While I have nothing but respect for, and fond memories of, the Motown wonders that gave us "My Girl" and "Papa was a Rolling Stone", those are not the temptations which are tickling my nosy nature.
Regime change seems to be in the air. Even with my self-imposed news blackout, I cannot help but hear the rumblings and the grumblings. Where were these propensities for ousting world leaders when Dick and Double-U were besmirching the White House with their Haliburton footprints? But hark! I digress.
My little news nose is twitching like a tweaker in front of the Broadway 7-11, but so far I have been able to resist. What a time to give up on the news. Still, I love it when we venture into the realm of "Regime Change" even if I only get to view the venture as an voyeur.
Regime change is a lot like watching other people choose ice cream. Whether or not you can believe your eyes, right there at the frosty counter there stands an autonomous customer picking out Bubble Gum or Spumoni of their own free will!! Never mind that those are two of the grossest offerings in the whole case, or that no one is forcing them to choose; they are paying good money for the chance to make those ill-considered choices. Even stranger is that when you lean over and quietly point out the error of their selection, giving them the chance to refuse the nastiness of Spumoni with its inherently evil candied fruit bits for something at least no crazier than Rocky Road, you are likely to be met with a reception chillier than the ice cream case itself.
The truth of the matter is that we are provided with choices whose only purpose is to show the extreme edges of what is possible and, by clearly illuminating the danger of that extreme, then steer us back to the comfort of chocolate or vanilla or perhaps a nice sorbet if we are feeling daring. No one is supposed to actually order and then consume the Swiss Chocolate Raspberry Swirl. That is just wrong! Usually the "containers" of these extreme choices are just props. Look at the face of the cone-dipper when such an order is placed. They are just as confused as the rest of the observers.
Given these clear truths, one would think that when a good citizen veered unknowingly into the realm of Banana Marshmallow Cream or some other horrid choice, they would be grateful when one of their fellows gently steered them back to safety. Unfortunately, one would be wrong, so horribly, horribly wrong. In fact, rather than embrace the wisdom of counsel, the poor deluded soul may actually turn on the person offering guidance and not only refuse the altruistically offered aid, but begin to deride one's own choices as somehow misguided. Unpleasantness can ensue in the democratic environs of the world of frozen delights.
There in lies the danger of choice itself. There are just too many options.
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