Inverse Proportions
The Source
I don’t believe in luck. Never have. But there’s something about the rule of Inverse Proportions that’s made me wonder if there aren’t forces in the universe that are working against me. You can bet the farm on this one: Arenzville is located twenty-five minutes from ice cream. I like ice cream. I don’t believe that we lowly inhabitants of the rural hinterland should be deprived of ice cream just because we’re surrounded by fields of fructose. Twenty-five minutes to Jacksonville and twenty-two to Beardstown if you get got in the shift change traffic at Cargill. The typical container of ice cream should be able to endure that length of ride …even in a Honda. But here’s where the fates creep in. You may have read that the new John Deere combines have devices that can determine your position in a 120 acre field and keep the driver up to date on the yield tumbling into his hopper. What you may not realize is that these same corn pickers can detect when an ice cream-laden Honda is about to barrel down the Arenzville-Concord blacktop. A small, radio-controlled device will instruct the combine to finish a field and then slowly pull onto the highway, taking up both lanes of traffic. I am a farm boy and I know these things must be done. I have never been nor never will be among those griping motorists who get miffed just because someone’s trying to feed the world. What I don’t understand is the timing. If I buy socks or trash bags the roads will be clear. A half-gallon of Prairie Farms low fat vanilla and green roadblocks start inching down the highway. It’s the rule of inverse proportions…the more frozen your load, the slower the traffic. Lest you laugh, think of the last time you only had a minute to rush into a store and get out. The once free-flowing checkout lanes were suddenly clogged like a constipated steer, right? The less time you have the more the lines will be clogged. I’m telling you, it’s the god of Inverse Proportions, man. I’ve not picked up on their radio transmissions, but I know it goes something like this: “He just passed the break counter! Somebody cut him off! Quick! You! The lady with the three screaming kids who’ll grab at every piece of candy in the checkout lane. Go! Go! Go! Cut him off!” “No good, chief. He made a last minute dash past her and he’s headed for the Express Lane!” “Block! Block! Block! You…..the guy who’s buying five carts full of summer camp supplies! Head for the Express Lane!” “But boss, it says 10 items or less!” “Who pays any attention to that? Cut him off! All five carts! Go! Go! Go!” “We got trouble, sir. He saw what was happening and now he’s running down to the far checkout lane. Some fool actually left a lane open!” “SWAT team! To your stations!” “You’re going to shoot him?” “No…the SWAT is Spinster With A Totalled checkbook. She’ll pay her bill with a check then insist on slowly stubbing the check with a pen that won’t work. Go, SWAT, go!” “We’ve tried everything, boss. He did a quick U-Turn into lane six. We couldn’t stop him.” “Then it’s time for our Weapon of Mass Delay…Call for a price check!” “But he’s got all his prices marked!” “Rub one out, you fool! Tear it off! Bit the tag on the bananas if you have to! Send our slowest bag boy to the very back of the store to check on the amount! Go! Go! Go!” The principle of Inverse Proportions….the world turns upside-down. Then I drive home and turn on CNN to see a report on the downside of my own world…the lady in the Sahel region of western Africa. Every two days she walks six miles to the nearest well, waits in line an average of eight hours, then carries the two-day supply of water back to her family. I sit here in the most overfed country on earth and the world of Inverse Proportions suddenly flips right into my lap.