Youth Part 2

Apparently, even though it’s really illegal to have your own particle accelerator in a regular American basement, no laws exist clearly stating this fact. So my friend Alan spent a few weeks at a military base while it was decided what would happen next. Of course, none of us knew what was happening at the time because Alan was not allowed to be in touch with anyone. I guess they thought Alan might be part of some larger conspiracy and they didn’t want him conspiring while they figured out what was going on.

After all the activity died down at Alan’s house , I began to worry about him. Would we ever see Alan again? Finally, one day I got a call from someone who sounded like Alan, but not exactly. It was his voice I thought, but something was missing. Usually, in everything Alan said you could hear a constant sort of questioning – almost as if he wondered whether you believed him when he simply was telling you something normal, such as how much he liked a movie he just saw or the fact that he was planning to take up a new hobby such as model rocketry. But this familiar quality was missing in the Alan who called me several weeks after the particle accelerator incident. We made arrangements to meet at the TGI Fridays at the mall.

The guy I met looked like my friend Alan and sounded like my friend Alan, but he certainly didn’t act like my friend Alan. What first concerned me was that we always ordered the large beers at TGI Fridays. They have a couple of sizes and we always ordered the ones that are like almost two beers, but in one glass. But this time Alan ordered something called an Arnold Palmer. He just said to the bartender, “Arnold Palmer, please.” I said, “What?!” Alan said, “I just ordered an Arnold Palmer.” “You mean the golfer? You ordered the golfer?” I asked. “No, it’s a drink called Arnold Palmer. It’s got lemonade and iced tea in it,” Alan said and turned to look at me in way that made me shudder.

I turned and looked back at the bartender and he was mixing an Arnold Palmer with zero concern. It was as if people came into TGI Fridays and ordered Arnold Palmers everyday. I asked, “How do you know what’s in an Arnold Palmer?” The bartender looked up and said, “I’m sorry?” I asked again, “How do you know what’s in an Arnold Palmer? Do a lot of people order Arnold Palmers?” “Sure,” he said and shrugged. “It’s a popular drink.”

I looked at Alan who was looking straight ahead and then back to the bartender who had returned to his drink making. Suddenly I felt as if I was in a movie and that I had cotton in my ears and that I was weightless. How could I not know about a popular drink called Arnold Palmer? “Okay,” I said, “Are you guys putting me on?” Alan turned and said, “About what?” “About Arnold Palmer being a drink!" I said beseechingly, "How could I not know that there was a popular drink called Arnold Palmer?!” Alan and the bartender looked at each other and shrugged. Alan said, “Maybe you just missed it.”

Something had happened while Alan was away. Something had happened to Alan and to me and to the whole world and to everything. "Alan," I said. "What's happening?" "We're having a drink at TGI Fridays, just like always," he said. "Oh no. This isn't just like always. Don't try to tell me that this is just like always. Everything is different. You've never ordered a drink called Arnold Palmer. And you've never just sat there and looked straight ahead at a bar. Something is going on. Something has happened."

Youth

Aging is a hot topic lately with such a large portion of the American population entering the later phases of life. It seems that all media is filled with stories about retirement, investments and how getting old isn't so bad. Everyone I know talks about aging. Except my friend Alan. He’s one of those guys who seems unaffected by age; year after year he looks as he has since college.

Alan and I met for lunch downtown the other day and he was acting strangely. As he looked at his watch for the 50th time I began to wonder if he wanted to be elsewhere. We ate lunch silently and Alan left abruptly after paying the bill. It was curious for him not only to act so furtively, but also to pay the bill without calling attention to his generosity. What I didn’t know was that Alan had a date with destiny. Turns out that Alan has been conducting medical experiments on himself for years, and he never told me or any of our friends.

From what I now understand, when atoms are split one of the particles is sent backward in time. An electron flies away from the atom and actually travels backward in time for a millisecond. Alan figured out a way to inject massive amounts of these particles into his blood stream. He invented a particle accelerator with a syringe on one end. As atoms would split he'd funnel the backward time traveling particles into the syringe and into his system. This process counteracted the process of aging in his body. Alan had created his own fountain of youth.

This was all very incredible. It was also very illegal. Regular people are not supposed to have particle accelerators capable of splitting atoms. Especially not in their basements. That day I had lunch with Alan downtown he was on his way to tell his story to a newspaper. The story came out and Alan was famous in days. He also was arrested and apparently in big trouble.

I was shocked. Why would Alan put me in such danger by having a particle accelerator in his basement? Think about it – he probably was radioactive. And since we spent so much time together, probably I am radioactive, too. I mean, sure it's great that his experiment worked and that he looked great and everything but you just don't do that to friends.

Religion

Lots of people feel compelled to succeed in life. They are pushed ever forward by the desire to be the best they can. And why not? Religious people often say that the most pious thing a person can do is to use fully the gifts given to them by God. You show God appreciation for your gift by using it. After all, God went to a whole bunch of trouble picking out a talent that suits every person on the planet, and that's a huge effort.

On the other hand, if the talent is ours, if it truly is a gift from God, then it's ours to do with as we wish. Gifts with strings attached are not much fun to receive.

My friend Alan once gave me a croquet set. It was a really nice set including a durable storage rack with wheels. After I unwrapped it he stood there shifting his weight from one foot to the other -- that expectant posture communicating, "Okay, I'm ready for mine." But I didn't have a gift for Alan and he got all bent out of shape. For the rest of the party he just sulked by the fireplace and spoke only to guests who gave him a gift. I'd be really surprised if God acted like that.