Yea though I burn...
Last night I sat in Marietta Square and watched fireworks with my wife. There are a very few moments where things like national pride and political rhetoric actually take shape and color. There's something about the noisy togetherness of it all that makes one not so completely cynical for just a little bit.
But on the way home, I manage to find familiar ground.
In completely unrelated news, there has been a lot of death lately. Death of celebrities, death of family, death of friends. Death death death. My guess is, the closer you get to it, the more you become aware of it when it happens. It's not that no one dies when you are young, you just rarely get phased by it. You don't understand the inevitability of it yet. You can't really be afraid of something without properly understanding what it is. I suppose that is a good thing. To be honest, though, death isn't nearly as scary to me as life. Living well, not living well, succeeding, disappointing, hurting or helping--all these speculations can be a bitter porridge to ingest. Fortunately, we have things like alcohol and television to dull the receptors. I jest. Sort of.
At the end of the day, I'm grateful for the opportunity to wake up each morning and take responsibility for the crap I pull the day before. I'm grateful to have a conscience about the things I do and say. It doesn't necessarily stop any of the bad stuff from happening, but at least, when it does, I'm the one with the broom and dustpan cleaning up the debris and not sticking someone else with the duty. At least that's what I hope.
Finally, in less vague news, I ditched a road race yesterday and feel pretty good about it. I made the decision primarily because I had worked my body out too hard previously and felt that I would, at best, not enjoy the race and, at worst, injure myself. This was not the decision of a stubborn middle-aged man who can't accept his limitations. This was the wise choice of someone who wants to preserve his abilities and appendages well into the golden years. Now if I could just quell the occasional urge to freak dance...
But on the way home, I manage to find familiar ground.
In completely unrelated news, there has been a lot of death lately. Death of celebrities, death of family, death of friends. Death death death. My guess is, the closer you get to it, the more you become aware of it when it happens. It's not that no one dies when you are young, you just rarely get phased by it. You don't understand the inevitability of it yet. You can't really be afraid of something without properly understanding what it is. I suppose that is a good thing. To be honest, though, death isn't nearly as scary to me as life. Living well, not living well, succeeding, disappointing, hurting or helping--all these speculations can be a bitter porridge to ingest. Fortunately, we have things like alcohol and television to dull the receptors. I jest. Sort of.
At the end of the day, I'm grateful for the opportunity to wake up each morning and take responsibility for the crap I pull the day before. I'm grateful to have a conscience about the things I do and say. It doesn't necessarily stop any of the bad stuff from happening, but at least, when it does, I'm the one with the broom and dustpan cleaning up the debris and not sticking someone else with the duty. At least that's what I hope.
Finally, in less vague news, I ditched a road race yesterday and feel pretty good about it. I made the decision primarily because I had worked my body out too hard previously and felt that I would, at best, not enjoy the race and, at worst, injure myself. This was not the decision of a stubborn middle-aged man who can't accept his limitations. This was the wise choice of someone who wants to preserve his abilities and appendages well into the golden years. Now if I could just quell the occasional urge to freak dance...
posted by Master of None at 9:38 AM
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