Ford and Arthur have just been launched into outer space as a new chapter begins . . .
The Hicthhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times over many years and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travelers and researchers.
The introduction begins like this:
"Space," it says, "is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly hugely mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist, but that's just peanuts to space. Listen . . ." and so on.
(After a while the style settles down a bit and it begins to tell you things you really need to know, like the fact that the fabulously beautiful planet Bethselamin is now so worried about the cumulative erosion by ten billion visiting tourists a year that any net imbalance between the amount you eat and the amount you excrete while on the planet is surgically removed from your body weigh when you leave: so every time you go to the lavatory there it is vitally important to get a receipt.)
It is the beginning of the weekend, and I have nothing really pressing to do. No papers that HAVE to be graded, no poetry readings to attend, no birthday parties, no school events. Nothing. The weekend seems big. Really big. Vastly hugely mind-bogglingly big. Of course, on Sunday night, I will probably be sitting on my couch wondering where all my time went. Right now, however, it's a vast ocean of relaxation. At least that's what I'm telling myself.
After a long week of work and teaching and grading and car troubles, I am ready to do . . . absolutely nothing tonight. I will go out to dinner with my wife, daughter, and daughter's boyfriend. Have a couple drinks. Then I will come home and, if I'm not too tired, read a book or watch some Netflix. This past week, a good friend and I watched the film Saving Mr. Banks. I had never seen it before. It was wonderful. Maybe I'll try to talk my wife into watching it with me (or my daughter).
For the last month or so, it feels like I've been pulled in many directions. I haven't had a whole lot of family time. I missed one of my daughter's last chorus concerts because I had to teach. I missed my son's last grade school carnival because I had to work. My nights have been late, and my wife is usually asleep with my son when I get home. I feel a little disconnected.
So, aside from wanting to watch a movie with my wife, I want to have a game night tomorrow with my whole family. Maybe Trivial Pursuit. Maybe the new game my wife just bought me called Bring You Own Book. It's sort of like the game Apples to Apples. I just have to get my kids to agree to sit down and play with me. Granted, I'm not as cool as a video game or the latest binge-worthy television show, but I can be fun. (If the "fun" thing doesn't work, I will resort of guilt. I'm not proud.)
Those are my plans for the weekend. I'm sure the coming week will hold surprises. I'm sure I'll be pulled in a thousand different directions at once again. Hopefully, I will find out whether I've secured employment for myself. I have a couple prospects. Interviewed for one job today. But, for the next three days (I'm counting today, as well), it's deep breathing for me. And time with my wife and family.
Saint Marty is getting back to the basics.
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