Day 86

As I was walking to the store the other day to get lunch, I glanced up and saw a plane writing a smoke message in the sky. Now I should preface by stating that we Angelenos are not surprised by much, seeing as we live in a city that inhabits the entire spectrum of race, gender, status, worldview and economics – and media incessantly assaults every part of these spectrums somewhat equally. Still, writing messages in the (sometimes) (OK, rarely) clear blue is not common, so I continued to watch the earnest pilot as letters trailed after him/her/it (...like I said, I live in L.A. ...):

“Welcome Home.”

Unsure as to whether or not this message was meant for anyone in particular or simply an ad for new real estate, I looked away to continue my lunch transaction. When I exited the store, I noticed that there were two names written at the end of the message, but the smoke had already dissipated such that I could not clearly read who the message’s recipients were. Perhaps they are soldiers just home from Iraq? Maybe children returning from college? Either way, I thought that it was a sweet thing for the message commissioner to do – a kind gesture made more poignant by the pilot’s futile efforts to quickly etch that last “M – E” in the sky before the first “W” dissolved completely. I imagined proud parents at a backyard party hugging their child, pointing at the heavens and saying to them, “Look what we did for you.” Enough to make the most cynical person smile.

Yesterday while walking to lunch, I noticed another plane flying lower in the sky, this one towing a banner with the same message I saw the day before. The words were much more legible on the banner, thus I clearly read the names of those being welcomed home and realized that it was an advertisement for a reality TV show…

Go ahead, be as cynical as you please.