If there was ever any doubt
that homo sapiens are herd animals,
check the ease with which we line up.
Note it is not unlike simple sheep.
Missing and not needed is the border collie.
Go to kindergarten,
get in line.
Go to the zoo with parents,
get in line.
Go to a movie with chums,
get in line.
Go to a concert on a date,
get in line.
Graduate from any school,
get in line.
Join the Marines for
advanced line behavior and
get in many, many lines.
Pay your taxes, vote, or go to church,
get in line.
Get your flu shot,
get in line.
Don’t get your flu shot,
sit in line in the waiting room.
Go grocery shopping,
get in line.
Be different from the crowd,
and you are out of line.
The young folks like lambs
want to gambol,
get in line.
Now old timers are also
old liners.
So far they have spent years
standing in lines.
They have come, as Orwell predicted,
to love the line.
To them it is a high cultural chain
that binds us together.
Each in line is a link in the chain,
where each link
is connected to the next.
Watch how the old ones treat these connections.
It may well be their social event
on a dull day.
Connection clues are sought
in others’ market baskets.
With multiple cat food cans,
connecting conversation can start
with tales of tabby.
Astute clerks tell of their cats.
Now lots of baby food is a cinch.
Loads of beer and hot dog buns
spark conversations about family fun.
Movie lines make critics of us all.
Now if there is an after-life,
one line will sweat
as the other flutters.
Either way, when reaching the destination
there will, of course,
be a long reception line.
Doug Minnis
September 20, 2009