Tuesday, September 16, 2008
“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”
Years ago Mater, whose house is observed mostly by sheep and cows, answered the door to a stranger. She listened for a few polite moments to what the fellow was saying. He purported to be a travelling salesman and Mater had no reason to doubt the validity of his claim. However, due to her not requiring anything he might be selling, and the faint hint of alcohol that wafted on the air, she amiably declined any further discussion with the possibly intoxicated visitor.
He slid his foot inside the door just as Mater bid him farewell. She could not, of course, close the door with a person's foot blocking the way, but he was able nevertheless to continue the conversation his host had terminated- and he did so without missing a beat.
Mater felt a rush of concern, then irritation, and the two juxtaposed into one frantic arrangement.
Mater reached into the Hat of Few Options and pulled out the oldest trick in the book.
"What's that?" she said with puzzlement, and pointed to a vague spot behind the salesman's shoulder.
He turned around to see what the thing might be.
Mater swiftly kicked the discourteous foot out of the entrance and closed the door on the gullible, astounded fellow.
The dubious character never bothered my mother again.
We tend, as a rule, to follow the grandiose plans and the elaborate paths of popularity, but it sometimes happens that the most laughably simple idea is the most effective one of all.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 11:11 AM