Big John Hudson burst through the front door of Sarah’s Diner, sauntered up to the big round table where sat the various members of the Circular Congregation Breakfast Club, slapped his ball cap down with the authority of an umpire calling a base runner out at home plate, and confidently exclaimed, “You can quit worrying. I found my new career!”

“I didn’t know I had been worrying,” snorted Harrison Winkle, as he looked around the table. “Anyone else been worrying about John’s job search?”

A chorus of voices, emanated from mouths still chewing on eggs, bacon and sausage gravy (but nary a morsel of fruit or granola), as everyone mumbled in unison, “Nope.” “Uh-huh.” And, “Is that what John’s been babbling about for the past few weeks? I thought he was trying to find a partner for Dancing with the Stars.”

“Scoff if you want,” grumbled Big John, “But, I am on to something. This is going to be the way out of my dead end job.”

John had been on a job search ever since he came to the conclusion that delivering adult diapers to aging Baby Boomers might not be the career path that would get him all the way to retirement.

“Oh good,” laughed Firewalker. “John says we an scoff if we want to. Anyone want to help me scoff.”

Again, the chorus sang out with comments like, “I’m in.” “You bet.” And, “Does this mean John’s not going to be on Dancing with the Stars?”

Eventually the chortling, guffawing, and scoffing died down long enough for Tommy Jones (the elder statesman, and least obnoxious of the group) to politely ask (against his better judgment), “Just what is this new career path, young Padawan?” (Tommy got a little mixed up with his Star Wars and Dancing with the Stars references).

“I’m going to open a problem solving service. It’s the perfect gig. Everyone has problems and all those problems need solutions. People pay good money to get other people to solve their problems – they’re called consultants. Big corporations hire them all the time. I’ll be working until I can’t stand it any longer.”

“I can’t stand it now,” mumbled Jimmy as he dabbed at the grape jelly clinging to the corner of his mouth. “What makes you think you can solve other people’s problems?”

“Let’s say you have a problem with having to mow your lawn,” John began. “There are plenty of solutions, but how do you know which solution to take?”

“I’d say the best solution is to get off your butt and go mow your lawn,” growled Mort.

“That is one solution,” agreed John. “But, you need a long-term solution – one that comes from thinking outside the sack.”

“Outside the sack?”

“I’ll get a box to think outside of, after the money starts rolling in. Right now, I’m just using a plastic bag from the grocery store.” John explained. “Mort mows the lawn this week, it looks nice, but it isn’t a long-term solution. Next week he has to mow the lawn all over again. Mort’s solution is to mow the lawn again, then again, then again. The problem never goes away. That’s not a solution. That is just putting off the inevitable.”

“What do you mean ‘the inevitable’?” asked Harry. “The grass grows, you mow the grass – the inevitable is that you go get more gas and put it in the lawn mower. The only problem is deciding between a 22-inch push mower or a riding mower with a 48-inch deck.”

“When the snow comes, the problem is solved. No more mowing,” grinned Mort, as if he had just readjusted the space-time continuum.

“Until spring comes and the grass starts growing again.” John was on a roll, and almost making sense. “My solution would be to kill the grass, pave the yard with asphalt, and spray paint it green – lawn mowing problems solved for good.” John sat back and grinned like he had just been asked to the prom.

“There is a very fine line between genius and insanity,” observed Tommy. “Now, my only problem is deciding which side of that line you call home.”

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.