Honestly…

More often than not I’m an honest person, and maybe a bit too honest at that. There are plenty of times where I can be thoroughly exhausted by form and diplomacy and simply spit out the thoughts in my head. Naturally, people get offended. Sometimes it’s rightfully so, and other times they’re just being too sensitive. It’s never the same reason every time, however I’m just too tired to care.

There are perks of being honest though. Much of my life has been filled with observations of cheating paying off, whether it’s cheating on tests, or a spouse (not my story to tell, but an interesting one nonetheless), what have you. There is a budding culture of “it’s not wrong, if you’re not caught.” I abhor this belief I see in my contemporaries. I’m not perfect, but I keep a good handle on things.

For example, yesterday included a trip to the bank. As I rolled up to the drive-through window, my eyes caught a glimpse of something flat, green, and rectangular. Backing up, I open the door to find a $20 bill lying on the ground. Being so close to the bank teller window, it’s obvious it was part of a transaction. No one would be out of their car to drop their purse or wallet. So, what do I do? I pick the money up and give it to the teller. I explained it was probably part of someone’s deposit.

With this information, she turns around to another teller. The speakers were off, and I couldn’t hear what she said to him. What I did see was the other teller frown and swipe the money from her hands and her laughing. I think I follow what happened only a few moments before my arrival. From the teller’s face, I could surmise there was a rather nasty dispute over the lost currency. It wouldn’t have been his fault, but people get nasty over money for some reason. 😉

Did I expect anything out of the deal? Nope. In fact, I knew I probably wouldn’t even get a thank you out of it. A rarity anymore is a mannered teller. However, I think I did find something of value in the whole ordeal. I righted a wrong. Not only did I spare him the headache of having to defend himself in the future, he has some vindication for when that person comes around next time. It’s a popular branch, and I think they’d be back. I don’t believe in karma, but this is a random act of kindness. This is the stuff I do, and it’s hard sometimes when it goes unnoticed. I suppose I won’t let it stop me from doing it in the future though.

So, would you pocket the money and not say a thing or would you hand it to the teller like I did? Twenty dollars will buy a nice dinner out with tip. It’s nothing to sneeze at. I can also hate the sin and not the sinner on this one, as it’s just part of my “control freakishness” (or so society declares :eye roll:). I’m not looking to browbeat anyone on this. I’m genuinely curious to see if others would keep it.

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A Flying Chair in the Sky

I realized yesterday I left myself a note of sorts to write an entry about Louis C.K. Understandably, the title is a non sequitur to anyone but me. I shall explain.

There is a popular comedian named Louis C.K. who has the typical routine of making people out for stupid. Much of comedy is made at the expense of others. This is nothing new. One of my favorites, Lewis Black, is notorious for these bits. I’ve been a fan ever since his IHOP sketch. Whenever I watch Louis, though, I have an intrusive thought: I want to slap his head like a buzzer from Family Feud. It’s not to be critical of his work, rather it’s the first thought that enters my head. If only he made this noise, when I did.

Louis has a routine about how everything’s amazing and no one’s happy. He goes on to talk about how we take everything for granted. Of course, everyone in the crowd claps like a seal at Sea World. Comedy often comes in half-truths, otherwise the comedian/comedienne couldn’t bend the everyday observation to suit his or her needs. That’s what it really boils down to: taking an ordinary observation and tilting it on its side for laughs.

Part of this tirade is about flying, and how we should all be hooting and hollering about “being in a chair in the sky.” Why, yes, Louis. We should all throw a party every time a flight happens. Never mind the less than great TSA treatment, or dwindling perks (i.e. paying $25 for the first piece of checked luggage), or the outrageous food prices. No, none of that’s important, as we’re supposed to be happy little zombies shuffling this way and that. Do what you’re told. Take what you’re given. Stay in line. Consume and obey.

In practical terms, just how long do we need to keep a super-enthusiastic-oh-my-God-this-is-tremendous attitude about technology? I can agree satellite communications are still fairly recent, but flight?! That’s generations old! What about fire? Should we get hung up over every advancement like a bunch of rubes? Well, GO-O-O-LLLY, that sure is a mighty fine improvement you got thar with your heat source and all. Come on now. Maybe I should stare longingly at my toilet and write it a poem to, you know, show it my utmost gratitude?

Do you really want to know why people aren’t happy, Louis, even with this “mind-blowing” technology? It’s because people can’t treat each other well, Louis. It has been that way for a long time. In my lifetime, I might be able to fly to Asia in a blink of an eye. If I’m not treated well there, why should I be happy about it? It’s the intangible things, Louis, that have a grip on our attitudes. Maybe we should work on that first and then complain about the lack of appreciation later?

Apology to a Night

Of all nature, a human’s is irksome.

The fussy child of Earth’s creation,

Wants for something but serves her little.

Inexperienced in appreciation.

Whether ignored for subtlety or forgotten in haste,

Distractions by the trivial and fleeting,

Leave time a taciturn teacher,

To lecture the deeds of quiet benevolence.

This midnight mantle, now my headrest,

Shows me kindness unannounced.

Shrouded winds upon my face,

Are tender kisses I never knew.

O! How wretched I feel,

With this prolonged ignorance.

For if no one has ever told you,

Surely I must beg your pardon.

© 2013 by Corvidae in the Fields, all rights reserved

Living in the Moment (when you remember to do so)

As much as I hate wasting a Friday night on sleeping, I unintentionally slept through it. The night before had me up until 4:30 in the morning, and it ruined my rest. This may have turned out to my benefit though. After my morning breakfast of scrambled eggs and Coke (forgot I had coffee at the time), I was fiddling around in my “home office.” It’s not really an office by my standards. It has a filing cabinet, a laptop, and a desk. I’m sure some would be content with that, but I believe there’s a certain je ne cais quoi that bestows a spare bedroom with the true feel of an office.

Regardless, it was just before daybreak and I came to the realization I never watched the sun rise in my house. Granted it has only been eight months since I purchased it, and six of those months were spent remodeling but it never occurred to me to stop what I was doing and watch the sun rise. My office window is, more or less, facing east and it doesn’t require me to move much further than a foot to my right to peer out. Fortunately, I’m tall enough to watch out the window while seated.

Today seemed like the perfect opportunity to remedy my “problem.” I brewed a cup of joe, and returned just in time for the main event. While I tried not staring directly at it like an idiot, the sun appeared as a squashed tangerine, oozing out through the branches of my neighbor’s maple across the way. That was a neat optical illusion, when it didn’t feel uncomfortable. The rest of the sky was lit up with an array of blues, pinks, and yellows. It was well worth the moment to see it.

It’s early Saturday morning, and no one’s stirring in the neighborhood yet. The only activity I see is from the birds. There are a lot of common grackles around here, and one is precariously perched at the top of my pine tree. The branch is pointed skyward, and the bird is bobbing up and down frequently. I’d laugh if the branch broke. Others birds, like mourning doves and seagulls are busy going about their business. The grackles are the ones screwing around.

For it being late March, there is still frost on everything. Car windows, grass, and even roofs are glistening and twinkling like little glass figurines on display. Also I’ve noticed frost to make everything feel frozen in time. Maybe that’s due to the concept of temperature and freezing? Maybe I’m just being a sappy idiot? The latter. I’m thinking it’s the latter.

The last thing I noticed is how the houses are aligned. Even though there are buds on the trees, the view is fairly unobstructed. Eastward from my house is a “T” intersection, and I can follow the path of the street merely by viewing the tops of the houses. It speaks of development planning. It’s almost as if the road decided where the houses should be built. I’d think it more refreshing if it were the other way around. However, that’s less controllable. We need MORE control, don’t we? Always do. We need to control every single detail of our life and everyone else’s too. That’s what governance is for! We need to control people to the point of suffocation. Would our lives be any worse, if we just stopped trying to micromanage everyone and everything? I genuinely doubt it.

Now the sun is up past the trees and as bright as it likes to be. That’s quite enough, friend. I’ve enjoyed your company long enough. You just wait until I have enough money to buy proper curtains!