Instantly

My favorite breakfast is oatmeal with brown sugar and milk. Real oatmeal that you boil for a few minutes; not the instant variety. Actually, nothing is instant, only faster or slower like time and velocity. In theory, at light speed, time stands still-- infinite mass required but you can't get there from here. Instant is still no panacea, even if you do save time. You can't set it aside for later or take it with you-- am I missing something? People claim to be born again at revival meetings, instant salvation realized but that doesn't seem fair. A lifetime of thoughts and deeds versus an instant of repentence. I was always taught you had to work at being saved. I've never heard of a serial killer being released from prison just for saying, "I'm sorry." Actions speak louder than beliefs or spoken words. I remember the Gulf War, smart bombs and instant updates-- Stormin' Norman with a perpetual scowl on hie face, hourly news briefings complete with charts and video tapes; Iraq the real life version of the mouse that roared. Foreign reporters in Baghdad, a bizarre scenario--instant relays of war's most exciting moments. Saddam Hussein reminiscent of Doctor Strangelove; Slim Pickens astride a Tomahawk missile, that loveable kamikaze cowpoke, spurs jangling in rhythm to "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys." And I, finally back in Paris, relaxing on a balcony overlooking the Arc de Triomphe, fondling a glass of montrachet. That's the problem with instant-- no time for foreplay.