On days when I’m daydreaming especially hard, I’m visited by Augie, my personal angel.

 Augie’s oddly shaped for an angel. His wings are too small for his stout body, so he takes long hops over the sagebrush rather than actually flying in from above. Augie wears red, full-body underwear and a big, white cowboy hat. He listens to me. He’s my kind of angel.

 Late yesterday afternoon, after an exhausting day of failing to get my point across to an assortment of confused people, someone bumps me in the back. It’s Augie, stumbling in from the west.

 “Augie,” I say, “Why can’t you enlighten all these people who think their way is always the right way? None of them can make room in their thick skulls for different points of view.” I scowl as Augie shoots me one of his all-knowing winks from under the brim of his oversized cowboy hat. “I thought it was your job to make this earth a better place,” I tell him. “I can’t do it on my own.”

 “Well Don,” says Augie, “You keep me pretty busy just making sure your heart stays pumping.” He attempts to give me one of those good-natured slaps on the back. “Besides,” he says, “It’s not a piece-of-cake type of miracle to open people up to new ways of thinking. From early childhood, you humans accumulate all kinds of beliefs that lock you into one-track thinking.”

 “You aren’t working hard enough, Augie,” I insist. “Why don’t you sneak up and scare the most cynical offender? Shake them out of their fantasy world.”

 “Okay, I’ll get busy,” agrees Augie. He hops away, my awkward angel.

 I go back to daydreaming about the way things should be.

 All of a sudden, I’m startled out of my wits.

 “Boo!” Augie says.