Blueberry Pancakes

In college, I worked on a semester-long multimedia project with three classmates. One of my classmates, Dan, had a knack for shouting out random phrases that related to the conversation at hand in ways only known to the depths of his subconscious.

The more serious the conversation, the more random the outburst. He would then struggle to explain how his comment related, often working out the explanation as he spoke. One moment that sticks out is when we were in the middle of a long conversation about the project's scope and division of work when he exclaimed, "Blueberry pancakes!"

We stared blankly at him. "What?"
"Blueberry pancakes. I haven't had blueberry pancakes in a while."

I forget his explanation, or if he even offered one. It didn't really matter. He had a lot more blueberry pancake moments, and every now and then, something happens to remind me of the story.

What reminded me of it this time is President Bush's plan to return to the moon and have a manned flight to Mars. I'm a big fan of space flight, and I like his plan as much as his father's plan, who proposed the same thing in his State of the Union address in 1989.

But it's like blueberry pancakes. I can understand the political motivations for his 2005 budget and revision to immigration policy, but who is he trying to impress with this idea, the crowd that loves Spaceballs? "We will return to the moon. And on that spaceship will be a talking dog. And a ruggedly handsome pilot too wild for any woman to handle. Until now. Bush 2004!"

We're talking about terrorism, the budget deficit, universal health care, and tax cuts, and all of the sudden Bush announces, "Moon! I want to go to the moon! And Mars! Pretty, pretty rocks on Mars."

I haven't seen my classmate Dan for years. I wonder if he got into politics.