One of the bloggers I follow recently made his 400th post while I am slowly making my way towards my 100th post. No, I’m not there yet. Conservative estimates put that milestone at sometime in the coming weeks. Kudos to Edward Hotspur, he of the 400 plus posts! I’m just slightly behind him, though we started blogging around the same time.
This got me thinking. Many bloggers write every day. And they have jobs, though not necessarily writing jobs, and not the kind of jobs where you sit around your house in your pajamas and fuzzy slippers. No, they have to get up, get dressed and drive somewhere and then sit around. So what’s my excuse? It’s certainly not the job thing, though I do occasionally sit around my house in what could be described as pajamas though no fuzzy slippers because I don’t own fuzzy slippers. I think my feet would get too hot in fuzzy slippers.
Then before I could answer the what’s my excuse question I started wondering what happens when people stop writing. Some of the bloggers I was following just up and stopped writing. A few of them hinted that maybe there’s something going on in their personal lives that they needed to deal with, but others don’t do that. They just stopped writing. And I wonder why. I wonder if maybe they are in the hospital or maybe they died or maybe they are in jail or maybe homeless or maybe they just ran out of things to say. I also wonder if I should contact them and say “Hey, I miss reading your posts,” but that seems intrusive because I really don’t know them even though it feels like I do. And if they did stop writing because they ran out of things to say, it might be embarrassing to them if I let them know I noticed they stopped writing.
Then I noticed the squirrels that were chasing each other around the tree in the back yard because I am the dog from the movie Up – SQUIRREL! I don’t know where I was going with that train of thought, not the squirrel thing, but the other two paragraphs, so I’ll hop off that train and hop on another train like a hobo on a cross country trip to nowhere and talk about heaven and hell
Heaven and hell, not that I really believe in heaven and hell although it sounds nice, at least the heaven part, until you really start thinking about it and you realized that all of the truly interesting and fun people won’t be there. They’ll be in hell and if hell does have all of the truly interesting and fun people then it’s probably more like heaven. How bad could it be? After all, a famous existentialist once said that hell is other people. he even wrote a play about it. So if you’re surrounded by interesting and fun people, then it must be more like heaven.
But like I said, I’m not really sure I believe in all of that. But it’s okay if you do because what makes the world an interesting place is that people have different opinions and there are lots of choices. I don’t know why we can’t just leave it at that. Why do some people have to try so hard to convince everyone else to believe exactly the way they do? The world would be so dull, but that’s what many people seem to want. They want a Stepford world where everyone looks the same and thinks the same. That sounds awful. Now, that would be hell.
I like that there are differences of opinions about everything and lots of choices, although sometimes the choices can be overwhelming. When I’m in the grocery store, there are way too many choices about everything from toilet paper to cranberry juice to flavors of ice cream. It can be a little overwhelming and yet I much prefer that to having just one choice because one choice isn’t really a choice, it’s just the only way to go.
There’s always got to be a different way to go. You can take the more traveled path or, as one poet once urged us to do, you can take the less traveled path. That’s always the more interesting one. It’s fun to travel and even to take tours sometimes. They hit the high points. But it’s more interesting to go off on your own, maybe get lost and talk to shopkeepers and find out about this very cool walled walk around the city that’s not mentioned in any of the guidebooks, but a shopkeeper told us about it, so we did it. And it was wonderful. There were spectacular views of the city and the lake. I’m talking about Lucerne, Switzerland in case anybody ever finds themselves there. Do the tower walk.
Once again, I seem to have digressed tangentially or perhaps diametrically. I was talking about heaven and earth and choices and how some people seem to want to take choices away and have everyone be just like them. They seem to want to tell people how to live. But does this extend to the bedroom and sex or whatever room you choose to have sex in? Do they only want us to have one choice about that? And would that choice be plain vanilla, though I feel bad for vanilla as it gets a bad rap even though it is an exquisitely delicate and nuanced flavor. But sometimes you’re not in the mood for vanilla. Sometimes you’re in the mood for butter pecan ice cream with warm caramel sauce and whipped cream and chopped nuts fed to you with a spoon while you’re blindfolded. Yeah, I’d much rather have those kinds of choices.