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From the first day I met Ken, I knew that we were going to be friends. Ken was born and raised in a large Pennsylvania city, and when he was 12 his family took him on vacation to an Arizona dude ranch. From that day on, all Ken ever wanted to do was move out west and become a cowboy. So when Ken got out of school he put most of his belongings in a storage shed, loaded up his Cockapoodle and headed west to take up residence as a cowboy. After only two weeks in his new homeland, Ken had managed to turn his life completely around: he went from being poor and insecure to being insecure and poor. Ken was well on his way to fulfilling his dream of becoming a cowboy when three days before Christmas, his dream turned into a nightmare. I saw Ken down at the Farm Supply trying to sell his barely-used saddle. His eyes were as big as dinner plates and he looked like he hadn't slept for days. He was trying to get enough money gathered up to buy a plane ticket home ASAP. I was saddened to learn that our short friendship was coming to an end. "Leaving us so soon, Ken? Why are you selling your saddle? I thought you wanted to become a cowboy." "I'm headed back east to more solid ground. I can't take all the rockin' and rollin'." "Oh, that little shaker we had? I take it that was your first earthquake?" "Little shaker!" screamed Ken. "I thought I was going to die! I had just sat down for my midday meal when the refrigerator started boot-scootin across the floor. The food on my plate was jiggling. I've seen Jell-O do that, but never a roast beef sandwich." "Did you duck under a table?" I asked. "I couldn't. It wasn't staying in one place long enough. I tried to run out the front door of my little shack, but it appeared to be in five places at once. I didn't know which door to go through. I swear my mailing address changed three times in a minute. The top of the toilet flew off, and even the furniture was trying to get out of the house." "Yeah, life out here ain't for sissies," I said. "We live on a fault." "I don't care who's fault it is, I ain't stayin," said Ken. "I'll admit it even shook me up pretty good. But aren't you overreacting?" "Overreacting? I thought it was the apocalypse! After I clawed my way outside, I saw power lines down, the haystack had toppled on my truck, and the mountain had grown in stature and was hurling big boulders at me. After I realized I might actually survive, my next reaction was that you guys gotta be loco for living here." "I admit it takes some getting used to. Did you suffer much damage?" "You mean other than to my heart and central nervous system? There isn't enough glue in two states to put everything of mine back together that broke. I haven't shaved for days because we don't have electricity, I'm filthy because the tap water is still runnin' a little muddy, and if I hear as much as a truck's Jake brake I roll into the fetal position and start whimpering and praying. I tell you, it's no way to live." "How did your Cockapoodle handle the quake?" "He hasn't come out from under the bed yet, and that was two weeks ago. These aftershocks are driving us both crazy. I haven't had to stir my coffee for two weeks, and I'm living on Dramamine and gin to settle my nerves. I feel like a sailor on dry land. Just as soon as I can get the dog out from under the bed, we're headed home." Yes, it seems we made quite an impression on Ken during his short stay out west. Just today I got a postcard postmarked Pennsylvania in which Ken indicated that he's contemplating making a career change. It seems that Ken is seriously considering joining the priesthood instead of becoming a cowboy. He said it was hard enough to stay on a horse without the earth trying to buck him off, too. |
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