An interesting theoretical concept, I thought. One that might appeal to the inquisitive mind of someone who is open to questioning commonly held principles.
Many years ago, I was in Palm Springs, attending a conference with some of my colleagues from work. One evening, after dinner downtown, several of us were walking along Palm Canyon Drive, the main drag, looking at the shops and galleries. I was desperate for a cup of coffee and spotted a familiar green and white logo in the next block. Excusing myself, I went on ahead, knowing they’d catch up.
I hadn’t quite made it to coffee when a bumper sticker in the window of what was unquestionably a head shop, caught my eye. “Gravity Sucks” it read. Knowing exactly just who might appreciate that sentiment, from a science-turned-on-its-head perspective, I ventured inside. If I thought I’d easily find a rack of well-organized bumper stickers, I was sadly mistaken. I felt as though I’d tumbled down the proverbial rabbit hole. The air was heavy with the smell of incense and I was surrounded by all sorts of curious bong and pipe paraphernalia, psychedelic posters, flickering black lights, Bob Marley T-shirts and huge smiley faces. The proprietor, a young man, leaned across the counter. He did not have a smiley face.
“Looking for something special ma’am?”
“I was hoping to buy one of those Gravity Sucks bumper stickers,” I said. He didn’t budge.
“Sold out. Sorry.”
“Would you be willing to sell me the one in the window?”
I walked out just as the rest of the group caught up. “Coffee, huh?” one of them asked.
Gravity certainly hasn’t been a friend of mine as I’ve grown older. It pulls little hairs out of my chin and causes skin to sag, among other things.
And then there is the gravity of a situation, such as the precedent-setting indictment of a former U.S. president. I can’t help but wonder what the rest of the world thinks and how this moment will be viewed by future generations of Americans.