Mouseover

What a beautiful feature, the way that passing the mouse pointer over a hyperlink on the internet causes the destination where it will take you to appear at the bottom of the browser window. I believe it’s called a mouseover.

So many things would be so wonderful were they only possible in life as well as the internet. What if as you passed by a bar, the endpoint of your night if you were to enter appeared in the air in front of you in a SanSerif font? What if as you reached for a person in lust or love, called them or emailed them or accepted their invitation for a walk or a hike or a dinner or a drink, your ultimate destination as two disparate and now irrevocably linked people were unassumingly writ at the bottom of the bigger picture? What if contaminated food caused the words “food poisoning?” to float in the air right next to it? What if the loading of troops onto planes bound for troubled parts of the world was accompanied by polite skywriting that said, “INSURGENCY QUAGMIRE?”

“Nowhere fast,” the writing at the bottom of the browser window of life might say. “Six months of bliss, three months of downward spiral, four months of loneliness and regret.” “A night of projectile vomiting, a day of gelatinous weakness in the limbs.” And not all bad–“unexpected and fascinating information about Biblical times,” it might portend. “A new texture and flavor you never knew you liked.” “The impulsive gift of a free Zippo lighter.” “The fruits of someone else’s comprehensive illegal downloading.” “A heartwarming encounter with a talented subway musician.” “Unabashed stares from sexy firefighters.” “Words of wisdom from a very old lady who sells mozzarella.”

Of course, I know better. I know that what makes all of these things good, or at least worthwhile, is that we don’t know what’s going to happen before it does. That’s because these things are life, and it’s not knowing what will happen next that keeps things interesting.