Rex Simpson sat in his lab chewing on a pencil in frustration.  He was president of the local chapter of the “Flat Earth Society,” and had been asked to give a talk at this evening’s meeting.  The Global Warming advocate who had been scheduled had cancelled at the last minute.
        Rex had to figure out how to make a connection between the effects of global warming and the society’s belief that the Earth was flat.  He reminded himself to ask their program director what she was thinking when she chose a global warming speaker.
        The “Flat Earth Society” had been organized (its detractors would say ‘spawned’), several years ago on the West Coast and slowly spread across the country.  In Hollywood, it was fostered by several low-budget film makers.
        Rex’s buddy, Jake, popped in to give encouragement and suggestions.  “How’s it
going?” he asked.
        “Not well,” Rex replied.  “I can’t seem to come up with the logical connection that I need.”
        Jake asked, “Did you hear that brown bears are now moving north into Polar Bear territory, and creating conflicts?  The Global Warming expert would probably have stressed that.”
        “Well,” Rex mused, “that area of the Arctic is obviously flat, so we could use that as a point of agreement.  Now we need to decide whether our emphasis should be on stressing the common ground between our two groups, or proving how much more logical our position is.”
    
Jake got two beers from the fridge and sat down to consult with Rex.
        “Of course, we will open with our Credo: We are sure that the Earth is flat, because we can look at the horizon and not see it curve.”
        Jake took a swig of beer and said, “Here are a couple of zingers that you can use to throw off the ‘Global Warmers,’ if you want to.  First, the Earth is now cooling and will do so until 2030.  Second, real environmental scientists doubt that humans are responsible for global warming, and even if we cut our carbon emissions, the Chinese and Russians won’t go along.”
        “Yeah, that gives me something to work with as far as combating the Global Warmers, but how about the strength of our organization?  Our latest membership figures aren’t encouraging.”
        Jake suggested, “We need something to energize and motivate our members to spread our doctrine.  How about establishing our meeting site as a medical marijuana clinic? After all, our state has voted to legalize medical marijuana several times.  The Feds are overdue to be challenged for trampling on our state’s rights.”
        “Maybe later,” Rex said.  “For now, I need to get this speech firmed up.
    
The “Flat Earth Society” held their regular meetings in one of the vacant shops in a deteriorating strip mall.  For this meeting, Rex had appointed a couple of the members to act as security aides, in case things got out of hand. 
        Rex and Jake arrived early to set up seating and assess the potential for trouble.
        At 7:00 p.m., the usual time for the meeting to begin, Rex looked over the group of about thirty people.  He recognized about half of them as members, and figured that another dozen or so were global warming enthusiasts who had heard about the scheduled speaker. That left a half dozen rather tough-looking individuals sitting together in a corner. 
    
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Rex cleared his throat and began,   “Ladies and gentlemen, please join us in reciting our Credo.”
        He surveyed the group and noticed that everyone had joined in except the group in the corner.  Rex had brief notes, but expected mostly to use a question-and-answer format.  Things went smoothly for about thirty minutes.  Then the “corner group” became vocal.
        One popped up and said, “What were you nut cases smoking when you came up with your goofy theory?  You should have lived in the days of Columbus, so you could have warned him not to sail off the edge.”
        One of his buddies added, “I second the motion. We will be happy to send you back there.”         One of the security aides walked over to them and said, “Gentlemen, please sit down and stop interrupting or we will escort you out.”
        “You and who else?” one of them mumbled, but they did sit down.
     
Finally, the meeting ended and Rex relaxed.  Cookies and punch were served as the members chatted among themselves.  The ‘outsiders’ left quietly.
        Rex heard one of the members comment that things were getting so bland that he probably wouldn’t renew his membership.
        “Okay, Jerry.  Let’s get some people together and decide how we can revive our group.”
    
Rex, Jake, Jerry, the complaining member, and Marie, the Program Director, formed an impromptu panel.  Jake suggested trying to get the marijuana license and then applying for a grant from the Metropolitan Redevelopment Program to move their activities to a better location.
        “How would that work?” Jerry asked.
        “First we join the Metro,” Jake said.  “Then we present the case that we would move out of the storefront location, so that the deteriorating strip mall could be bulldozed and a parking garage built. Isn’t that what they’ve been advocating?”
        “That’s right,” Marie said.  “The Women’s Council has an office near the Metro Project headquarters, and there are a couple of empty buildings in the vicinity.”
        Jake added, “There are also a number of doctor’s offices nearby.  Look at the potential for referrals to our ‘clinic’ that might produce.”   Within three months the plan had been implemented.  Membership doubled and the group got a featured write-up in Marijuana Today.
    
  
                       About the Author
     
        SIG member, Sarah Sword, lived in a number of locations before moving to Tucson, Arizona and later retiring from Federal Civil Service. She joined Mensa in 1977 and enjoyed many mind-expanding experiences and a lot of fun with good friends.                 Having a number of short stories and two poems published in Calliope over a number of years is a continuing incentive to keep on writing.