My computer had to go in for some work. I took it in on Sunday, the 21st, and did not get it back until Friday the 26th.
What did I DO for those days?
I read, I fretted, I tried to figure out what to do with myself without my adult, electronic -sitter.
How did I ever become so dependent on a machine?
I was lucky. I did not experience any symptoms of substance withdrawal. Perhaps that was because I knew that my drug of choice would soon be returned to me.
Or perhaps the fretting, the pacing, the wandering through rooms looking for SOMETHING to do WERE symptoms of withdrawal.
So, I must confess, I am a computer addict. Life without the internet is flat. The internet gives depth and texture to me.
YEACH!!!!!!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Plus que ca change, plus que c'est le meme chose
"The more things change, the more they stay the same"
Over dinner tonite, my friend and I were talking about some of the expectations we had regarding our retirements and moving to a new state.
I suddenly had a flash-back to something I had read in either junior high school or my first year of high school. I was reading a publication of the best writing of high school students of some time in the late 1960's.
There was one story that dealt with guys riding in box cars, looking for work, and telling some kid to jump off on a curve near a certain town. The curve was too fast for a person to jump off and not receive serious injury. The "old-timers" were setting a possible death sentence for the rookie.
Another story, which was recalled to my memory immediately, dealt with a young man moving from the south to the north. The man's race was never mentioned. The northern city was never mentioned. The theme was that the same term was addressed to the young man in both cities. He had move north, hoping for a better life, and found that he was still called by the same term.
My friend and I are hetro-sexual, anglo-saxons. We are NOT any type of minority, any type of 'oppressed' group. We both thougt life would be different here. Somehow, we both thought that HERE, there would be more people who thought before they spoke, who valued knowledge over degrees, who would ENCOURAGE independent thought rather than embracing sameness.
Tonight, we laughed over our naivite. No place is any different than any other. Walden II does not exist. People ARE people the world over. In China, in Antartica, we would find people who think they are better than we are (perhaps because they REFUSE to think) Some of them (probably the ones in Antartica) WOULD be better (or at least smarter) than us. Some of them would not be smarter or better, and some of them would be the same, yet different.
I need to embrace a world in which there are people I believe are absolute f**king morons. And I need to accept their right to exist in this world, even if I think they are wasting valuable atoms of oxygen.
Over dinner tonite, my friend and I were talking about some of the expectations we had regarding our retirements and moving to a new state.
I suddenly had a flash-back to something I had read in either junior high school or my first year of high school. I was reading a publication of the best writing of high school students of some time in the late 1960's.
There was one story that dealt with guys riding in box cars, looking for work, and telling some kid to jump off on a curve near a certain town. The curve was too fast for a person to jump off and not receive serious injury. The "old-timers" were setting a possible death sentence for the rookie.
Another story, which was recalled to my memory immediately, dealt with a young man moving from the south to the north. The man's race was never mentioned. The northern city was never mentioned. The theme was that the same term was addressed to the young man in both cities. He had move north, hoping for a better life, and found that he was still called by the same term.
My friend and I are hetro-sexual, anglo-saxons. We are NOT any type of minority, any type of 'oppressed' group. We both thougt life would be different here. Somehow, we both thought that HERE, there would be more people who thought before they spoke, who valued knowledge over degrees, who would ENCOURAGE independent thought rather than embracing sameness.
Tonight, we laughed over our naivite. No place is any different than any other. Walden II does not exist. People ARE people the world over. In China, in Antartica, we would find people who think they are better than we are (perhaps because they REFUSE to think) Some of them (probably the ones in Antartica) WOULD be better (or at least smarter) than us. Some of them would not be smarter or better, and some of them would be the same, yet different.
I need to embrace a world in which there are people I believe are absolute f**king morons. And I need to accept their right to exist in this world, even if I think they are wasting valuable atoms of oxygen.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Sad Thoughts
Normally, I love flowers. I usually buy them everytime I go to the grocery store. Sometimes I splurge and go to the local florest and buy myself something special.
Today, I did NOT like buying flowers.
I bought them for a friend's funeral.
Marcella, I wish I that THOUGHT and sent you flowers while you were alive.
You were a very special, a very dear friend. You weren't just my friend. Everyone who came into contact with you loved you.
Your smile, your laugh, they could light up an entire room.
You were down-to-earth, practical, sensible and funny. You had such a big heart. Perhaps it wore out early because you kept it so open to everyone.
Perhaps today, on some golf course in heaven, you are playing again with Bernie, Helen and the other ladies of the 9-hole association.
On the card with the flowers, it says "We miss you"
I miss you Marcella. You were someone I could always talk to, somone who put up with me regardless of how I acted.
Flowers are not enough. They would not have been enough when you were alive to let you know how much you meant to me.
Goodbye, Marcella. Many people miss you and we all wish we had told you more often that we loved you. Goodbye.
Today, I did NOT like buying flowers.
I bought them for a friend's funeral.
Marcella, I wish I that THOUGHT and sent you flowers while you were alive.
You were a very special, a very dear friend. You weren't just my friend. Everyone who came into contact with you loved you.
Your smile, your laugh, they could light up an entire room.
You were down-to-earth, practical, sensible and funny. You had such a big heart. Perhaps it wore out early because you kept it so open to everyone.
Perhaps today, on some golf course in heaven, you are playing again with Bernie, Helen and the other ladies of the 9-hole association.
On the card with the flowers, it says "We miss you"
I miss you Marcella. You were someone I could always talk to, somone who put up with me regardless of how I acted.
Flowers are not enough. They would not have been enough when you were alive to let you know how much you meant to me.
Goodbye, Marcella. Many people miss you and we all wish we had told you more often that we loved you. Goodbye.
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