Vintage random thought
I have nothing to say… Oh wait, that can’t be right. The voice in my head never stops yammering, so perhaps I should just share a bit of that monkey din. Let’s see, I was super uptight with my kids this morning in response to their less than “militarily precise” approach to preparing for the first day of school. My fluster-faced antics were unnecessary and as it turns out, super unproductive. They watched me rant with bemused looks of teenage indifference. Suddenly it dawned on me that I was “choosing” to be an ass. “Thank god,” I thought, and just like that, I chose to change my choice. I decided that I no longer wished to be a “that dad,” so I stopped my foolishness, and apologized to my sons. Breakfast and the ride to school were lighthearted and fun. So that’s all I have to say…
Wait, I do want to mention that while I was acting like a child, they were keeping their distance, staying emotionally clear of the bad mojo vortex. They had decided it seems, to give me the space to work through whatever ass clown hair shirt I was knitting without engaging. Well done boys.
I have nothing to say, that needs to be said, at the moment. That said or said thrice perhaps, I like saying stuff. When I was a young boy I had, as some parents might say “a lot of energy.” My father was a man of few words. Of those few words, the ones I often heard were “stop babbling.” What? Not enrich the world with my eight-year-old prattle? You can’t be serious? Poor guy’s ears must have been near bleeding!
I have a couple talkers in my house. The suspects are male, ages 13 and 16. While they both can go on serious verbal tears, the 13-year-old is exceptionally gifted. He can speak incessantly for such extended periods that we’ve actually coined terms to describe his gift. When he’s been thinking out loud at the speed of sound for some interminable period, we call it ‘streaming’…he calls it “broadcast mode.” I used to talk, or “babble” like that when I was a boy, ha! It doesn’t hurt anyone, so I just let him blow that horn.
Some folks don’t talk much. Some folks do. Some are great listeners while others don’t seem to have the ability to give two stray shits about what anyone says, even as they pretend to listen. What? Ha, just kidding.
So it seems I have nothing important to say, but I’m damn happy to be here, to have another day on this planet with opportunities in front of me and most of the “learning the hard way” behind me. Babblers, quite folk, grumpsters, and joy monkeys, may you find wildflowers and spring water along your path as you walk to the beat of your own personal expression drums.