Looking to the Skies for Help

 

At this point in life, I’ve decided that maybe I’m looking for help in the wrong direction.

I’ve spent plenty of time looking around at the world thinking, “Surely somebody has a solution to all this.”

Then I look up.

Maybe the answer is in the sky.

I used to dream about having my own island. You know, somewhere peaceful where I could disappear from everybody and everything. A little piece of paradise where nobody could bother me.

But I’ve upgraded the dream.

I don’t want an island anymore. I want my own planet.

Yep. Forget the island.

Give me a planet.

I want my own atmosphere, my own weather system, my own rules and preferably a complete lack of people yelling at me about things I didn't do.

On my planet, if something breaks, I’ll fix it myself.

If I screw something up, there won't be anybody standing there saying, “Who did that?”

I did.

And I'll fix it.

If I put something together backward, I won't have to explain myself to anybody. I can just stare at it for a few minutes, scratch my head and say, “Well, that wasn't supposed to happen.”

Then I’ll take it apart and try again.

That's freedom.

The best part about owning my own planet is that I get to control the population.

And by “population,” I mean me.

Maybe I'll allow a few visitors.

But don't get too excited.

You’ll need an invitation.

And if you're lucky, I might even let you stay for the weekend.

Just remember: bring your own food, don't touch my tools and don't ask me to fix anything while you're here.

I’m trying to relax.

Because there is just too much stupidity floating around this world.

Everywhere you look, somebody is arguing about something, somebody is making something harder than it needs to be, somebody is creating a problem that didn't need to exist in the first place, and somehow I'm expected to understand what the hell is going on.

I'm starting to think Earth needs a timeout.

Maybe the whole planet needs to sit in the corner for a while and think about what it has done.

Meanwhile, I'll be upstairs looking through my telescope.

“Yep… still looking for a new planet.”

I don't need a mansion.

I don't need a yacht.

I don't even need that island anymore.

Just give me a little planet somewhere out there.

I'll build a house.

I'll build a workshop.

I'll probably build a deck.

And I'll sit outside at night looking back at Earth thinking:

“Man… I'm glad I don't live there anymore.”

Of course, knowing my luck, somebody would eventually find my planet.

They'd land in my yard.

I'd walk outside and they'd say, “Hey! We're here to see what you've got going on.”

I'd probably just stare at them.

Then I'd point back toward their spaceship.

“You got five minutes.”

Because sometimes the best solution to the problems of this world isn't fixing everything.

Sometimes you just need to find a place where you can chuckle at it from a very, very safe distance.

And if I ever get that planet...

I'll send postcards.

Maybe.