Pondering What If’s
It is better to ask some of the questions than to know all the answers. James Thurber
Littered with flotsam and jetsam, there’s a front porch in uptown Sedona that has much in common with a beach. Yes, a beach in that one never knows what or who will wash up on it–day nor night. According to somewhat reliable neighborhood sources, the latest sightings include two bible salespersons, a water conservationist, the last Ralph Nader supporter, the last Liberal, a poet named Portlin, some unemployed UFO pilots and two former City Council counselors.
At other times, assorted ruffians, banjo players, a convicted banker, two rabble-rousers, one lonely javelina and several creatures that “go bump in the night” have been observed either wandering around in circles or reclining in the old wooden chairs on that porch. But by far the most interesting flotsam that arrived on the porch after the last rains was a wizened silver-haired chap with bright blue eyes who wore a necklace of elk bones around his neck. To the owner of the front porch, he announced that his name was Nemo.
“Nemo,” muttered the homeowner. “Could this be the ghost of Captain Nemo from Jules Verne’s ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?'”
“No, not that Nemo,” the strange wizened chap riposted. “I am no Disney fish either. Truth to tell, I’m here to raise some questions.”
Questions? He explained that he’d been pondering a series of “what if’s” after attending a lecture by the real “Deep Throat” at the Pink Nectar Cafe on the outskirts of Sedona.
“Pondering?” the homeowner asked, still uncertain as to his visitor’s intentions, let alone his credentials. “Is that like pandering?”
Annoyed at that lim
