I’m guessing that our view of Life is influenced greatly by
our particular vantage point. The folks
living on top of the mountain better understand the weather at the beach than
those living in the valley. From the
mountaintop one can easily see that this morning the beach is fogged in,
whereas those in the valley must rely upon second and third hand reports.
I have a very
simplistic view of Life. It is one that
leaves no room for television news reports, newspapers, etc. I tend to see my life as a beginning point, a
lengthy middle duration, and an ending point.
It is with that in mind that I opt to fill the middle section with only
good news, fun, friends, and as much laughter as possible. To fill the middle section with reports of
war, Man’s inhumanity to Man, murders, and mayhem seems a horrid waste of
time. I would sooner fill my days with
the demon Rum. But that’s a report for
another day.
Nurturing
news avoidance is a full time job as there are always those who can’t wait to
share some vile tidbit they have just come across. Of course I can’t recommend this lifestyle
as it does have its drawbacks. I am
often noticeably quiet at gatherings as others talk about current events, such
as they are.
I have tried
many times to abruptly redirect conversations.
Sometimes I’ll inject a humorous twist, hoping to break the dismal
chatter. Other times I approach it using
a one-ups-man ship technique, taunting each dreadful story with a tale more
hideous than the last, but obviously fabricated. Sometimes it works, and sometimes I get the
skunk-eye, suggesting that if I can’t contribute to the conversation, I should
just remain quiet.
So as you can
see, it is not all pastels and Bonbons.
The vantage point I have requires constant tending and tact.
My perch is
not a unique one for occasionally I’ll encounter another quiet soul at a
gathering. I immediately recognize the
facial expression. It is one of anguish. A fawn being forced to watch Bambie’s Mother
burn up in the cartoon forest fire, over and over again
So why have I
lit upon this branch? It was never a
choice. It is an internal part of my
makeup. It sits adjacent to my love for
all creatures, and next to, but falling a little short of understanding.
An odd topic
for this blog, but I think one that sheds a modicum of light on Zobostic
Corwin. After all, if you are to read
the blathering of a mental flibbertigibbet, it might serve you well to
understand the elevation from whence he blathers, and to note that on occasion,
he may be a little fogged in.
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