My musings have slowed to a crawl this spring as work loads have increased, bringing with them a spattering of writers block and a healthy amount of apathy for the current political and economic landscapes. Unlike some, my disdain for current events goes unspoken out of respect for my brethren who undoubtedly feel a connection to our current administration and a hatred for the former. As for me, in classic Willy Wonka form, I must say, “Strike that. Reverse it. This way, please!”
Dwelling on the deficiencies of society sucks the life out of my pen and renders me static and simple. It is a drivel that pokes and prods at the keypad like an uneven rain across an arid winter’s landscape. The prodding and poking fetch words from the mind like the frigid rain wrings dust from the prairie. The runoff, unfortunately, is mostly the same as the words and water fail to adequately appease the climates of men. Which, in turn, leads me to writer’s block and just a twinge of tomfoolery. “A little nonsense, now and then, is relished by the wisest men.” Or so they say!
The subjects of late have been fast and furious. I’ve contemplated “Awaiting the Why,” “Omitting the But,” and other politically incorrect topics I often ponder amid travels to and fro, ebb and flow. They wear on me like a suit of armor, uncomfortably but not without reason. They are the themes of my life and while many may object quite greatly I suppose, I develop these arguments inside and out and bounce them off the family dog; who looks at me sheepishly with that half-cocked head as to say, why me! It is Sam who reminds that “we are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams,” and “so shines a good (doggy) deed in a weary world.” Moving on!
I have learned that words can cut to the core but the same words carefully crafted can manipulate even the cleverest of adversaries. A medley, perhaps, of word like ingredients combined for a rich, undeniable flavor. A recipe of words, words that smack at first sight, softened so the ears can savor them without bias, words like immoral, entitled, unethical, judgmental, all brewed with just the right seasoning of the pen. Sometimes, however, the spice necessary to make the dish is a bit more harsh, words feathered in by those who fear not the indigestion of society. I have much respect for those who utter unspun truths regardless of reaction. If not for my fear of heights, I might dive into the batter with a thud and a th…wap! “There's no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going. There's no knowing where we're rowing. Or which way the river's flowing. Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a-blowing?” I’ll let you be the judge.
If tactful I could write of hard work and fitness, health food and welfare but I fear my tact is less and less while in clear sight of more and more. More and more processed food amidst an idle citizenry content to pilfer the community’s coffers demonstrating very little work ethic and increasingly poor health. Atop the soapbox on which I stand, the vantage point is clear, painful, and hard to justify. Why can’t we see hard work for the life shaping necessity for which it is, health food as the fuel to power the most intricate machine known to man, fitness to insure ones health, and welfare as man’s compassion for his brother, not a governmental program bent on keeping the poor enslaved to a mentality of inferiority. But my soapbox is shrinking now, as is yours, I surmise, filled with a smaller supply of a doubly potent soapy mix capable of cleaning the same volume of dirtiness. I guess that is good old American ingenuity but bad for those of us attempting to be seen and heard. The silence is thunderous yet “invention, my dear friends, is 93% perspiration, 6% electricity, 4% evaporation, and 2% butterscotch ripple.” Don’t forget the ripple!
Here’s hoping a healthy supply of butterscotch ripple to all who’ve made it this far. It really is too late to turn back. The next room, who knows, might expose an elevator capable of going “sideways, and slantways, and longways, and backways,” a fizzy lifting drink, or perhaps a logical assessment on a political landscape rooted in illogical and unacceptable institutions created by republicans and democrats alike. The politicians may never change but in this meandering of thought I can ensure you of one thing: “I promise you they'll be quite all right. When they leave here, they'll be completely restored to their normal, terrible old selves. But maybe they'll be a little bit wiser for the wear. Anyway, don't worry about them.” Exactly….Just a thought!
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