“I don’t know, what would you recommend for an unhappy guy
who needs to find some meaning in his life?”
“Well, if it were up to me I’d say go someplace horrible that will
make you feel better about your own life, but it’s not up to me, so I
guess all I could suggest would be to get as far away from what you
know as possible. If you’re not having a good time, go clean your
clock.That’s my credo. Maybe you could go up to the mountains.
People have been doing that for years to find shit. Prometheus,
Zarathustra, Mohammed, Native Americans, Zen monks, Edmund
Hillary. There seems to be some kind of correlation with high altitude
and high attitude. There’s a whole other world up there.”
I thought about his suggestion for a while, then decided that
since winter was approaching, the Himalayas would be awfully chilly
and therefore not my idea of an ideal place to go. Maybe I’d go down
to the beaches in the south of India and see what materialized there.
As I was mulling things over, Yippee dashed into the bakery to pick
up a quick strudel.
“Yip…uh, Rambutan!” I shouted. He flew by the table.
“Hey mate! Gotta run. Listen, things are really getting crazy—I’ll
fill you in soon!” He ran out the door before I could say anything.
“You know that guy?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that I saw him at the Park of the Ark kissing
that really beautiful woman that welcomes everybody to the ashram
on their first day. I could never figure out how a guy like him got a
woman like that!”
“You mean that incredible redhead who everyone was in love
with?”
“Hard to believe, huh?” Joe grinned.
“Incredible,” I agreed. Obviously Yippee had penetrated the
ashram’s high-level defenses. I felt depressed that after becoming
reunited, we would so soon be parting ways again, but I couldn’t
stand it on the ashram any longer. Stirring my coffee, I decided that
spirituality just wasn’t for me.
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
186
 |
 |
 |
 |