Coyotes. Nature. Troubadour pants.

So what, then, are we to learn from nature? Real nature, I mean—not coyotes. Coyotes are, like, nature’s dogs. It’s like they’ve been domesticated by God, or something. They’re too confusing. Trying to learn a lesson about nature from coyotes would be like taking advanced calculus. Forget it. The kind of Nature Lesson I have in mind is something simple and easily digested. “The wonders of God’s glory are many,” for instance. “Through Nature God speaks to us in a language beyond language” is another good one.

Wait. That one’s really quite good, isn’t it?

I wonder if I could sell that to anybody? Who buys Wise Sayings?

But of course! Fortune cookie companies!

I have no idea how to get in touch with those guys, though. I've never really actually seen--or even heard of, come to think of it--a company where they write fortune-cookie fortunes. I wonder why?

I wonder if there's, like, fortune-cookie fortune writing sweatshops somewhere, where people are all hunkered down at these long, rough hewn tables in these funky, dank warehouses, writing away, while cruel bosses pace behind them, hollering things like, “You call that a fortune? ‘A man and his pajamas are soon parted’?! What are you, trying to be funny?! That’s not a fortune! No lunch for you! C’mon, people! We need inspiring little nuggets here, compact, juicy bits of wisdom! Yesterday someone wrote, ‘You will soon be receiving your dinner bill’! I think you all remember what we did with that joker! Now get back to work!”

May God strike me dead right now if this isn’t true: One time a friend of mine got a fortune-cookie fortune that said: “Troubadour pants look great, and make your feet look big, too!”

It totally had that exclamation point at the end of it, too! Exactly as I typed it--with the commas! My friend opened his cookie, read that, and then, looking deeply tweaked, silently handed the little slip of paper to me. I had to read it about eight times before it even ... registered.

I looked at my friend. He was looking at me. Finally, I articulated what was clearly the question that had riveted us both: “What in the heck are troubadour pants?”

Anyway, right. Lessons from nature.

I am totally going to get back to you on that.

Insights? Advice? A spare moment to kill? Email me at johnshore@sbcglobal.net