To take a break from all the ranting about stuff that upsets me (I do like things, I do, really), here’s an idle slice-of-life with the main purpose of not messaging a bunch of the same pictures to a bunch of different friends. And because, when one is as frugal as I tend to be, finally getting around to spending some money on nice things is cause for (minor) celebration.
It’s not that I’m cheap — at least I don’t think I am. I’m more than willing to spend plenty of money, but only on things that make sense to me. I don’t cut corners on vacations, for instance. They’re rare enough to be worth going all out; stay in a nice hotel; eat in nice places. But I have no urge towards getting the latest, greatest, fastest whatever. “Works for me,” is kind of a personal ethic.
Anyway, I finally bought a new dining room table set. And got a new driveway.
I’m a keeper and a collector, especially of sentimental mementos. My (these days declining) love of physical books is connected to this. It’s exactly why I’ve dragged dozens of boxes of them every place I live. (Bookshelves are a whole discussion!) And it’s also why I still have every love letter I’ve ever received.
Which, I’ve come to realize, is silly — especially now, when I’m seeking a simple, small life. My goal in retirement is minimalism in everything. Clearance! (Going out of business!) Everything must go!
Quite some time ago, a friend commented that I hadn’t put anything on my walls — that years later they were as blank as the day I moved in. They’re still blank, at least twice as many years later.
I should probably start by hastening to add: I don’t dislike dinosaurs, either! It’s an ambiguity of English that when one says, “I don’t like X,” it can mean one has negative feelings about the ‘X’ in question, or it can mean just that one has no positive feelings for it — that one is neutral (or perhaps not interested enough to have an opinion).
It’s an easy jump from “don’t like” to “dislike,” so the phrase, “I don’t like X,” is usually taken that way. But I have wiring in my brain that makes me see it more literally — as failing to have a liking for ‘X’ — so I often have to clarify what I mean.
And what I mean is that I have zero interest in dinosaurs.
It’s that time again, July 4th, a date that, for me, has multiple life events bound to it. The key one here is my blog’s anniversary. Now it’s seven!
I started it on July 4, 2011, a date I deliberately selected to — I hoped — add a positive life event to the mix (which most recently was my wedding anniversary for a marriage that lasted only four years). And, pretty much without qualification, it’s definitely been a positive experience! I’ve enjoyed the writing, and I hope it’s been entertaining, educational, and thoughtful. I’d like to think it has been. I’ve also met some great other bloggers along the way.
Oddly (and this wasn’t planned), it turns out I’ve written 700 posts here (this is #701). So there’s kind of a sevens thing going. Which is lucky, unlucky, or completely meaningless, depending on how you look at it.
And now the irony of the “Beginning of Summer” coinciding with the days starting to have less and less light. No sooner does summer begin when the system begins insuring its cyclic demise.
One tries not to take that as a statement of the human condition…
I’ve mentioned the Fermi Paradox here quite a number of times, but I’ve never made it the main topic of a post. Lately I’m becoming more and more convinced our world is facing a Great Filter, and that we may very well be seeing one answer to Mr. Fermi’s interesting paradox.
Which is a response to the Drake Equation, which I have made the topic of a post.
Essentially, the Drake Equation attempts to estimate the number of intelligent space-faring species in a galaxy and, by most accounts, comes up with a number noticeably larger than one. The Fermi Paradox says: Okay Mr. Drake… if so… where are all the aliens?
There’s really only one web comic I read anymore: xkcd. Randall Munroe continues to turn out thoughtful gems, and I really appreciate the ad-free nature of the site. I also find his What-If? series delightful; the first episode is one of my favorite interweb jewels!
But it’s his insight to the human condition and ability to nail a point with such brilliant brevity that I most relish. I value some of his comics as highly as I value favorite quotes; both are pithy petards against our myths and illusions.
So it’s been more than a year since my last post here. Because reasons; many reasons. One of them is that this is the 666th post on this blog, and that invokes my interests in symbolism, metaphor, and numerical shenanigans. Seems like I should “do” something in this one.
The Beast I’ve had in mind all year is that Obvious Monster a bunch of very angry, very stupid, and in some cases very evil, people connived (emphasis on “con”) into our POTUS. I’ve made my feelings very clear on that (in so many of my posts last year), so I’m not going to say (much) more in this one.
Instead, because it was a rich, full year, more of a personal recap.
What a god-awful, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year! For, oh, so many, many reasons:
My Minnesota Twins had the worst season in their franchise history (and now they will probably trade my favorite player, Brian Dozier); a whole bunch of people I cared about, or had some sort of ties to, died in 2016 (and many more I never knew and didn’t have ties to); there was that whole 2016 Presidential election thing (which was deeply awful on many counts, and who knows what will happen now); and let us not forget Syria or Flint, Michigan.
In fact, I’m not sure I can name one good thing about 2016. Except that, maybe, it’s finally over.
To take a break from all the ranting about stuff that upsets me (I do like things, I do, really), here’s an idle slice-of-life with the main purpose of not messaging a bunch of the same pictures to a bunch of different friends. And because, when one is as frugal as I tend to be, finally getting around to spending some money on nice things is cause for (minor) celebration.
I’m a keeper and a collector, especially of sentimental mementos. My (these days declining) love of physical books is connected to this. It’s exactly why I’ve dragged dozens of boxes of them every place I live. (Bookshelves are a whole discussion!) And it’s also why I still have every love letter I’ve ever received.
I should probably start by hastening to add: I don’t dislike dinosaurs, either! It’s an ambiguity of English that when one says, “I don’t like X,” it can mean one has negative feelings about the ‘X’ in question, or it can mean just that one has no positive feelings for it — that one is neutral (or perhaps not interested enough to have an opinion).
It’s that time again, July 4th, a date that, for me, has multiple life events bound to it. The key one here is my blog’s anniversary. Now it’s seven!
So it’s been more than a year since my last post here. Because reasons; many reasons. One of them is that this is the 666th post on this blog, and that invokes my interests in symbolism, metaphor, and numerical shenanigans. Seems like I should “do” something in this one.
What a god-awful, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year! For, oh, so many, many reasons:
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