America is a land of Abundant Plesantries.
It’s a land of dealer-operators with one bad eye. Each one all set and ready to guide you and your family straight down the tiger’s throat for a simple handshake. America is a land where you thank these men for such compassion. You thank them by sawing off your own leg and offering to eat it, right there in front of them.
America is a land where everybody’s always ready to put on a show.
It’s a land of stilt-walkers who truly know how to work those things.
It’s a land of people who run the ceiling fan all through winter because they read the book and know how to work it. They can reach the switch.
America is a land filled with guys like your Uncle Mike. A man who, thanks to the unaccountable whims of fate, no longer has the ability to sit down. He’s a man who, despite his lackings, became co-pilot on 14 separate shuttle missions. He was happy with that spot. Liked the pin he got to wear.
America allows such men to succeed not because of some special charity poster organization or because magnets are stronger here. They succeed because, for the most part, the air here is dry. It won’t grow mold in your lungs.
You can paint a neighbor’s car to look like a horse and highlight letters in library books that spell your name. You can build your own waiting room and wait in it! Many Have!
That’s why the parks are empty. And there’s all that talk about turning them into really big holes.
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