Hi internet friends. Thursday night and I could use a little more week to get things done at work. But, were it offered, I’d turn it down.
Was a beautiful day today in Northern California. The air is still nippy, but with plenty of sunshine to warm your bones it seems more crisp than cool, and that makes me feel like we could be on the road to Spring. In fact, day by day, as the rains begin to break here in Sunny California, my brain is steadily considering the coming change of seasons and the spring and summer activities that come with them. Camping, for one thing, is something I’ve been daydreaming about lately. Back to the outdoors, this time with Keaton a little older and likely able to enjoy it a little more. I know she won’t be remembering trips for another couple summers, but I’ll still enjoy being able to see her get a little more out of them.
Please, will you bow with me?
Oh lord, we exalt Thee. Review time at the sawmill is over, and the joyous occasion calls for an endless celebration rich in fermented drink and empty carbs. There will be drunkenness and dancing, we’ll kill the fatted calve, and exchange fists in sport to the cheers of frenzied onlookers. We’ll raze buildings to the ground in a kind of tidal joy that peaks as unintended anarchy, but we’ll regret it in the morning. Women will part with clothing freely, and bed whomever smiles widest and has the strongest breath of wine. Legs will be parted and shouts will rise to Heaven, where you, Dear Lord, can look down on this bit of creation and know – review is over. And until that painful time strikes anew a year later, we’ll banish the memories to the corners of our minds. Thank you, Father, for your wise benevolence in quelling this torture, we give all praise unto you.
I was thinking today about how much I love elective methods of communication. Phone, e-mail, and instant-message; all these wonderful keep-in-touch tools are great for enhancing communication, making it more instant and available. But they possess an unsung virtue: The are all elective. Meaning, if I don’t want to respond to them, I don’t have to. As opposed to something like a knock at the door, running into someone while out and about, or someone popping into your office at the sawmill – I can simply choose to ignore them. Oh, and I do. When I don’t want to, I ignore all of them. Maybe it’s a jerk move, but to me it’s an exercise in personal freedoms.
Goodnight my friends.
Also written on this day...
- you take the hookers - 2005