I never understood where Merry-Go-Rounds got their name. I loved hopping on them but getting off was a challenge. The world would always seem different, out of control and dizzy. Nausea wasn’t uncommon after a brief ride and there was nothing particularly merry about the whole ordeal. I was just a glutton for punishment, I suppose.
I never lost my love of adventure. Roller coasters were a favorite activity for years until I started becoming dizzy and nauseous after most rides, so I gave them up for lesser, gentler thrills. Basketball, bowling, golf and hunting proved to be more soothing experiences that left my balance mostly intact, though a few bowling alleys have left me on my back, staring at the ceiling, if the lanes were oiled excessively.
I forgot how much I disliked the dizzy feeling I used to seek out as a child, until a nasty case of Vertigo attached its spin cycle to my head. It left me reeling for months, and my world seemed to ever be rotating endlessly out of control. Thankfully, it has now eased to a mild annoyance.
Like Vertigo, some things in life are just hard to manage or control. Some things can be worse than others, but one of my least favorite plights to deal with is the dreaded unfounded rumor mill that can spew all sorts of venom for the itching ears among us. I have graduated from this school of hard knocks on several occasions, and each has been as enjoyable as dismounting the merry-go-round of my distant youth.
Recently, my wife brought home yet another dish of dizzying drama that confronted her earlier in the day. She was approached with a barber shop rumor that became a question: “I heard you and Mickey got divorced!” I got a nice laugh from this enlightening revelation, since our marriage has seen few major arguments and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to leave the life of leisure that is found in living with a delightful soul such as myself. Seriously, the only discussion we ever had in 26 years of marriage about divorce was that it wasn’t an option.
Once I stopped laughing, I paused to wonder why anyone would dream up such a hideous scenario and spread it for others to enjoy. It actually angered me for a bit, but then I recalled that the devil is the father of all lies, according to Jesus. So, why wouldn’t he tell one about us?
With this appropriate perspective, I accept that these things will surely come to all of us, but we don’t have to stoop to them. I thought about pursuing the source of this fiction, but since I already know the truth, why play the game? I quit. I’m done spinning to the tune of others’ tales. I can’t fix the person who wished us harm, but I can avoid doing any myself. God will deal justly and mercifully with those I leave in His hands. That frees me of all concern and leaves my hands for holding my wife and even loving my bored enemies who find time for imagining the most fantastic tales. Should they ever write a novel, I’m buying the first copy!