February 4
What Comes Around, Goes Around...
Only the Speed is Uncertain

Personally, I believe that the root of at least half the evils in the world is revenge. A long time ago I decided that even hoping for bad things to happen to my tormentors (hey, I'm not totally paranoid--there weren't that many of them) was beneath me; for one thing, it was empowering them just to keep their memory alive in my heart and, as that wise philosopher the late Buddy Hackett once said, "I've had a few arguments with people, but I never carry a grudge. You know why? While you're carrying a grudge, they're out dancing."

Instead of saying "I'm gonna get that guy if it is the last thing I do," I said (in my enlightened state), "what comes around, goes around." I wasn't totally convinced, but it was a nice idea, and, if true, it would take care of the problem without soiling my hands, wasting my time, or getting me imprisoned.

Now, I was raised all over the place and didn't really settle down geographically for any lengthy period until I was over 30 years of age. I clearly recall an epiphany some time after I celebrated my first five years in one house, though I don't remember the details. The epiphany was this: what comes around, does go around, but you might not be there to see it. Karma can take time. I was as happy with this discovery as a less-evolved person who still sought revenge would be.

So, in honor of karma and February 4, I present this story from Gregory McNamee's Desert Bestiary:

"Finally, [when accounting for the premature demise of naturally long-lived saguaro cacti] there is the yahoo factor to consider. Its most famous recent manifestation came on February 4, 1982, when young David Grundman went out with his roommate to Lake Pleasant, north of Phoenix, to indulge in a favorite Arizona pastime: drinking a stream of beer while discharging firearms in the desert. One of his targets happened to be a 26-foot-tall saguaro from which he was standing somewhat short of 26 feet..."

With the predictable result. That was karma at its quickest: a big saguaro can weigh 9 tons.

In conclusion, don't sit around and brood and wish for bad things to befall the meanies in the world. Rest assured that they will get theirs and, if you have to wish for anything, just wish that you can be around to watch.

On to February 5
Back to February 3
Back to the Farm

© Marilyn Jones 2000-2008