November 30, 2014 § 4 Comments
I am at the age of ponderousness.
The age of frivolousity (How’s my hair? Does my butt look fat in these jeans?) is over.
I cede those petty concerns to the unwrinkled.
I sit and I ponder, I walk and I ponder, I lie in bed and I ponder:
Does God ever roll his eyes and wish he’d rigged evolution in favor of some other, more deserving species?
Why (unless cake is involved) is “moist” the most reviled word in the English language?
Why are “smirk” and “cuddle” my personal least-favorite words (followed closely by “snuggle”). And why am I so okay with “moist?”
Why is “different” almost always synonymous with “bad?”
Why do so many people start their sentences with, “So…”?
Why are we robbing our children and grandchildren? “Here, take this old planet. Squeeze what you can out of it or throw it in the trash. Whatever; we’re done with it.”
Why doesn’t time make a whirring sound?
How can anyone cut down a living tree?
Why would angels even want to dance on the head of a pin?
Why do different body parts have such widely varying expiration dates?
How much stuff does a person really need?
Why do we believe only the news sources that justify our prejudices?
Why have we allowed righteous indignation to kick rational discourse to the curb?
Why do we buy canned pineapple? We are only going to let it sit on the shelf until the can gets those little rust spots.
Why are “to do” lists so terrifying?
Do clouds get a kick out of impersonating dragons and elephants or moments from the Old Testament when God is about to speak or smite?
How much content would be left after removing anything dog or cat-related from Facebook?
How does the gun in the bedside drawer not cause more anxiety than comfort?
Why would people rather stare at the tiny screen in their hand than talk to the person walking beside them?
And a related wonder: to get someone’s attention do you have to be absent and communicating with your thumbs?
Why do those with much want more, and those with little have to give it to them?
How is it that individual people behave pretty darned well, but collectively we are so monstrous?
Why is it that we can acknowledge we were attractive when looking at old photos of ourselves, but never when staring in the mirror?
Why do we feel worthless when not in motion, not doing something.
Why do we not learn from our pets the wisdom of the random nap?
Why are we here at all?
And why is it that some weeks I have a lightning bolt of an idea for a blog post and others (this one comes to mind) I just hope to dazzle with my virtuoustic verbosity.
Note: No genuinely ponderous post would be complete without a footnote. Unfortunately I don’t know how to make the small numbers you insert into text to indicate an impending footnote, so this footnote will have to take you by surprise.
- A Smooth, Highly Rational Voice, The Most Reviled Word in the English Language (National Public Radio, some date within the time horizon of my limited memory).