More Grandpa Davey Speaks
A Path with a Heart
A Stop at Willoughby
Can't Captue It
Invest in Yourself
Killing Me Softly
Leave it to Beaver
Lost in the Grand Canyon
Mind Over Temperature
Mother of all Storms
No Sense at All
Not Shadow People
Squirt Gets Run Over
The Cheapest Medicine
The Golden Calf
Ticket to Freedom
Two Types of Girls
Vaya Con Dios
Where's the Beef?
Worst Case Scenario
Mysterious Money, I promised to
tell the story of “The Drillpress” in which I would illustrate how
we can change the past as easily as the future. Today I will tell
the story, a trivial tale with grander implications. I shall attempt
to relate an incident where reality changed on a daily basis.
One late March day (the 25th to be exact), I happened to be in the
welding shop of the company in which I had been employed for the
past six months. Observing a drillpress there, I recalled that one
had been ordered. This would eliminate frequent treks by the welder
to the machine shop. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that this
tool was nearly identical to one I had previously owned. It was
identical except having larger balls on the quill feed handle.
Arriving at home on that Saturday afternoon, I quickly told Sweet
Mom of my discovery.
The following Monday, I told a coworker of my find. He told me that
the new drillpress was in the machine shop and the welding shop had
inherited the old one. This made no sense at all. Occasionally I had
used this one and had seen no similarity. At this point, all I could
recall of the old tool was that it had two locking screws on the
belt tension. Mine had only one. Rushing to the welding shop, I
discovered two locking screws. Now the drillpress appeared as mine
except larger balls and two locking screws.
This was quite perplexing as I would recognize my tools as most
would know their own phone number. Each day I would check the
drillpress and each day I discovered more differences.
In the end this drillpress had only a slight resemblance to mine.
Each day my perception would evolve to bring rationality to my
observations. Now I realize that I was wrong. This tool never looked
like mine. But, deep inside, I know the truth.
When, by accident, we notice these little bloopers, we just correct
the error and restore order to our perceived universe.