Original Title: The Fruit of Passion
Subject:  Robots and other Dreams
Date: May 17, 2007

Hello,  My Fellow Passion-istas,

    They stood in front of our village Wal-Mart like medieval serfs hoping that the King would come by passing out free stuff.  But it wasn’t their needy hopefulness that caught my attention, it was their coffee can inexpertly covered with construction paper with the words Robot Club scrawled across the front in black magic marker.

    I made eye contact. 

    Mustering all the moxie he had acquired in his fourteen to sixteen years the scruffiest of the three young men holding the Robot Club coffee can blurted out, “Hey lady, do you want to donate to robots?”

    Hesitating, I said, “Hmmm! Let me think. Am I for or against robots?  I have to decide.”  I tapped my chin for effect.  They watched my tapping finger and held their breath. I gave it a good three beats.

    “Yes!! Yes, I am for robots!” I yelled.  And then I emptied my purse of loose change.  The resulting clink of quarters and pennies against tin was cheerful and encouraging.

    My three young robot friends visibly brightened at the sound.

    I asked, somewhat tongue in cheek, “So what’s the goal? Is this to save all the robots in the world or just a particular robot?”

    “Oh no, this is for a competition that we’re building a robot for,” the tallest robot boy, ignoring my poor attempt at teasing, explained patiently.

    “Very nice.” I smiled and then asked, “So what’s your robot going to be able to do?”

    Then the robot love-fest broke out and they all began to talk at once, “Well, we’ve got to develop a rotor arm so that  . . . levels, lots of levels . . .  yea, and then we’re hoping to get the gear box to lift . . . but don’t forget we need to figure out how to keep the load from . . . moving .  . . shifting . . .”  Their hands waved.  Their eyes sparkled.  Their voices cracked.  

    “Wow! Are you guys excited or what?  Good luck with that, you make me wish I had more quarters for you.”  They took a breath and smiled.  I smiled back, wished them luck again, and left them to their begging for robots.

    It made no sense to me—the robot talk, but their passion was almost tangible.  It was strong enough to get three gawky teenagers out of their comfort zone,  turn off their video games, and make them stand in front of the Wal-Mart to ask strangers for money.  It was the passion of big, big dreams, and it was inspiring.  It made me wonder if I have that kind of grit to dedicate to my passions. 

    Is this a great country or what?  They stand in front of our markets and cleaners, hands out and hopeful, trying to build robots, go to camp,  buy new uniforms, protect Bald Eagles, or change the world.  They organize petitions and take up collections.  They sell cookies and candy.  They wash our cars—if we let them.  Once in a while, we should maybe let them, because they’re the good ones, the dreamers and probably someday the doers, and it’s disheartening to be ignored by your neighbors down at the local Wal-Mart.

    But when you love something as much as those boys love robots it’s time to cover a coffee can with construction paper and go make it happen.  Here’s to the robot boys and my dreams and yours.  Dream on.

Linda (Loose Change) Zern           
   

          

Linda L. Zern

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