Express

It is the year 2015.  We are an entire decade and a half into the 21^st century, and yet the age-old question remains.  Are we alone?  Recent advances in technology have allowed astronomers to peer deeper into the chasms of the universe, and, like hidden specks of gold, earth-like planets are continuously discovered.  But do they contain life?  Perhaps more importantly, do they contain life capable of communicating with us?  The answer to these questions may be partially found nearby, tucked inside the tiny town of French Lick, Indiana. 

For much of the world, French Lick is best known as the boyhood home of Boston Celtics legend, Larry Bird.  In much earlier days, however, due to its proximity to mineral springs, the town earned a reputation as a tourist destination.  The area continues to support a set of historical resorts, as well as a full-fledged casino and an indoor water park.  Perhaps the area’s most popular draw, however, particular in the closing months of each year, is the Polar Express.

This one-hour train ride is based on the movie of the same name, which, in turn, was based on the popular Christmas book written by Chris Van Allsburg.  In the story, a young tyke hops a ride on a giant locomotive filled with pajama clad children on its way to the North Pole. The movie follows the same basic plot but allows Tom Hanks to voice at least three different parts:  the energetic conductor, a wizened Santa Claus, and a ghostly hobo eager to feed the young boy soup made out of his disgusting socks.

This attraction, which our kids have enjoyed for the last two years now, has become one of the highlights of the season.  Keeping with the theme, children and some of their more enthusiastic handlers, despite the cold, will stand in line and then board the train dressed in pajamas.  Very soon each car of the train is greeted by its very own entourage of elves, two or three teenage girls who have somehow been able to remove all irony from their demeanor.  Once everyone is boarded, the train begins to lurch down the tracks, slowly moving away from town. 

Very soon the movie’s catchiest song-Hot Chocolate!-pours out of the speakers.  During this time, the elves, now kind of dressed like chefs, I guess, move down the aisle and serve each patron a delicious Styrofoam cup of, well, you know, along with a cookie. 

Now, objectively speaking, this is a weird little trip, partially because the train is not actually traveling anywhere.  It follows a river, slips through a tunnel, and then stops at a spot in the woods that has been decorated to supposedly seem like the North Pole but in reality looks like a very-colorful meth lab.  And then it’s going to go backwards.

 All of this weirdness is enhanced even more so by the conductor, a grandfatherly gentleman who, halfway down the line, begins to lip sync the actual book.  He walks down the aisle, holding the storybook, while a disembodied narrator reads the story over the loudspeaker.  This is then followed by more singing and dancing, and before it’s all over my own father is being decorated like a Christmas tree by not only his own grandchildren but by complete strangers.  The end.

Now, I know what you are most likely thinking.  “Cute story, but I thought we were talking about aliens or something.”  We are, but before we return to the aliens, let’s take a brief branch line to the shopping mall. 

Imagine you are at the shopping mall, and you are at the food court.  You are standing in line for your overpriced pretzel, and the guy behind you begins to mumble something about 19^th century robber barons. You try not to turn around, you tell yourself, “Don’t be rude.  Don’t do it!” but you look, and, sure enough, he’s wearing a banana on his head.  The guy has somehow tied an actual banana to the top of his head and is wearing it like a hat.

Most of us will now try to ignore the crazy person.  Why?  Because we are jerks.  More than anything, the banana guy probably just needs someone to talk to, but ninety-nine percent of us will pretend like we don’t see him. 

Finally, what does this have to do with aliens?  What does this even have to do with the Polar Express?

Ladies and gentlemen, in the shopping mall of our universe, we are the banana-heads.  We are the planet no one wants to talk to.  We pay good money to dress our children in pajamas, put them on a train going five miles into the woods, and then take pictures of them standing next to a stranger who will, we tell them, despite his girth, slide down a chimney and give them toys they have not earned.  And he will do this in one night for the entire planet.

Is anyone really that confused as to why no intelligent life has tried to contact us?  And the Polar Express is just the tip of the ice berg.  According to a research paper written by one of my students, every year human beings spend over a trillion dollars on weapons.  We spend a trillion dollars literally killing ourselves, and yet we wonder why not a single extra-terrestrial has stopped to say, “Hey, how’s it going?  Want a pretzel?”

It’s not all hopeless, though.  Not everyone ignores the banana-heads of the world.  There are people walking the malls right now who make it part of their day to engage and to listen to those who have something to say, even if it doesn’t make a great deal of sense.

So, are we alone?  Considering the dimensions of this place, probably not.  But as long as we’re wearing fruit on our head, we shouldn’t hold our breath.