1. The Tale of the White Truck
Driving to work, I find myself behind a beat-up white pick-up truck, its body sagging under the weight of its overflowing load. The hazard lights are flashing because the thing can barely move, though it’s trying, due to the not one, but two flat tires it has. What is the onerous burden the truck is carrying in its bed? A mountain of tires.
I don’t know if this is poor or brilliant planning. Don’t know if it’s some existential symbol of the human condition: that one should have a surplus of exactly what one needs and (a) be crippled by it and/or (b) unable or unwilling to easily access it or (c) completely oblivious to its existence and use.
I only know that this week on Shelby Street, the Sublime intersected with the Tragic, somewhere in the vicinity of that poor pathetic truck.
2. How to State the Obvious in 30 Seconds or Less