I seem to find myself grasping for what to write, now. There are some events that have occurred, recently, which I don’t believe need to be aired to the public. So, in respect of the people’s feelings I have already unintentionally mutilated, I won’t discuss them in this blog. I can at least show some respect and common decency in this small way.

With that said, I will attempt to turn my attention on other matters. I wonder, sometimes, why it seems to be that there is a direct, perpetual and disproportionate imbalance between the amount of money I make and the bills that I have to pay? It always strikes me as bitter irony that no matter how much I bring home, I’m never the recipient of my paycheck. I’m merely the courier.

Now, I’ll relate a somewhat bittersweet experience I had. I rescued a butterfly yesterday. I’m sure, to some, I seem like the least likely person to extend a helping hand to one of nature’s daintiest creatures. However, as I was getting into my truck yesterday evening, I spied a butterfly struggling across the scorching pavement of the parking lot where I work. I started to shut the door of my truck and just worry about what I needed to do. But, for some reason, I just couldn’t turn a blind eye to this poor creature’s struggle.

I got out and went around to see what the problem was with the little fella. Certain species of butterflies have two wings on each side of their body, a forward wing and rear wing. This poor butterfly was missing one of its forward wings, entirely. It seemed dazed and desperate to escape the scorching surface of the parking lot… so I reached down and let it crawl onto my finger. Knowing that it couldn’t fly in its current condition, I realized that its hours were numbered. With no way to go from flower to flower, its already brief life had been unfairly shortened by this injury. I decided to be kind to this poor victim of fate, and let him (or her) ride with me on my errands. For storytelling purposes, let’s consider “it” a “him”.

It’s rare to see a live butterfly riding “shotgun” in a vehicle. It’s even rarer for a butterfly to travel anywhere at 65mph. For a short time, my little friend was Hemi-powered…cruising through the city in which I live in air-conditioned and shaded comfort. Slowly opening and closing its wings, my new co-pilot seemed content to be my guest as we went from one place to another. I never left him for very long, and was always pleased to find him waiting patiently for me when I returned to the vehicle.

My friend rode with me until I finally reached home, and clung to my finger as I introduced him to my wife. She was as taken with the beauty of its remaining wings as I was. As I set out the supper that I’d purchased for her and I, she examined my little friend. We agreed that there was little she or I could do aside from placing our winged guest on the nearest flowering bush and wishing it well. So, I placed him outside on a nearby bush, carefully. I said goodnight as its damaged wings slowly opened and closed, and went back inside. I don’t know the fate of my co-pilot now… but I hope, in some small way, that I helped ease its suffering. I dedicate this small and strange entry to my friend… the Hemi-Powered Butterfly. Rest well, my friend.

More later.