I can’t lie. I’m loving life. I’m loving LIFE. LIVING. The act of breathing. The little sacs in your lungs called alveoli. The word alveoli.
It’s all so up and down, mysterious and monotonous, wonderful and wasteful. There is no getting your head around the whole thing. We are all just guessing. But when you add it all up it’s pretty darn good to be an Earthling right about now. I mean think about it.
Doesn’t it feel good every morning to wake up on the densest planet in the whole solar system? I think our gravity is just about perfect. We actually get to experience what it’s like to jump, run, and fly. How many other gravities give you all three in a breathable atmosphere? (OK, probably an infinite amount do but c’mon, everyone knows that “infinity” is a copout science answer at the moment.)
I’m just saying it would be so corny if everyone bounced around all the time like they do in those movies from the moon. It would be like life was one big blooper reel. No thanks. I’ll pass. I really do think a decent gravity makes for a decent planet. Without a good, solid, and manageable gravity, a planet will never go anywhere in this universe.
And I gotta say I’m loving being third from the sun too. I can go out and get some sun rays on my pasty animal skin and it doesn’t burn me to a crisp or sear my eyeballs. It’s like the planet gets that warm and toasty, fresh out of the dryer feeling everyday. And us. We’re golden. We are the sun’s footloose and free-willed deli rotisserie cooking so slowly we pay to speed it up.
But if we were further out and it was a lot colder, think of how many things we would never get to do. Skateboarding is probably out. Surf rock… out. Wind chimes… out. This list goes on and on and includes other things like malaria, Dunkin’ Donuts (ok, the franchise still exists but the menu is drastically altered), and hypothermia (in a cold world, we would first and foremost discover a cure for hypothermia). So third from the sun in this case is a first rate existence.
And yet as good as we have it, we also know the other side of the coin all too well. We know the pain and struggle of being a downtrodden life-form. We know what it feels like to be in the minority. We will never have the sheer numbers of the insects, for instance. They outnumber us a zillion to one and have fought off all our diabolical chemical warfare plots. Don’t even get me started on plants.
But as land-walkers, we are even further down the planetary hierarchy. Will we ever have the political clout to rule over 71% of the planet like our water-born Napoleonic friends—the whales. They make the brief reign of the Roman Empire look like a skid mark on the underwear of time. We are so out of our element on this planet, we might as well make our houses out of fire and only live in burning rainforests. It’s would be as rare as breathing air and living on dry land. Perhaps one day we’ll be able to amicably shake hands with our underwater cousins, but until then I’m loving every second of what we have. We are on the greatest planet I’ve ever been to, that’s for sure.