Of Bags & Baggage........

Way, way back in the Age of Aquarius, some forgotten hippie wit quipped, “It ain’t too hard to get your shit together. The hard part is carrying it.”

Lotta travelin’ this time of year.....lotta luggage, lotta packages, carried or shipped here and there, from one part of the country to another. Heck, from one part of the world to another. And a lotta people nervous about what might be packed inside that luggage and packages.
My son, Archbishop Dave Smith, renown trekkie, motorcyclist, raconteur and world traveler, recently went to work for the TSA. Basically they check the luggage of everyone who flies. While that may be seen to be an exercise in tedium for most of the employees, a great many of whom are retired military, policemen, firefighters, etceteras, who work long hours for relatively low pay in part because of 9/11. Because they wanted to help. Because during hazardous times, people sincerely want to help other people.
That attitude has always seemed worthwhile to me. As to how effective a job they might or might not be doing.......I don’t know and neither do you. Maybe the simple fact that they are there is a major deterrent to the aberrant idiots who believe that mass murder is a righteous answer to injustice.
And speaking of injustice, I won't. Much too large a subject for a country boy like me.
But, I digress, something I seem p’tick’ly good at. (Hey, you can’t always pick and choose your talents. Ya take what ya get.)
Anyway, when you take a trip today, you get your stuff together and pack it in something and that becomes luggage. What a concept!
When you get to the airport, a TSA officer goes through your luggage and if they find a prohibited article, (and that changes from day to day,) they confiscate it and your luggage automatically becomes lighter.
Doesn’t work with the baggage you acquire from living. That stays with you through thick and thin all the way to the end of the line. (Or at least, what we perceive to be the end of the line.) There are no TSA officers to lighten your load, nor porters to carry it for you. Sort’a like a really long golf course with no caddies and ya gotta carry your own bags.
Gee, is that why so many people consider golf to be a metaphor for life?
Not that I’d know. I’ve never harmed a golf ball in my life. I love golf courses tho'. Great places to while away a few hours. And with a little effort, you can turn whiling away a few hours into an art form.
Lush greenery, the smell of newly mown grass, a libation or three; you shouldn’t spoil that by whacking a tiny ball with an expensive stick.
Whatever! Looks like a lot of the country may get a white Christmas.......Merry, merry, everyone!
Justin Other Smith