
Photo credit: Cheri Lucas @ Automattic
The hill was not very tall, but some people rode the little cable car anyway. Unhealthy people rode it because too much walking made them sweaty and gave them trouble breathing. Lazy people rode it because it saved them precious calories. Businesspeople rode it because it was easier to play with their phones if they didn’t have to walk at the same time. Small children rode it because they like riding in small vehicles and making vroom-vroom noises. Tourists rode it because their guidebooks said they should, or else their vacation was an utter failure. Whenever none of the above were around, the little cable car had time to himself. Being a mere cable car with nowhere else to go, he spent this time thinking to himself.
One day the little cable car thought to himself, “My job is stupid.”
In that blessed golden age when my sister and I still had Dad in our lives, years before we would begin taking turns conducting periodic manhunts in vain, we never saw him happier or more vibrant than when Mom would let him dress us in our Sunday finest so we could walk with him door-to-door around the neighborhood, knocking on doors and extolling the virtues of the Great Pumpkin.