Riding the Emotional
For aught we know to the contrary, 103 degrees or 104 degrees Fahrenheit might be a much more favorable temperature for truth to germinate and sprout in, than the more ordinary blood heat of 97 or 98 degrees. —William James Varieties of Religious Experience
M arcia was puzzled. Hal was really acting strange. He was doing things that were completely out of character for him. Marcia and Hal were getting ready to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary. It had been a great fifteen years.True, Marcia had given birth to two kids and no longer weighed 105 with a 22–inch waist, but she still was a pretty good-looking 112. Hal was the one who should be able to use the pregnancy excuse! On Marcia's cooking he had ballooned from 140 to 175 and acquired a loveable paunch.
Their fortunes had ballooned as well. Hal was a developer in Santa Fe, and he had a real knack for it.Although the market had leveled a bit during the late 1980s and early 1990s, things had been booming for the last five years. Hal himself had really done well, even during the “soft” times. Hal knew what he was doing and cared about doing it exactly right. People respected his meticulousness. Hal could anticipate better than most, and he worried about all the right details. He could look at 120 acres of land, and where other people saw a wasteland, he could envision roads that took interesting turns to well-sited houses looking at the Jemez or Sangre de Cristo mountains. He wasn't one of those shoddy developers. He also worried about the community and the environment. People trusted him. They knew he was honest, that he wouldn't compromise quality or standards to make an extra buck or two. In the wild whirlwind of Santa Fe real estate, a guy like Hal was a community treasure. Lots of locals were selling out to the Almighty Dollar, and carpetbaggers were also coming in from both coasts … quite literally to capitalize on what could be done in the still unspoiled Southwest. These days Hollywood