If you want to make a
I was attempting to explain something very important to someone the other day. And, in the midst of my explanation, I realized that the person I was speaking with was not hearing anything past my first sentence.
But, of course, I kept talking.
There’s a fine edge between saying too little, and saying enough. I think that the era of text messaging has reduced a major portion of our population into those who can only digest 3 or 4 words at a time.
Perhaps using morse code would be more effective in a conversation, than anything that involves paragraphical communications.
People have mentioned to me, that I often repeat statements.
That’s probably because I’m a teacher, and I realize that people aren’t really listening to more than a few sentences at a time. Therefore, in case they didn’t hear my 4th sentence, I say it again.
And, sometimes again – later on.
But, in reference to the opening statement to this rant (as some would call it, because it continually re-defines my point more than once) I suppose I must concede to limit myself to words that are short, and easily defined.
Odd things are being noticed in my little town. People are driving through red lights, on a continual basis. I have witnessed this, more than once, in the last few weeks.
Somehow, they aren’t being killed by doing this. Nor are they killing anyone else.
Not in my presence, anyway.
Other people are getting so paranoid about this, that they are waiting longer than usual before going through intersections.
Our town is also attempting to rid itself of a slew of panhandlers that migrated here, from somewhere, a few years ago. They have posted city signs in the spots that panhandling has been popular, asking citizens not to encourage this behavior.
But, of course, the panhandlers have disregarded those signs, and continued their activity.
According to my understanding, the local Panhandler’s Union won their case at the Supreme Court, under the premise of “the right to pursue happiness.”
And, so they stand. Right under the city signs. With their cardboard placards.
And, we all sit at street corners, watching them.
Our eyes go from the city sign, to the panhandler, and back to the city sign – trying to make sense out of what we’re seeing.
I was told by my friend, the Monk, that I am probably going to Hell – because I’m not a Catholic anymore. In response, I sent him the photograph of the billboard that I posted the other day: We Were Created by an Alien Race.
He got angry, and told me that he “wished not to be disturbed by such rubbish.”
Honestly, I cared very little about his former comment, nor his definition of rubbish.
I started a new jazz composition the other day. I have come to realize that music is oxygen to me.
There’s no better way I can describe it.
In the meantime, it appears that we’re finally going to get some cold, winter weather – in a day or so.
The weather has been odd this year.
We had to turn the air conditioner back on, last night.
And, the heat got turned back on – soon thereafter.
Cold weather will be nice.
At least, some consistency.