Blimps & Time

We took off today to pre-celebrate my youngest daughter’s 13^th birthday.  We celebrated with presents, a trip to “5 Below” for Japanese candy, and a feast of sushi held in her honor.  We came home and the dogs were put on their leads so they could do whatever they needed to do, my wife went to her computer, my oldest to her Xbox, and my two youngest kids decided to stay outside for a walk.  I was taking some pictures when I saw something in the sky.

“Come quick!” I shouted to my two younger kids.  ‘Kids’ by the way, is going out of style in my household.  My youngest turns 13 this weekend and I live completely and utterly in a house full of women.

“What?” they asked.  They were unenthused.  Of course how could they be?  They had not seen the wonderful airship that I just saw in the sky!  A vessel out of time.  A blimp!  It was still visible but it was moving.

“You’ll see but you’ve got to hurry up!” I said.  They were not moving any faster.  I gave another look and, sure enough, the blimp was starting to disappear.  “Come on, this is cool!”

“Dad, your idea of ‘cool’…” my middle child was about to say something but I interrupted her and pointed skyward.

“See!” I said but there was nothing there.  The blimp had passed beyond the treetops.  Gone.  I was the only one who would ever know that it was there.

“What?” she asked.

“It was a blimp,” I said, “You missed it.”

“A blimp.” She said. “You got excited about a blimp?”

“Yes, I did.” I said. “I wanted to share it with you.”  I was looking at both of them.  I must have looked a bit forlorn and crestfallen.

“It’s not that we didn’t want to see it with you.” She said.  My youngest nodding her agreement.

“I don’t blame you." I said.  "I blame time.”  The girls looked at me strangely anew.  “I remember a time not all that long ago when blimps would have been cool to see fly in the air.  And now that time is gone.”  I made my way inside to my computer and after a bit of poking around I wrote this remorseful little ditty.  

I should start to schedule my mid-life crisis.  Hold on, let me check my calendar… OH.  My mistake, I thought it was set for a time in the future. 

It turns out I’m already there. 

Enter Sandman

Gentle Reader if this was the 23rd Century, the survivors of war, overpopulation and pollution would be living in a great domed city, sealed away from the forgotten world outside. Within the dome would be a completely ecologically balanced world and mankind would only be living driven by the pleasures that the central computer and the robotic servo-mechanisms, would provide.

But there is a catch. Life must be terminated at the age of 30, unless citizens are reborn in the fiery ritual of Carrousel!

Citizens would have a crystal implanted in their palms that would indicate their age; birth to 7 the color of the crystal would be yellow, 7 – 14 years Blue, 14 – 29 Red and Last Day would be Blinking Red. At the end of Last Day the crystal would be black signifying the fact that time is up. Some citizens would happily march to Carrousel – others would not. Those who would run would be tracked by the Deep Sleep Operatives or Sandmen. Once a Sandman finds a runner he “retires” them by tracking them down and making the kill.

You see, I’m a runner – still seeking Sanctuary. If this were the world of Logan’s Run as of today my palm crystal has been black for the last 9 years; I would have been running for the last 9 years. I’m turning into Peter Ustinov’s character from the film; a film that was released in 1976, when I was 8 years old.

I will have to whistle ‘Happy Birthday’ quietly; time is too short to wallow in the past and the Sandmen are converging on my location.

Time to keep running.