Consider

When the truth is found, to be lies, and all the joy, within you, dies

Yes. All the average people, conscious and unconscious, recognized the power of that old spell, sung many moons ago by the euhemeristic goddess, Gracie Slick. Some, perhaps most of the average people, following the good advice, found somebody to love as partial mitigation for all the lies. Yet some still wanted more, like maybe, some nice drugs.

Yes. Nice drugs. Many wanted those. But some still wanted truth. Yet in Republico Americano, truth does not pay the bills. The fact is, truth, unlike drugs, never does an average person much good. Never?

Or actually, truth may do an average person some good. But truth may be anathema to the average Americano way of life. Let’s see. How can this seeming Druid Dichotomy be expressed? Ah, ha. Here we go. Which would you rather be, right, or rich?

Given that bifurcation, an average Druid Ovate, like me, would rather be right. Yes. I would rather be right than rich. But a preference for being right rather than rich is arguably stupid, since being rich solves many more problems than being right. Yes. Being right may only address a single problem while not necessarily solving the problem. While being rich, well, being rich just blows problems away, right or wrong.

Afflicted by the desire to be right, afflicted by rectitude, an average person may seek an alternative to the Americano lifestyle or way of life. Yes. Eschewing riches, an average person may drop out, seeking truth on a full time basis, much like the hermits of old. Or, an average person may seek truth part time, enjoying a hobby.

Yea verily, all righty then! There is more truth to be found in a hobby than in a job. That’s fer sure, ovateth the Druid. Which is precisely why, on this particular day, the Druids celebrate, meteors and meteroites.

The most famous Average Amateur Meteor Authority we know is, Karl the Tracker Druid. Karl is a professional tracker. If you lost it, Karl can find it. But we need to let Karl speak for himself, how he went out searching, professionally, and found a truth fraught hobby. Karl is visiting here at the Cow Barn because Ray lost his billfold or wallet. Here’s Karl.

Well, you know yourselves, Ray and Crumby, that any job or profession has its boring instants or down time. Besides, if you are especially good at your job, you may finish up your daily chores, almost instantaneously, leaving your boss or client to wonder, What the heck am I paying this guy for? So it’s important to look busy on the job.

One day I was sitting in my office, enjoying a rousing game of Pinball Space Cadet, when the phone rang. I deftly hit the speaker phone button. I needed to keep both hands free.

Karl the Tracker Druid speaking, if you lost it, I can find it.

Oh Karl. I have lost my reading glasses. You need to come over and find my glasses. They have lots of sentimental value.

Anon, I was headed over to the paying client’s house. The paying client was a still beautiful old lady. When I arrived, her ample bosoms were heaving. Yes.

After I comforted the client, I began to scout around for the lost reading glasses. As usual, I needed to go slow, because I didn’t want to find the glasses immediately and then have to go back to the office. You guys know yourselves, Ray and Crumby, how annoying it is when the trip to and from the job takes longer than the job.

Anyway, as I was pretending to nose around looking for the glasses, suddenly, without any warning whatever, the whole place blew up. Yes. I was a participant in an explosion. It was terrible. There I was, knocked off my feet, on my butt, in the midst of rubble that only seconds before had been a nice, knickknack filled parlor.

Good Goddess, I exclaimed, that Lazy Boy recliner is in flames. Mercy! The glasses are in the Lazy Boy. Those glasses shall assuredly melt if I don’t take immediate action. Where’s my safety equipment?

Anon, I unpacked my safety equipment that I always take along on all my tracker jobs. Safety always comes first. This time I had to put on my fire retardant cape, my gas mask and my asbestos gloves. Then I had to hook up my water hose. It took a minute to find a faucet that my hose could couple up with. Once I had my hose hooked up, I squirted water on the Lazy Boy. Anon, that particular Lazy Boy was generally put out. Mercy! What a dern mess!

Sure enough, there in the smouldering, soggy remnants of the Lazy Boy, were my clients reading glasses. But there was something else. Good Goddess, what’s that?

Well, Crumby and Ray, turns out the other object besides the reading glasses, ensconced in the ruin of the Lazy Boy, was the first of many meteors I have subsequently collected. You twain ought to come over some time, and see my meteor collection.