Excuse me, advertiser, but you can’t read my mind.

I get ads in my e-mail all the time. Today, I got one with this headline:

“What you’ve been waiting for!”

They have a hovercar! I grinned and did a happy sort of wiggle in my office chair as I opened the e-mail.

hovercar

Sadly, I was disappointed. Not only was there no hovercar, they wanted to sell me scented soaps, which, also sadly, I am allergic to. After eating half a bag of peanut M&Ms to soothe my disappointment, I went back to writing.

Except I still can’t get over the whole no hovercar thing, because I really, really want a hovercar before I die.

Before you get all gaspy and pull away from your computer in horror, no, I’m not expecting doom to arrive at my door at any moment, although with my luck, I’ll walk outside and have a flying cow land on me.

My obituary—killed by flying cow.

That unlikely event made me think of a conversation I had with a friend the other night at dinner. She’s a teacher and she reads my books because she loves fiction. Her college-age daughter reads non-fiction, and some of her recent favorites have been books on constitutional law and the firefighter’s test. She loves the realest of real things, and really, you can’t get any realer than that.

She reads constitutional law for pleasure.

I swear I am not making this up.

When my friend suggested my books to her daughter, her daughter said she couldn’t read them because, “Connie changes everything.”

Wow. That may be the best compliment I have ever, ever gotten. All my hopes and dreams summed up in three words—Connie changes everything. I need that written on a plaque to hang on my wall:

Connie changes everything.

As if I could, like in my dreams, reach out a hand and make everything the way it should be. That no child would be hungry, homeless or denied an education.

That for once, the entire planet might speak with a single voice to make sure all its citizens not only mattered, but deserved protection and equal rights.

Wow.

Connie changes everything.

I want that to be my super power, although I hear capes are passé.

Connie out.

 

One thought on “Excuse me, advertiser, but you can’t read my mind.”

  1. Hovercars … hmm … let’s give the drunks a better chance to hit my house. That might take some thought into a work-around.

    Capes are kind of cool, however the spandex might be a bit much :-).

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