maiden flight. She rode it beautifully across the grass, ribbons flowed and spokes flashed in the sun and she smiled. Mum actually smiled as she sailed across the grass. It seemed like the whole park had stopped to watch our triumph. The she remembered that in all the excitement getting her to go, we had never showed her how to stop. As the edge of the park neared and the traffic on the road grew bigger, she abandoned the bike, smashed into the bushes and brought herself to a wholly undignified stop. We should have thought the mission through a little more. Billions of dollars are spent on these space missions – the price of a couple of hospitals each time – and they end with a metal capsule smashing into the sea and being rescued by a fishing boat. I mean, come on. Is this the best that we can do? 

I try not to watch the news so much any more. At every opportunity a creep out to the little alleyway a few houses down and make my way across the road. There’s a little tear in the fabric of the bubble and if I prise it up with my fingernails I can squeeze out. You should try it.