Disappearing Treads

Man brushes away a mosquito at a tire dump near Boston.

    All over the world, millions of tires grind against pavement. Their treads wear out. Rubber degenerates into particles.
    Nobody knows where these particles end up.
    One possible explanation, put forth by scientists, is that microorganisms eat the particles. But there’s no proof. That explanation is a hypothesis, not a theory.
    The disappearance of rubber matters little in the overall scheme of things. Most people could care less. Yet here I am, dwelling on this irrelevance. I do this because I am curious.
    Researchers don’t understand the purpose of curiosity. But they agree on one point. Increasing our knowledge, even of something mundane like tires, results in pleasure.

Random Hardships

Men inspect damage to a garage in Rhode Island.

    While photographing insurance appraisers, I noticed a married couple standing in the background. Their garage was torn up.
    Days earlier, that husband and wife were probably living quiet, unassuming lives. Just like me. They knew that bad things happen in the world. But the odds of a calamity striking them were remote.
    Until a hurricane destroyed their garage.
    Last week, a drunk driver slammed into my car. kaboom! I never saw him coming. The randomness of the crash spooked me. Since then, I’ve driven with greater caution.
    On the day following the car accident, I attended church. The gospel reading was appropriate: ‘Take heed, keep on the alert, for you do not know when the appointed time will come.’

Wishing Well

Coins lay on floor near gas and brake pedals.

    A volcano erupted in my car. A multitude of coins—the ones I use for paying tolls—flew out from a compartment inside the console. Pennies, dimes, quarters, and nickels landed all over the place. They covered seats, mats, and even penetrated below the cushions. My car’s interior resembled a wishing well.
    Another car had struck me from behind. The impact had sent the coins flying. It happened while I was preparing to make a turn.
    Seconds after the crash, I exited my car. My bumper was damaged.
    Consumed with anger, I approached the other vehicle. It was a Ford Fusion. Part of its front end was crumpled. The driver was partially visible behind an air bag. He wasn’t injured.
    We both knew the accident was his fault. He got out of his car.
    “How could you have hit me?” I said.
    “I didn’t see you.”
    The man extended his hand. “I’m sorry.”
    For a moment I looked down at his hand. Was this guy being sincere? My gut told me his gesture was on the level. I shook his hand. Right away, my ill feeling for the man eased.
    An apology has a powerful effect.

Left: Damage to my bumper. Right: Damage to other car.

 

Art and Faith

    A boy went from statue to statue, touching them and looking into their eyes. He was playing. Nearby, two women recited in unison a prayer. The location was a Catholic shrine in Massachusetts.
    Artwork is emphasized in the Catholic tradition. This shrine, for example, contained numerous statues and stained glass windows.
    Some critics believe The Church is wrong to feature art. Monies are better spent helping the poor.
    The early Christians emphasized simplicity. Statues weren't their thing. Why not follow their example?
    Because I believe that God approves of religious artworks.
    The photo was taken during a Catholic festival for Spanish speaking immigrants. Many of the attendees probably earned low incomes. They might be poor in money but they were rich with grace. The presence of statues encouraged their prayerfulness.
    Artwork nourishes faith in God.

Pumpkin Harmony

My pumpkin heads toward a cashier at the market.

    My elderly mother was angry. She objected when I placed a Halloween pumpkin on the front porch. She said, “Some fresh kid will come along and smash it.”

   Years ago, her warning would have been valid. Teenagers sometimes grabbed pumpkins. Boys tossed them on streets. The vandalism usually happened at night. On the following day, chunks of pumpkins littered roads.
    Nowadays, boys here don’t smash pumpkins. Why the change in behavior?
    Is it because today’s youth culture isn’t rebellious anymore? Teens seem easier going.
    Or is technology a factor? Kids today often socialize online. Facebook over face time. When kids are tethered to smartphones, they’re less inclined to cause trouble.
  Years ago, teens hung out for real. They cruised together in cars. Smashing pumpkins was a cheap and easy thrill. Today, I rarely see teens cruising together.
    I’m glad the pumpkins are being left alone. Their presence reassures me that my town is a harmonious place to live.

My pumpkin occupies a visible spot on the front porch.

Halloween Enthusiasm

Halloween display in my neighborhood.

    I drove my parents around to view Halloween displays. In some neighborhoods, front porches were festooned with holiday decor. Ghosts and skeletons hung from trees. Other neighborhoods had little to show. Maybe a pumpkin here and there.

   This streakiness applied to towns. Halloween exhibits were commonplace in my community. But over the border, in certain other towns, fewer displays were evident.
    Over the years, I’ve noticed this same phenomenon—festive neighborhoods or dull neighborhoods—applying to Christmas lights.
    Why do these visible displays appear in clusters? Perhaps the answer lies with enthusiasm. In some places, more people might be present who are enthusiastic by nature. They’re more apt to decorate their properties. Neighbors join in the fun.
    To quote Emory Ward:
    ‘Enthusiasm, like measles, mumps, and the common cold, is highly contagious.'

Another display near my home.