Detours Onto Dead Ends

Reading: still reading Walden; (I only get about 20-30 minutes a day to read, so it can take a while) not too far into it yet, but so far, the general message seems to be: work is for suckers.

Listening to: Beastie Boys: Anthology, Sounds of Science...the Beasties are awesome. And, a rarity, in that they are a great multi-genre band (rap/punk).

Simple pleasure: watching and listening to birds in the garden.


This was going to be a post about my grandpa, and how religion, instead of bringing our family together, is rather putting a wedge in between us...but some stuff happened.

The cornerstone/centerpiece of the post was going to be an email, a typical example of the kind of born-again propoganda his wife (my newest grandma) sends to us, in chainmail form, on a regular basis. It was about a person who prayed before they left their house to go on a trip, and they get a flat tire on the way to the airport, thereby preventing them from boarding one of the planes that crashed into the WTC on 9/11. So, obviously, God saved these shmucks, while condemning all the others with plane tickets to death (I almost typed in 'die to death'...redundant?).

Unfortunately, I deleted the email. But, I thought, no big deal, she sends this crap to Sylvana and our kid, so I'll see if it's in their emails. Sylvana had already deleted it (but left others which I didn't need undeleted, for some reason), and our kid, Japan Deity, hadn't checked his email in so long that his account was suspended...damn kids. Then I come up with the idea of searching google for any mentions of an chain-email or story like that...and Google was down. Damn it, I have no other ideas to post on; I need this, Google! Why do you mock me?!?

It's like life is constructing barriers to keep me away from that subject. Things like this happen from time to time in our lives, and when it happens to me, I usually find that it's wise to slow down and observe what's going on. That, of course, is usually in hindsight, and after much foul language.

Many times when I'm doing something in a hurry, I'll just be crusing along, more concerned with finishing the project than in the process of the project itself, and something will happen, like I will keep dropping a bolt when trying to screw it into the hole, and I'll finally, after several attempts, get it into the hole, and for some reason it won't turn in. I pull the bolt out and notice it's stripped, and go search for another bolt, find one, bring it back to the work I was doing, proceed to drop it, just like the previous one...so frustrating! Finally, I contemptuously get it all screwed in, contemptuously laugh at and/or mock the bolt, ask it about it's family of origin (Who's your daddy, bitch?!? You never, NEVER fuck with me!!! You got that, bitch!?!), only to look down on the floor and notice there was a washer that I was supposed to put on along with the stupid bolt.

Now, if I had only taken a moment to stop obsessing about getting that damn bolt in and stepped back and looked at what was going on, I would have noticed the washer sitting there plain as day. The problem is that I find it so hard not to become emotionally involved in my work. I try to work on this, and I've been getting better, but it's a constant stuggle full of conflict and setbacks and yelling at inanimate objects.

Ah, Google is back up now. Looks like that email was a hoax (I figured as much)(Link in title). So maybe a flat tire is trying to tell you something, but it's probably something like 'you forgot to lock your front door' or 'you forgot your tickets' or 'you should really check your tire pressure more often' or something else more mundane than God saying he's got your back. You are not special, Flat Tire People, try to get your heads around that.

p.s. I'll do the grandpa post next time, bob out!