When the fixer needs fixing
Donald is a native of Tennessee. His wife Therese was born here in California a few short years later. Tennessee and California are a fair distance apart. It’s not worlds apart or galaxies apart. but it’s almost a third of the distance around this ball we call Earth. That’s a fair distance if we measure in miles or feet or inches.
I don’t know how to describe Donald, so we’ll get back to him later and we’ll concentrate on Therese for the time being.
Therese is a fixer. She comes from a family of fixers. If you can compare humanity to a swarm of bees, you will find the Queen, the soldiers, the workers and, I believe, the fixers. I think every swarm must have its fixers.
If not for the fixers, the entire swarm would freeze because the hive would fall into disrepair within just a few generations. The fixers are the real power within the hive or swarm — whichever term you like is fine with me so I’ll use both intermittently. I hope that makes you all happy at some point while you read this column.
The Queen is beautiful but all she is good for is laying eggs. The fixers decide if the egg will go to the soldiers or the workers. That’s where the real power lies, and therein begins a vicious circle that is endless, and in time the fixers find that they themselves have a need to be fixed. If the need arises, the number of soldiers will far outweigh the number of workers.
Hopefully, at some point there will be enough soldiers, and more and more workers can be produced to repair all the damage the soldiers have done. The making of workers is the joy of a fixer’s life but it is also the most heartbreaking and painful task a fixer will ever have to do. In time, the fixer will need to be fixed.
In the swarm, at a certain point, the fixer knows that the workers will start building walls to keep the returning soldiers from getting back into the hive. At this point, everybody is crying and everybody but the fixers turn cold. The soldiers want to be fixed and they can feel the warmth of the fixers, but the new soldiers keep them at a distance until the new workers can finish the walls to keep them out. Everybody is crying.
There is an immense swarm of humanity between Tennessee and California. Humanity like bees swarms around, bumping and brushing against each other not knowing why, but they keep on doing it. Like beehives, it all seems to work out just fine for everyone but the returning soldiers. What do we do with the returning soldiers? Do we kill them? No, I think not.
The walls! Oh yes, the walls. We need to build more walls and call them prisons. We can send all of the black soldiers and all of the unruly white soldiers to prisons, and let them do their soldier things to themselves where it won’t affect us. Not only that, but we can make a big dollar industry out of housing them. BIG DOLLAR!
Here is the truth. You can believe what you hear or see on the news or on the mainstream media, but it’s all a lie. If you want to see where the returning soldiers are, go to a prison and look through a hole in the wall. I have been there and I didn’t think I would ever survive long enough to get out. I have seen all of the black soldiers and all of the unruly white soldiers doing their soldier things behind the walls we keep building. I know this is true. You can believe me or you can kiss my ass.
Therese is a fixer. Not knowing why, Donald fought his way through millions and millions of faceless humanity to get near to her warmth hoping she can fix him. Therese now works so hard for him that so very often she needs to go home to her family of fixers to be fixed herself. Now, when Therese is ill with the flu or a bad cold, Donald will lie next to her to keep her warm, making sure she is breathing and all is well.
So in the end, Donald, a returning soldier, has found a place to fit into the swarm. Donald is one of the lucky ones. Donald can stay warm by the fixer while helping the fixer along its way to fixing everything in the hive. Donald tries to fit in with the workers but he doesn’t know how. Donald might overdo it sometimes, but we should overlook that, just to be nice.