What does it take for a fantasy to be foiled, leading into disaster of sortes? Fantasy’s are just that a dream! They are just for fun, not to be acted upon. We all have had some kind of fantasy of some grandeur in our lives, especially when we are faced with tough things to go through in them. Rather then living on a hope and a prayer. We should all see our lives as imperfect, they are just the tests that will make us stronger in the end.
” Don’t worry about the things that life gives you, and are beyond your control. But worry about the things that are in your control, yet you choose not to control them.” Unknown quote.
Making improvements or just trying to improve the excitement level in life, doesn’t mean that we should delve into the wrong side of behaviors. The dividing line between good and evil. Yes I do believe in those two things as the influence to every choice that someone can make. It may be fun to fantasize about being in the “Great train robbery”, and getting away with it. Then being able to rest and relax in the sun. Reminds me of the Van Halen song that goes like ” Got my toes in the sand, got a drink in my hand, Bills are played and got it made in the shade and all I need is a women! Under stand?” Okay I singing and dancing around the house, making like I’m the rock star that I am. But that’s the good kind of fantasy, being in the great train robbery is the kind that leads to prison more than likely. The good and the evil kind of fantasies, which can lead to the wrong side of choices.
If we are trapped in life, beyond our control by choice. Do we then have responsibility’s for our actions? Do we have the right to act out of vengeance for why we are in this mess in the first place. If life gives you lemons make lemonade?
Being trapped in a wheelchair isn’t easy on so many levels. As to why we may find ourself’s in such a place in life? Isn’t the true question to ask. It is just life’s lemons! So these people who have to endure this kind of existences may find it somewhat easier to fantasize about a different time and place. Just to pick up spirits a-bit. There is that song again… Bills are paid and I got it made in the shade. Oh smile and laughs a-bit, at the very least people!
A fantasy of sorts, are the escapes that people need in life, just to take a break from the reality. It is when the lines of fantasy and reality’s blur a bit, or when we strap on beer goggles and view the possibility’s in front of us. You know the 3 or 4 look like the 10’s. In some cases and after a few more cases of beer the 1’s look like the 7 or 8… maybe even 10’s and you just won the loto of love. But then you are really drunk, and aren’t able to perform. With a splitting head-ache the next morning the only thing you are able to remember is ” Man that woman had the deepest voice I have ever heard! ” Then reality kicks in… Was that a… Oh God no! Tell me it isn’t true! When imploring a fantasy into your choices leave the beer goggles to someone else.
Choosing between the good side of life or dabbling into the excitement of, the evil side. consider the consequences of choice. If you are in a wheelchair consider the price to be paid for new-found excitement.
Stan was making his way up the street towards the convenience store. This day was the same as all the rest. It was sunny, with a slight breeze from the sea. Stan hardly took notice of the day at hand. He was transfixed on his destination. He commanded the wheelchair with total control. His skills of the joy stick, guided his wheelchair around obstacles with ease. It didn’t matter if he was passing others walking along his path, or up or down the sidewalk ramps, his speed didn’t slow down much!
With a swoosh of the automatic doors opening, Stan rolled into the store. The clerk greeted him with a smile, but Stan hardly took notice. Moving through the narrow pathways of products offered in the store, his chair stopped in front of the coolers where the beer was kept. Stan struggled with the doors and retrieved a 12 pack of his favored beer. With a slight movement of the joy stick and the chair wheeled around and made its way to the checkout counter and the clerk.
” Will that be all sir?” The clerk again, then smiled at the costumer.
Stan hardly heard what the clerk said to him, do to the accent of the man speech. Glancing only for a moment making eye contact he responded. ” Ya. There is!” Producing a knife, and pointing it at the clerk, he then made full eye contact. His eyes looked cold and determined, noticing the clerk surprised look along with some confusion as well. He knew he had a narrow window of opportunity, with the element of surprise. He ordered! ” Give me all your money! Now! Do you want me to do something? I’ll flay you like a fish! Lets go, all of it now!”
The clerk was robbed twice in this month, last time by a 16-year-old who pressed the gun into his mouth. This time he didn’t fear the robber. This punk in a wheelchair of all things… I’m going to knock him out of the chair and call the police. He thought. Backing up at the same time away from the cash resister. Moving slowly with the stealth of a lion about to attack his pray.
” Hay! Didn’t I tell you… get your ass over to the cash, and give it all to me!” manoeuvring his chair to counter the movements of the clerk.
“Just take the beer and go!” He commanded, at the same time pointing towards the door.
“What? Old man…” Stan was puzzled and didn’t quite know just how this was playing out. Trying to work it out in his head at the same time trying to look intimidating. The voices of his conscience was telling him to get out with the beer. Yet the arm holding the knife was influencing him to go for it all! “Dud I’ll cut you… just give me the money! You’ll get it back from the insurance.”
The clerk now was moving around the corner by a candy display, in full view of each other. For a short moment of time they didn’t move, or say anything. How could this wheelchair bandit think he would have even a half of a chance with robbing anyone? The thoughts of a former police officer, the job he had in his country of his origin. He was now looking for the right opening to strike.
With the speed of a striking snake! Stan was now bitten! The fight was on! The clerk was in an award position for fighting, like he was leaning over a counter, do to the position of the seated robber. His arms were flying around striking Stan in the face. Stan was maneuvering to avoid the lashing strikes as well trying to hang on to the knife and beer at the same time. The other hand was trying to direct the movements of the wheelchair in full retreat. The clerk was trying to unfasten the seat belt that held the robber into his chair. The legs of the aslant didn’t seem like they could maneuver, so the belt was keeping him up in the full seated position. Just what the seatbelt was designed for. His intentions were to knock the robber out of the chair and then move the chair out-of-the-way and call the police to arrest him. With the seat belt keeping this from happening, he now was trying to hit him, along with trying to turn him over completely! Wheelchair and all, if he must!
Stan realized quickly this clerk wasn’t to be messed with so he went to plan “B”. He struck the man in the legs 3 times quickly, with the hand that was holding the knife. Each time the knife plunged into the clerks leg the pain was registered on the face with the look of disbelieving agony. The clerk fell backwards, holding his leg and letting go of the wheelchair robber. All the while yelling at him in his native tong. Spinning the chair around and out the door. Stan realized I could have killed the man for what? BEER! Thoughts were bouncing around his head like BB’s in a railroad box-car, with “what the Hell!” and ” How do I get out of hear with all my ill-gotten loot of Beer?”
Down the street just as he had come. At a fast pace and with great manoeuverability weaving around people and obstacles. The skill of having used the chair for a while. With the sound of the sirens in the distance he decided to catch the next ally. Swooping into it he headed towards the back and then around the end of the building.
Suddenly Stan lunched forward, stopped only by his seatbelt, as his chair came to a compleat stop! If it weren’t for his belt he would have been thrown to the ground in front of his chair. He quickly looked around and assessed the problem. With his heart still pounding he slowly realized he was trapped in loose sand. The biggest problem for a person in a wheelchair. A hazard I suppose for living neer the beach. Caught like a fly on fly paper. Stan waited for the inevitable end of getting caught and arrested. With only time on his hands he thought… If I’m going down for this may as well drink these beers or they will get warm.
The name that was used in these events was the work of fiction, but the story is true. Read the link and read the true story. It should help in pointing out there is always a different way to find excitements in life. Even when the end of the stories are the same. You got it made in the shade…. you’re finding yourself relaxing with your toes in the sand, and a drink in your hand, and your thinking…….?
Thanks for the read. All the best!