"They want to get rid of us," said Trillian nervously. ""What do we do?"
"It's just a recording," said Zaphod. "We keep going. Got that, computer?"
"I got it," said the computer and gave the ship an extra kick of speed.
They waited.
After a second or so came the fanfare once again, and then the voice:
"We would like to assure you that as soon as our business is resumed announcements will be made in all fashionable magazines and color supplements when out clients will once again be able to select from all that's best in contemporary geography." The menace in the voice took on a sharper edge. "Meanwhile, we thank our clients for their kind interest and would ask them to leave. Now."
Arthur looked round the nervous faces of his companions.
"Well, I suppose we'd better be going then, hadn't we?" he suggested.
"Shhh!" said Zaphod. "There's absolutely nothing to be worried about."
"Then why's everyone so tense?"
"They're just interested!" shouted Zaphod. "Computer, start a descent into the atmosphere and prepare for landing."
This time the fanfare was quite perfunctory, the voice now distinctly cold.
"It is most gratifying," it said, "that your enthusiasm for our planet continues unabated, and so we would like to assure you that the guided missiles currently converging with your ship are part of a special service we extend to all of our most enthusiastic clients, and the fully armed nuclear warheads are of course merely a courtesy detail. We look forward to your custom in future lives . . . Thank you."
The voice snapped off.
Sometimes, things just don't turn out the way that you expect. That's what Zaphod is learning at the moment. He thought that the rediscovery of the planet Magrathea would be filled with fame and adulation and wealth. Instead, he's being greeted with the threat of nuclear annihilation. Life doesn't always hand you roses and candy. Sometimes, it launches guided missiles at you.
Tonight, I write this post for a friend. (Really, it IS for a friend. Do NOT think that I'm composing some veiled message about my life situation. I'm NOT.) I'm very close to this person, and she is really struggling at the moment. Instead of roses, she's got warheads, if you get my meaning.
I know that she will be reading these words this evening, and I want her to know that I love and care about her. Life sometimes sucks. I can vouch for that. I've had my share of struggles. Hell, I continue to struggle every day. What has always gotten me through the darker moments has been humor, family, and friends.
Let me tell you a little story . . .
Once upon a time, there was a man who thought his life was over. Everything was going wrong. His job, marriage, and family. It seemed as though each day brought some new disaster. He went to his doctor, explained what was going on. His doctor, being a good man who cared about his patient, gave him a prescription for pills that would calm his anxiety.
After one particularly stressful day, this man knelt beside his bed. In his fist, he held about 15 of those pills. He started to pray. And he prayed and cried and prayed and cried. The night seemed darker than any darkness he'd ever experienced before. Eventually, the man fell asleep, still kneeling, still holding those pills in his fist.
The next morning, he woke up to the sun streaming through his bedroom curtains. He knees were screaming and stiff. In his fist, the pills were semi-dissolved from the sweat of his palm. The man slowly climbed to his feet, pulled the curtain aside, and saw the brightest, most vibrant pink sunrise he'd ever seen. And it gave him hope. Reminded him that after night comes morning. After darkness, light. After struggle, peace and love and laughter . . .
Remember this, my friend. Hug yourself tonight. Know that you are important to me.
Saint Marty is sending you Christmas music, chocolate, poetry, and thoughts of presidential impeachment--all the things that make him happy.
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