Okay. I was wanting to receive the more views on this blog. And, the last post was sort of depressing. So, I wanted to enlighten all of you with a story I read many years ago. It was turned into a book, but, I decided to retell it & I forget the title & author's name. So, here's In A Suburban Home:
Once there was a Middle American town known as Ho-humville. Ho-humville was a quiet town filled with only the most corperate jobs & the most corperate businesses run by the most mundane people. And, these mundane people lived in all the same house painted & built the same size, shape, & color.
One day, a seagull was flying in the neighboring town of Cape Our Lady Of Guadalupe. The seagull flew over a fish market next to the town's dock to the ocean. It hovered down, & picked up a bucket of salmon-pink paint. The store owner & the painter were in a heated argument over whether to paint the store ambrosia or cerulean, so, they didn't notice the bird fly off with the paint. Well, the seagull didn't get very far, I tell you what. Eventually, it got to Ho-humville. And, when it did, its feet were too weak to carry such a big bucket. So, it dropped the bucket of paint. However, it happened to drop the bucket on the roof of fellow pencil pusher Mr. Johnson's roof.
Mr. Johnson was horrified when he first noticed the pink paint on his black shingles & white walls. But, then, he got an idea. He went to the hardware store, found the exact same shade of salmon pink, & headed home. The next day, there was a fuss all around the neighborhood and the whole town. Mr. Johnson was painting his whole house salmon pink!
A lot of people showed up to see what Mr Johnson was doing. The Home Owners Association threatened to evict him unless he changed his house back to the way it was before. The police threatened to arrest him. The local pastor even shook the holy scriptures & threatened that Mr Johnson was condemned to go to hell unless he kept his house the way it was before.
But, Mr Johnson said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
When Mr. Johnson said this, the whole town thought he went crazy. There was one person who wasn't appalled by Mr. Johnson's actions was his next door neighbor on the left, Mr. Smith. He was also a pencil pusher who was fighting boredom. And, he always wanted to see the ocean. So, he went to the hardware store and purchased some blue paint.
The next day, Mr Smith began to paint blue waves onto his house. Mr Johnson had finished painting his house salmon & was painting his shingles orange. The whole town had decided to leave Mr. Johnson alone.But, they didn't leave Mr Smith alone. This time, local children at school were receiving extra credit for writing letters to Mr. Smith to try to convince him to change his house back.
But, Mr. Smith said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
The town thought Mr. Smith had lost his mind. There was one person besides Mr Johnson that understood. And, that was Ms. Jones. She was Mr. Johnson's neighbor on the right. She was also a secretary that always loved spring. So, she went to the hardware store & bought spring green paint.
Mr. Johnson was now re shingling & painting the roof. Mr. Smith was now painting a sea green on his house where there was once white. The town was leaving them alone. But, when they caught wind of what Ms. Jones was doing, they protested. The PTO even formed an angry mob around the door, threatening to press federal charges unless she changed her house back.
Ever persistent, Ms. Jones said to all of them "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you can say or do can keep me from following my dream in a suburban home."
The town assumed she had also lost her mind. So, they left her alone. Mrs. Miller, a retired schoolteacher who lived across the street from Mr. Johnson, was watching closely. She had always loved sunsets, & had always wanted to paint her house like one. She bought the yellow-orange paint. But, due to her advanced age, she hired three high school boys to do it.
Again, the town protested. This time, the local nursing home threatened to admit her unless she changed her house back.
Mrs. Miller was older & much wiser than most of the mere mortal town folks. "My house is me, & I am it, & my house is all my dreams. Nothing you do or say can keep me from following my heart in a suburban home."
And so, the pattern continued until each & every house was a unique work of art. And, in the process, more jobs were created that weren't as mundane & corporate. Eventually, they changed the name of the town from Ho-humville to Wonderland.
THE END
Hopefully, this inspired you as much as it did me.
