It Ain't All Tears, Ya Know
In fact, most of my life these days is pretty damn
joyous. Funny how the human mind, unencumbered by much hardship,
will make some up. I read somewhere, wish I could recall where, that
if someone is terribly unhappy, it means they have too few problems.
My first reaction was that this is a completely daft idea. But his
arguments did convince me to concede that, on occasion, having too few
problems can make you unhappy. I wouldn't say that all unhappiness
stems from it, but it's one possible cause.
So, maybe I have too few problems. After all,
I got a pretty decent roof over my head, the love of two brilliant (and
occasionally terrifying) children, a job that makes good use of my skills
and gives me adequate challenges, enough money to pay the bills with a
couple dinners out on the side, and this nifty neat-o puter. Oh,
and a beat-up lovable old truck.
I took some of my joy out on the truck yesterday
and today. Random bursts of orange spray paint. It's kind of
like an animal marking its turf, but also a way of saying, "Well, I guess
you are around to stay, and you are worth the time it takes me to personalize
you a little." The hood and the back of the driver mirror have cheerful
splotches of orange on them now, primarily on the rusty spots. I
more or less randomly chose the letters APN to stencil over the front driver
fender. Ultimately, the entire truck will be orange, but it needs
washing before I can do many of its muddy parts. Then I'll have to
decide what else to do with it. I think more cryptic characters in
black are called for.
I don't like using spray paint though. I don't
like how my finger pressing the sprayer top down gets paint all over it
somehow. I don't like how the breeze causes the paint to go where
I don't want it to go. I may have to brush paint the thing, but that
kind of texture isn't what I was going for. Well. I dunno.
Maybe...
Maybe it'll be alright. It's for goofing around
anyway. The thing is so rusted and ugly it really doesn't matter
how it turns out. Vomit and seagull splat would improve its appearance.
I bought a skateboard last week. Yeah, uh
huh, I know. I'm too old for that stuff and will prolly break a hip.
Actually I did bang the hell outta my knee. The Huz says I screwed
the patella, but I happen to know from palpitation that the patella itself
is perfectly fine. It's all them soft tissues under it. I have
a really gorgeous bruise, gargantuan in size and crescent in shape.
Truly it's hideous; I haven't been wearing skirts much lately.
The board is a beginner board, nothing remarkable
at all, except that it in no way resembles my last board. I date
from ancient times, when a skateboard had a discernible front edge and
back edge, when all the artwork was on the top, not the bottom.
I felt so proud that I could hop it up a curb onto a sidewalk. I'll
be proud when I can do it again.
As for the actual riding, I really haven't lost
much. This board is a lot stiffer than the last, forcing wide turns.
And my left turns just plain suck. But I can go without falling too
often, dammit, and I'm proud. Somewhere around at work I have a digital
pic of all my wheels: truck, board, and bike. Will have to dig it
out and post it up.
Today was a great day for flying. Well, almost
great, the wind was prolly a bit more than a pilot would call ideal.
The weather was clear and relatively hot, and the planes were coming and
going rather thickly. You don't always see planes lined up on the
taxiway waiting their turns. I saw a helicopter take off airplane
style; it whooshed right down the runway. That's something I'd never
seen before. Can't imagine the point of it.
So, too few problems. Maybe that's why the
Zach thing again, when I
thought I was over it. Maybe that's why I get the creeps in the house
and again wish I'd never seen the movie "Communion." Maybe that's
why I am quick to notice criticism. So, if I don't want some of these
self-made problems, maybe I gotta make or find some better ones.
We'll have to see what can be done about that.
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