What would life be like in a world without gravity? Sir Isaac Newton supposedly discovered universal gravitation when he saw an apple fall from a tree. Back in 1666, Newton realized every mass attracts every other mass in the universe. What he did not envision was gravity’s mischievous nature in an automobile and movie theater.
Recently, my family drove to the Grand Theatre in Hattiesburg to watch a movie.
Ironically, the flick was Ad Astra, which was two plus hours of Brad Pitt floating in space from Mars to Neptune.
We almost missed the picture show because I could not find my smart phone.
The thing was on “silent” mode, and my wife kept calling my number, only to hear a faint vibrating sound coming from somewhere in the car.
All four family members were frantically searching the interior, like we were a team of narcotics agents.
Finally, I found the device under the seat shifting rack in the recesses of my automobile. Somehow, my phone found every narrow passageway to quietly slide into virtual oblivion, the best hiding spot in my ride.
Thanks to gravity, I had panicked, irritated my wife and kids, and barely made the start of the movie, the part where all objects are floating harmlessly around a spaceship.
If only for a moment I could have pulled an anti-gravity lever in my vehicle, several minutes of chaos would have been saved.
With one motion, my phone would have hovered by me for snatching, along with a couple of week-old nasty french fries that likewise found the secret hiding place.
Once nestled in our Lazy Boy reclining seats, I became lost in the movie, as did my wallet that played stealth with me, making no sound as it slipped from my shorts pocket when I reached full prone recline.
Not to be outdone by the phone, my billfold glided into the tiniest crevices between the seat cushion and the frame, lodging in perfect upright position without hitting the floor.
If leather could laugh, it would have guffawed, knowing that gravitational forces had concealed my ticket home.
By some stroke of chance, I reached for my wallet when leaving the theater, and not locating it, hailed two teenage workers who used high powered flashlights to illuminate greasy popcorn and sticky candy goo beneath the seats.
After turning on the lights in the theater and going nose to smelly floor search mode, the wallet finally appeared.
On the drive home, the family talked about the universe and wonder of it all, pondering whether mankind might journey to far-away galaxies.
Not reaching a consensus, we did agree on one point. Gravity is going to keep me grounded on this planet and constantly find new ways to make my possessions magically disappear.
Unlike the green witch in the Broadway musical Wicked, I am not “Defying Gravity” any time soon.
Clark Hicks is a lawyer who lives in Hattiesburg. His e-mail is clark@hicksattorneys.com.
