Page Title

    As fall falls on us with its blend of Halloween colors, the
filigree lace of tree branches against an autumn sky, and the
anticipation of leftover trick or treat candy, our thoughts
naturally turn to physics. At least that’s how things are here on
the porch in company with a bluetick hound and an adult
beverage.
   A long time ago now, a guy with a great moustache and hair
that wouldn’t stay combed coined what he called “The Theory of
Relativity.” It had something to do with mass and energy and the
speed of light and he was able to pull this off because he was
the only one who knew what he was talking about. He got to be
famous over that, though, and they named some bagels after
him.
   But, hey, how long ago was that? We’re past due for an
updated theory of relativity, and that’s why we’re here on the
porch, after all. We never were as strong as we used to be any
more, but like any handicap, that just sharpened the brain to the
point of downright embarrassment.
    So here’s the “Theory of Relativity, P.I.” (Porch Improved):
G=N*DIF.
    For those of who aren’t blessed with an honorary diploma
from Owens Valley High School, allow me to translate. In layman’
s terms, it reads “Greed equals the need multiplied by the
distance in the family.”
You’re welcome.
  This formula was not arrived at haphazardly, but only after
several hours of cosmic contemplation and beverage sipping.
To explain how this works, all we need to do is study the
relationships in a family. Would you borrow a shovel from your
wife? No, of course not. If a guy didn’t have access to his own
shovel, he’d never hear the end of it, from his wife or from any
of the guys at the feed store who heard about it. That kind of
deal just doesn’t work when it’s that close to home.
  So do you borrow that shovel from your brother? Again, the
word will spread within the family, and they’ll all nod their heads
knowingly, thinking silently all the while, “We all knew he’d come
to this. He has grandchildren, for Pete’s sake, and can’t afford a
shovel.”
  So what we want to do here is skip several degrees of
relationship until we find just the guy we need: perhaps our
sister-in-law’s cousin. With him we have a double bonus going
for us, because he is far enough removed from the family to
actually have enough money to own a shovel, and he is also far
enough removed that if he calls us names and reviles us for our
penury, we don’t care. It’s a double blessing, thanks to the
Theory of Relativity, P.I.
  But, you say, (astute observer that you are) the T. of R., P.I.
says you multiply the need times the distance in the family,
right? Of course. That’s why we’re not simply going to hit him up
for use of the shovel, but plan to wheedle and whine until he
comes over with that new front-end loader and does the digging
for us, too. Taking it to its logical far-out conclusion, if this sister-
in-law’s cousin had an uncle with a half brother, we could hit that
half brother up for all the dirt moving and lunch besides!
   That’s the genius of this updated theory of relativity. The
more removed the relative is, the more likely he is to be well
fixed and the greedier you are allowed to become.
    Let’s face it; it’s really only the immediate family we care
about. The ones we have to face at Thanksgiving. When we
start branching off into distant cousins and aunts-once-
removed, it should be for a good reason. That’s why it’s always
good to do your homework before putting the T. of R., P.I. into
practice. Learn something about this distant relative that you
can use as a lever to open the goody jar. For example, you
could smile, introduce yourself as being kinfolks, and say “I
understand you’re a citizen of the United States. What a
coincidence!”
Then, after the two of you have compared the Fourth
Amendment with the findings of the Continental Congress, you
can make your pitch for that Chevy pickup of his.
  But things don’t always work out the way you hope. For
example, even after considerable family research, I’ve failed to
put Bill Gates even on the fringes of my relativity. Oh well, no
one said physics was perfect.



		Please click here to visit New Mexico Magazine.





	This article appears monthly in New Mexico Magazine. We are proud to bring past articles to you, and hope you will check out current issues of New Mexico Magazine and Ol' Slim's Views from the Porch. Please check in with us every month for another one of Ol' Slim's Views from the Porch.