May 26, 2011: Hey, it could've been worse

Have you ever found yourself in the kind a conundrum where you didn’t know which way to turn, much less what in the blazes to do about it?

Yeah, me too.

In fact, for the last—what?—three, four weeks, I’ve been stranded in that particular locale: It wasn’t called Conundrum Canyon, but that’s what I called it.

Now I know that this is making about as much sense so far as the GOP’s plan for balancing the budget without raising taxes, or as the Supreme Court’s idea of protecting the Constitution by eviscerating it.

(Now, that’s a cool word, isn’t it: “eviscerate?” Dictionary.com defines eviscerate in two ways:

1. to remove the entrails from; disembowel;
2. to deprive of vital or essential parts.

Personally, I think the second definition is the more accurate one, although I can also imagine the teenage ghost of John Adams calling out a warning: “Hey, Ma . . . call James Madison: There’s evisceratin’ goin’ on!)

“Digression” is a pretty cool word, too.

I’d tell you, but then I’d have to . . . never mind

Now, confidentiality prevents me from going into too many specifics, but in all fairness (and to satisfy the curiosity of the . . . er, curious, among you), I’ll give you as much of the story as I can and present it as a hypothetical.

Are you with me so far?

Anyway, on May 4th I (hypothetically) received a call from an old and dear friend of mine who lives out of state. My friend was having, well, let’s just say a crisis of fact, form, and stability. He asked me if I would help.

Rescuer that I am—having grown up on the sappy flicks of the 60s and 70s, where somebody was always saving somebody less advantaged—I leaped upon my gallant steed and rode northward from Reno, to the aforementioned (hypothetical) Conundrum Canyon.

the general vicinity of my (hypothetical) location

And once there, I discovered the validity of the cynicism: No good deed goes unpunished.

Another lame excuse

For three, four weeks I lived off the grid, ministering to my friend’s tattered psyche and making only occasional and sporadic forays back to Reno to fulfill commitments I couldn’t otherwise avoid.

And, as Forrest Gump so famously declares: That’s all I’m gonna say about that.