Politics can be boring

I’ve started this one and stopped many times since 2018. Now, I guess, seems like a good time to say it.

I want politics to be boring again. Yes, they can be important and still be boring. No one tunes in to C-SPAN for riveting drama. At least, we shouldn’t. Occasional comedy, yeah. Moments that move you from time to time, absolutely. But what I want are serious people giving the serious problems in our country serious consideration.

It’s not reality tv. It’s not a game show. It’s not war. It’s our body of government deliberating and forming laws for the betterment of our country and our society.

When it starts to break down, we notice. It may not be somethign that we think about front and center, but the problem that arise surely give us pause.

I have opinions as to what an improvement would look like, as does every American old enough to witness the state of America today.

For me, it’s civil and boring. Which, to a doe-eyed Mr. Smith, portrayed by Jimmy Stewart, was all about “plain, ordinary, everyday kindness and … a little looking out for the other fella too.”

What’s going on?

Humanity sure has been a mixed bag over the centuries, haven’t we? Holy wars, dark ages, reality tv. It seems that there’s always some strife on the horizon – a terrible event that will send us over the edge plunging into the abyss.

I wish I could say that the path forward was an easy one. But no meaningful path ever is. It’s walking through the wilderness, machete in hand, blazing a trail. It’s taking a vessel into unknown waters, the stars and a compass your only guide as you attempt to chart the uncharted.

I’d heard it growing up – “America is a melting pot.” But while materials melt together at one temperature, a degree or two hotter will cause them to boil over.

If we’re being honest, it’s never been a completely fair system. We come mostly from aristocratic societies, and we’ve structured our nation in much the same way. We aspire to wealth, perpetuating the illusion that upward mobility is the norm, rather than the exception.

We believe in it so much that we struggle and work and give more hours than previous generations to the pursuit of commercialism. There’s always something else to buy; always a little more work to be done.

We have a wealth gap. We have a race gap. We have a gender gap. The three are not mutually exclusive.

I disbelieve anyone who says their way is the only way. You should too. Because no one has ever gotten out of this mess before in the history of the world, there isn’t a trail. There is no map. That’s up to us.

The thing is, with trailblazing, you have to set aside your fear of the unknown and be prepared to step into unfamiliar terrain. That’s the hardest part. Overcoming the fear of taking steps into the wild. But that’s how we move forward.

Me write pretty

I haven’t submitted very much of my writing, and most of the long form I’ve done either hasn’t been seen, or it’s not yet completed. To wit, I’ve pieces from at least as far back as 2012 that haven’t been fully realized.

Authors of all shades tend to have pieces in drawers and on their computers, all in varying states of completion.

It’s part of the reason I started posting here – to get me more apt to share the work I have finished, or at least maintain a writing practice beyond the morning pages.

About six years ago I shared some writing with someone, and she said I wrote in a flowery way. Conversely, I’d read her essays she was submitting and they were very forward and straight to the point.

There’s value in both methods of writing, and neither one of us (I believe) was issuing a criticism. But it’s something that I’ve remembered, and perhaps it does actually color my writing.

Now, when I’m not writing for the blog, it generally is longer. With fiction I include a lot of descriptive words. I tend to get mired in the descriptions. Working my way out through the weeds can be tricky.

No matter what you’re writing, though, it’s important to find your voice. Your authentic voice. Whether it be flowery, straight-forward, or somewhere in-between.

Contributions

Fortunes were made in the past with less than you can purchase over at Best Buy for about a thousand dollars. The novelty of new creative devices has leveled out, and the equality is spread far enough now that fortunes are more difficult to make in the traditional ways.

Everyone is looking for something of meaning in their life. Something of value. Everyone wants to contribute.

The mundane life

When my brother pointed out to me the fictitiousness of certain cop procedurals on the television, we started talking about how boring actual police work can be.

The same is true for most onscreen depictions. Life, when exposed in two hour increments, or less, is often quite dull. Yes, there are those moments of excitement, but in general they don’t come all that often.

That said, we should embrace the quirks of our own lives. In Lois Roelofs’s Write Along With Me, she states, “No one wants to read boring stuff, so look for those things that make you unique. None of us is the same, so capitalize on it.”

This advice goes to writing by using yourself as character, but it’s also a reminder that while we entertain ourselves with stories of truly remarkable circumstances, there’s plenty in our own lives to keep us interested and engaged.

Starting anew

Several times this past week I’ve heard the September is a great time for new beginnings. Fall crispness, sometimes start to school year, and clothing restrictions all seem to coincide with the Labor Day holiday.

Never in recent history has a new beginning seemed so welcome. The year has been a rocky one, but many are overcoming challenges that we’ve never even considered.

So, yes, start new today. Branch out and expand your possibilities. But never stop overcoming.

Some stories stay with you

I was driving through Jacksonville recently, and as I crossed the Fuller Warren Bridge, I recalled a bit of the audio book I was listening to one time as I drove across.

The story was Thanks for the Trouble, by Tommy Wallach. Looking back, I found that I had read it in sometime between October and December of 2017. Admittedly, it was young adult novel. But there’s a girl who’s planning to jump from a bridge to end her (unusually) long existence. So, perhaps it was the bridge that triggered the memory. Hard to say.

But it’s interesting that some stories will stay with you long after the experience. I can recall my first time seeing Lord of the Rings (as well as other movies from the late nineties and early aughts). Reading Gaiman, Godin, and Ferris. That joke my stepmother told me concerning Mickey’s divorce from Minnie (though the language used is probably the rationale for that remembering).

At the time it may seem so innocuous. But years later, it truly is amazing which of the narratives have stuck with us. Something we heard, or felt, that really resonated with us – indelibly burning its content into our memory.

Workarounds

As with all things we’ve done for a while, you’ve probably developed a way that you like doing things. Disruptions to the process are inevitable, and sometimes those disruptions are permanent.

Finding workarounds is a way to keep the system running as close to the way you like it as possible. 

Workarounds can become part of the system as well.

Early in Photoshop’s development, there were some photographers who would repeat editing tasks – like coloration, for instance, or including a copyright or watermark. They used external software at first to batch these actions, but the functionality was eventually included.

Screenshot of Photoshop Version 0.63
Screenshot of Photoshop’s first version

Workarounds can make use of new technologies, knowledge of other industries, or even just a little ingenuity. 

Body of work

At the end of the day, it’s what we leave behind that matters.

And I don’t mean the things we accumulate. It’s connections, the people whose lives we touch, and who mean something to us in return.

It’s what we produce. The thoughts that we’ve written down, the creations we’ve made, and the lives we’ve built.

Think about the legacy that you want to leave behind. 

Numerical disparities

There’s a divide in numbers that we don’t often think about. For instance, the distance between one million and one billion.

One million seconds is 11 days. That’s not too bad. One-half of a month, and you’ve covered one million seconds.

How much do you think a billion seconds is?

Go on, take a guess.

It’s 31 years. When we only have a vague understanding – the words, but not the concept – than we miss the context of what is being talked about.