The oftentimes absurd futility of the human condition expressed by that truism seems to me to be hard at work of late in the ongoing debate between those who would have the Rim Country become Arizona's answer to Aspen, and those who would prefer to see the region remain pretty much the way it is.

One the one hand, we have a fairly sizable group of growth-oriented, progressive individuals who clearly support the rapid development and expansion of what they feel are the area's most valuable, yet-untapped natural resources. They see the Rim Country as a second-home mecca for upscale escapees from the Valley's summer heat, and as a year-round outdoor playground due to its striking beauty and mild climate. Hard to ignore, these folks come armed with glowing economic projections, impressive demographic reports, and artist's conceptions of spectacular developments to come.

On the other hand, we have a highly motivated and equally vocal assemblage, adamantly opposed to what they consider the blatant exploitation for profit of those same natural resources. This group is composed mostly of long-time local and some not-just-local personalities who fear the irretrievable loss of a pristine paradise. Arguments in this camp run the gamut, from those of the affluent "we-got-ours" crowd, to those of the conservative "controlled growth" proponents, many of whom are truly concerned with the inevitability of some measure of esthetic deterioration.

The fury with which these warriors publicly attack each other's positions causes the observer to feel that he must choose one particular side of this issue, that someone must be right, therefore, the other wrong. Worse yet, the issue takes on such an air of importance that it tends to make one forget that, regardless of who ostensibly wins the argument, whether that victory occurs in the editorial pages or at a dinner party, it may ultimately make little or no difference at all in the eventual outcome of the issue.

I have come to understand that Mother Nature has a way of resolving many of our merely mortal squabbles. Routinely horrendous earthquakes in neighboring Southern California are textbook examples of how puny and insignificant man's greatest efforts are to meaningfully shape his immediate surroundings. Our best laid plans are transient at best, awaiting only Fate's next shrug.

Despite the outcome of the Great Debate, regardless of how we think it should be, this year will bring, courtesy of Mother Nature, yet another new wave of Southern California refugees swarming into our Arizona cities and towns. These will be real people, not just flickering, late night images on CNN. And, along with the remains of their shaken lives, they will be bringing with them their wants and needs, their dreams and aspirations. They will be in search of a new place to call home, one without earthquakes, mud slides or race riots, a community in which to invest their assets, a place to spend the rest of their lives. They will also bring with them their talents, their ideas and their energies, all of which are unquestionably the most valuable of all natural resources, absolutely essential to any growing economy.

In response to this demand, we, as civilized people, regardless of how firmly entrenched we think we are in our respective positions on the great issues of our day, will first come to understand that there are indeed certain things over which we have no control. Surviving that humbling experience, we will then act responsibly and do the right thing. After all the dust has settled, we will simply adjust accordingly, and get on to the next debate.

PS: Want to see what things look like around here? Take a cyber-stroll thru any one of our four Galleries in the RIMages section of the site. Click the button and enjoy!