If I were sitting on a park bench eating a sandwich, and suddenly found myself being lifted high into the air by space aliens bent on abducting me for a medical experiment, I probably would either panic and go into hysterics, or become paralyzed with terror. In either case, the sandwich would be forgotten in quick order.
I found this snail munching on a leaf in the middle of the sidewalk. I picked it up to move it somewhere safe, fully expecting it to retreat into its shell in alarm -- but no, it brought the leaf along and went on eating placidly, like a tiny, slow-witted cow of the air.
Perhaps one of those down-home radio show hosts could turn this into one of those down-home homilies about knowing what's truly important in life -- like a full belly and a warm back, as my father was fond of saying.
Rather an atypical piece of folksy wisdom from a man who did not grow up poor, but then my father was a strange man.
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