Just a little more than usual
With intentionality, and somehow sticking with it long enough for it to become an un-missable part of my week. I’m not a fitness junkie, but I do recognize the importance of movement and flexibility.
It’s probably time I tried to get back into going to the Y. I had stopped doing that when we had a ridiculously long stretch of snowy, cold weather this past winter, and it became easy to generate excuses for not venturing outside. How sad is that?
They’re called classics for a reason, so far be it for me to take a shot at one of them. I haven’t read many of this genre, but among the ones I have read, I’d say 1984— only because Orwell was off on the date by 40 years. Otherwise, it seems we may be well on our way to the dystopian tone and feel he was describing, especially now that what’s-his-name was re-elected in 2024 and has resumed his derelict reign, and AI is causing people some anxiety.
This feels like a broad topic, and I almost immediately started thinking about some overrated people in history. The current U.S. President came to mind rather quickly.
But underrated? This isn’t a category to which is usually given much thought. I did Google it and found some entries, but on my own, I’m having trouble thinking of anyone. Political figures are an easy target, and very subjective when it comes to opinions about them. Certain athletes might come to mind, maybe teachers we’ve had, or friends and family who don’t realize the difference they’ve made in others’ lives.
In general, and given the current political climate in which we find ourselves, I’m gonna go with teachers, community activists, medical researchers, meteorologists, scientists, and other previously critical personnel and programs whose jobs and functions have been axed by f#!*ing DOGE.
I wouldn’t know, and it’s not because we live an extravagant or unbounded lifestyle. It’s just that we’ve never committed wholesale to a minimalist mindset, except maybe in limited ways– like reducing clutter, focusing on time spent with family, and being more cognizant of the difference between needs and wants.
On the other hand, maybe we’ve bought into it more than we realize. My wife more so than me, though. I think it’s something that may make more sense as one grows older, as one gets out in the world and engages life with eyes opened, and at some point just realizes that endless acquisition and keeping up with the Joneses is a selfish, exhausting, and shallow pursuit.
I’m racking my brain and nothing is coming to mind. There were certain things I treasured, I guess– my baseball glove, my bike. I used to like going out in our back yard to smash rocks– to see what they looked like on the inside.
As an older kid, through the high school years, I couldn’t wait to get home from school and down to the pond to skate. So, hockey equipment became a bit of an obsession for awhile, even though I was limited in what I could get. I used to love going to the local hockey shop and picking up a new stick, maybe a puck or a roll of tape. I would drool over a pair of CCM Tacks, which were always out of reach. I did get a nice pair of Bauer Black Panthers, though, which served me well even into college.
Chicken and waffles– pulled chicken, with gravy, over waffles and mashed potatoes, with sides of corn and green beans and maybe pickled cabbage that approximates coleslaw, with homemade pies and cakes as options for dessert. It is a complete gustatory wonder. And very filling. I had never heard of such a thing until we moved to PA, maybe northeastern PA.
A local church or other group is often holding a supper as a fundraiser, so it works out well: we’re supporting a local organization, and we don’t have to fuss over what to have for the evening meal. Though, it might make more sense, health-wise, to have it earlier in the day.
I haven’t been to one in a while. Of the few we’ve managed to attend, I guess it would be between Chicago, on Boston Common, and Itzhak Perlman, at Mechanics Hall in Worcester, MA.
The nearest cities are 25 minutes east of here and less than an hour’s drive north of us, where a person can shop and eat, buy a car or truck or other vehicle, get decent healthcare, check out a book, worship, play 18 holes of golf, dive into the local history that’s tied up in coal mining, take a walk or a bike ride along a major river, and then head into the hills that surround these urban areas to get away from it all. The landscape has character.
I actually live in a township, bordering a borough (they don’t call them towns in PA, except for Bloomsburg) that historically was a major outpost for tank and ammunition production during WWII, along with manufacturing of certain clothing items. And cigars. The local high school football team had a reputation not long ago for being one of the best in the country. They’ve since come back to earth a bit.
This area is also nestled into the ridges one sees on some maps of Pennsylvania, along the same major river, making for some dramatic landscapes. It’s growing on me, as we’ve lived here off and on for over 30 years. Rolling hills, hollows, scenic vistas up and down the river, farmland, fishing, golf, a few good places to eat, active youth athletics, and a group of leaders and civic-minded individuals who want the area to thrive.
Since I can only have one, it might be elemental manipulation. A region needs rain? Coming right up. Another needs a break from sub-zero cold or endless high temperatures? Break out your shorts and margaritas or bundle up. Of course, such drastic reversals would probably generate their own adverse effects, but maybe the power is so complete that I can maintain a healthy balance.
Great question, but the only thing coming to mind is always wishing for clarity when it came to what I should do with my life. I still feel like I missed some hints, missed out on a moment when things crystallized, and revelation provided a path forward with regard to the work I should occupy myself with in order to make a living.
I did end up as an ordained Lutheran pastor for 26 years, but never really felt comfortable in that position, like this was my “destiny,” even though others gave me affirmation along the way and told me this was where I needed to be. Instead, I often found myself wishing some other direction was taken, some other door had opened, because most days I felt like a fish out of water.
I wish I could have been like the folks who somehow “know” from early on that they will be a doctor, or an athlete, or a musician. I never had that clarity, or a sense of assurance that I was where I was supposed to be. But maybe that’s more rare than it’s made out to be. Maybe that’s not how it works, anyway.
Maybe it’s more about following a dream and putting in the work.
Now that I’ve been writing for a while, I realize that life itself is often a mystery to me. Why are we here? Since we have the wherewithal to ask that question, it’d be nice to have an answer that satisfies, that stops in its tracks this endless inquiry.
3 Cents' 