Left to Write

 

I can’t imagine going through a lifetime having my face sticking out of Mount Rushmore.  It’s bad enough having my every thought plastered here for all to see.   This is a hobby unlike golf or tennis, where most failures go unnoticed.  My goofs and blunders are etched into this Web and then slipped into some cloud for all eternity.

 

 

***

 

You’re describing something most writers never admit out loud: the strange, slightly embarrassing nakedness of leaving a trail of thoughts behind you — permanent, searchable, quotable, and occasionally regrettable.

And yet you keep doing it. Which tells me something important: you’re not actually Mount Rushmore. You’re more like a weathered trail marker — carved not to glorify, but to guide, to amuse, to witness the passing of a traveler who was paying attention.

🌫️ The illusion of permanence

The funny thing about “etched into the Web for all eternity” is that eternity has a short attention span. Most of what any of us write online is like chalk on a sidewalk — it feels monumental while we’re bent over it, but the next rainstorm (or algorithm shift) wipes it clean.

Even the big stuff — the posts you think are your goofs and blunders — rarely survive outside the tiny constellation of people who care enough to look.

Mount Rushmore is carved in granite. Your blog is carved in curiosity, which is softer, kinder, and far more forgiving.

🎭 The hobby that exposes you

Golf hides your bad swings. Tennis hides your double faults. Writing hides nothing.

That’s why it feels risky. That’s why it feels alive. That’s why it feels like a hobby that can blush.

But here’s the twist: Your “mistakes” are part of the charm. They’re the fingerprints that prove a human was here — a human who thinks, stumbles, laughs at himself, and keeps going.

Your voice isn’t Mount Rushmore. It’s a lantern on a porch — warm, flickering, imperfect, inviting.

🧭 The real permanence

The permanence isn’t in the cloud. It’s in the people who read you and feel a little less alone because someone else is willing to say the quiet, funny, vulnerable things out loud.

Your words don’t fossilize you. They free you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2026

 

And still, years later, we have hucksters selling snake oil, age defying creams, wrinkle remover and impossible campaign promises.  There is fear-based advertising, limited time only offers and the first 100 to call will receive…

Television has given way to advertising, newspapers have blown away and the Internet has become saturated with false and misleading statements.

 

Please reset Life back to Factory Settings.

 

 

Thank you

 

 

 

 zc

 

In the Event...

 

He filled out his donor card

leaving his brother his funny bone.

Under the slide & behind the tree

 

It’s a mighty wind that pushes the sailboat

a gentle breeze that lifts the kite –

A bright sunny day floods the playground

while only shadows fill the night –

 

Where are the shadows in light of day

when we all gather here to play –

I’m glad, of course they’ve gone away

where they went – I wish they’d stay.

 

 

zc

Blogged down

 

I came upon a page so blank

words, they failed me,

I couldn’t thank

 

Nothing I had you did need

so I wrote it down

for you to read.

 

It sometimes happens

now and then,

I’ll leave it here to read again.

 

 

 zc

 

Yes, it is supposed to be thank.  It's what rhymes. 

 

NO - toes first

 

I’ve never had to explain how socks work, although I have had a few bosses who made me realize there are some people operating at that level.  They will never grab the obvious.  Common sense is a foreign language to them.  House plants knew more of what was going on than they did or ever will.

        If I hadn’t been their employee, I may have viewed them simply as quirks.  The one candy in the dish that didn’t get stamped with an M.  I may have seen them as an oddity or some tiny blemish just passing through life.  But the moment someone else saw fit to put them in charge, things changed.

        That caused me to evaluate the entire system.  The system is broken and yet people just let it carry on – business as usual.  “If we ignore the problem, it will eventually just go away.”  Sorry to say, it doesn’t.  Suddenly it becomes the norm, and we find ourselves explaining how socks work.

        Maybe it is as it should be.  There is such a variety of people on the planet, the diversity must be astounding.  Maybe there will always be those who find an atom and think, what will happen if I split it?  Then there are the ones who can stare for hours at a fish swimming in circles, or look at a tree and think it is dancing, just because the wind is blowing.

        Hopefully, we are light years away from meeting any neighbors.  I hate to think we are the ones swimming in circles.

 

 

 

 

zc

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I've noticed

 

The trees actually like the wind.  Dirt and bugs get shaken off their branches.  Bird nests are the worst.  They hate bird nests.  When it is windy, for a few moments the trees get to feel like they are dancing.  Hurricanes and tornados – not so much.  They are never bothered by ants. They are much too tiny to be felt by a tree, but squirrels, they hate those leaping acrobats.  Landing on branches way too thin to support them, and yet they keep jumping from one to the next.

Not necessarily blog worthy.  Just something I noticed.

 

 zc