“Why do blogs dedicated to hating a person get hundreds of comments supporting that hatred and blogs that entertain, uplift and share life get so few?”
Someone asked the question, out loud and with palpable pain. It is a good question, and one that has been festering at the back of my mind for a few years now. Is it really only hatred, ugliness, negativity and rancor that draws readers in? I wonder.
It’s not that I’m all that concerned with all the research that proves we are far more distracted, distracted enough to drive erratically, if we drive while talking on a cell phone. And I don’t think we needed research to prove that texting while driving is just plain stupid.
No, that all doesn’t bother me because, I admit, I’m not the most coordinated or capable of much multi-tasking at all.
I've never been able to talk on the phone and do something else. I can’t watch TV while on the phone – I can only listen to one thing at a time. I can’t read while talking on the phone. I can’t talk on the phone and do anything else that requires 1) thinking, 2) listening, or 3) talking back.
A thousand times, it seems, I’ve sat down to write my thoughts about abortion and have deleted every one. Why?
The first reason is the most obvious: It is a personal choice.
The second reason is more covert, and one that I will ask with a question:
Would a woman who chose to have artificial insemination then choose to have an abortion?
No, I don’t think so.
The whole political quagmire that surrounds the issue of abortion comes from the problem of unwanted pregnancies that result from a man and a woman having sex.
It’s no surprise; it’s here. The eyeballs burning behind the eyelids, the heat originating under the tongue to singe the roof of the mouth, the aches in the joints, neck and chest. All it took was a catalyst, an emotionally charged moment that launched a day’s worth of introspection, to break down the final defenses that had been keeping the bug at bay. With the bug comes all the freed emotions that eventually led me back to a profound memory. Get comfortable. It’s going to take awhile to tell…
“The Big Fish in the Small Pond” is the title he gave himself, though for the most part, while we played, the inflated sense of self melted away to expose that he really was an exceptionally talented lead guitarist. But, this night, we had an audience of musicians and all the fluff and struts came back out in force. He strutted away for the first tune of the third set, a tune the bass player sang, something fast and superficial and fun.
The visiting musicians hovered together in the illumination of the entranceway into the large, smoky, packed barroom. I didn’t know them, but it was easy to tell they were the visiting band. Their hair was long, jeans too tight, voices too loud in a too loud room. They were the “popular” band around town, and they stopped in to see us on their night off. Oh, the guitarist had on his strut. I knew what he was thinking: They may be popular, but we’re the band playing every night.
I used to love the first day of school, way back in the Stone Age when I was in grade school. The first day of school meant getting a stack of new books that would be mine for the school year. Oh, how I loved my books! It was especially great when the teacher handed out brand new, never-before-used books to us. The pages were pearly white and never separated, the cover all shiny and undented, and the aroma of ink and pulp would tickle the nose. Ah, it was heaven!
Always, the teacher would launch into a litany about how sacred books were. We must care for them with our lives. We must never write on them or let our dogs chew on them. Or else! They all had to be taken home and covered that first night, no ifs, ands or buts about it.
What may be the stupidest question I’ve ever asked, I asked yesterday while enjoying a pleasant meal with friends: “Just what, exactly, does the government do?” It must not have been that stupid a question because the only reply I got was, “Well, they fix the roads, maintain our, you know, infrastructure.” Ironically, no one thought of anything more, so the conversation quickly moved on to something else entirely.
So, on to the trusted source of all information, Wikipedia. It’s definition of government is this:
…government is composed of a specialized and privileged body of individuals, who monopolize political decision-making, and are separated by status and organization from the population as a whole. Their function is to enforce existing laws, legislate new ones, and arbitrate conflicts via their monopoly on violence.That’s what I thought. It’s a spoiled bunch of privileged brats who are too good for the rest of us to play in our sandbox that is our day-to-day life. And, by the way, they have the monopoly on violence. With a definition of “government” like that, it’s no wonder that some throw their hat in with anarchists.
It’s the subtle things that make the day. Have you ever noticed that?
For instance, yesterday, it was the snow storm of all snow storms here in Arkansas. Snowpocolypse, Snowmageddon, they were calling it, and parts of the state were buried under close to two feet of snow. That’s a bad enough storm to be considered bad anywhere in the US. Around here, in north central Arkansas, half a foot fell, and that was enough to shut the whole area down completely.
D’ya think it will ever melt?
I ask the same question every year. It’s cabin fever deluxe. It’s limbo. It’s waiting in the check-out line at Walmart. Will it ever melt? Sure it will. But it’s still limbo. Harrumph. I get antsy, impatient, sick of stuck. The choices are clear: sit and moan, or do something.
So, I did. I sat and moaned awhile. It seems a necessary thing to do, just to put things in perspective. That cloudy, gray perspective is dull and boring and draining. It’s not a nice place to be. The next step is, do something, which I did. Dull and boring is a pretty safe place to be, so doing something takes some courage.
What did I do? I applied for a new job.
What is Seasonal Affective Disorder?
If you’re anything like me, this winter is starting to get on your nerves and get you down. As the season drags on, you wonder if you’ll ever feel “up” again. You could have a form of depression called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), commonly called "Cabin Fever" or "Winter Blues". Research supports the causes of SAD to be an interruption of your body's internal clock, melatonin production increase, and a drop in the production of serotonin. SAD symptoms will start as soon as it becomes colder and the days shorter, but you might not have noticed them with all the demands of the holiday season going on. Here is a list of what to watch for: