Why must we lose to realize value?

At some point in everyone's life, we've lost something we didn't then realize was valuable to us. It could be said you were taking it for granted, that it would always be there, and only missed its absence. Yet, there's more to it. I can't say I've ever considered a hair comb all that valuable, but I've had times when I desperately wished I had one. How about a good knife? What about butter? Water? Air?

And, then there are the things you can't really touch, like the nearness of a friend, or the words of a loved one. Photos and sound files can remind us of these things, but they sure don't replace them. Mountains are wonders to behold, and filled my childhood; now, I live in a flatlands and miss them more than I can express. Such things leave a lasting mark, never quite healing or wanting to heal. And, there's our own bodies. Have you ever cherished your sight, your hearing, your sense of touch and taste? What about your fingers? Legs? Memory?

My hometown. To think I had a mountain in my backyard ... wow.

Take the time to count your blessings, in every part of life. Don't let loss teach you value. I prefer enjoying something before it's gone, if I can help it. Although, there is a concept of too much of a good thing--like ice cream, chocolate, and tickles. Whatever you do, wherever you go, take the time to note what's important to you and spend time valuing those things. You may even realize that what you thought was important isn't and what you took for granted is more important than anything else.

- M

Chairs defy me on purpose! I swear. It's not me. They're out to get me.

The chair attacked me! I crushed it's spine in self defense.

One of the examples of having faith is the humble chair. It's said we all believe without question that chairs will support us, and don't put much thought into the act of sitting in one. Well, I beg to differ! My experience is chairs are unqualified and should be viewed with extreme skepticism at all turns. I cannot count the number of chairs that have exploded beneath me. Personally, I'm insulted, but I can only view this as a massive conspiracy against me.

We depend on many things to work as designed and when they don't we're understandably upset. It's a point of faith. When we get into our cars and turn the key, the engine should start. When we use a broom, the bristles should stay put and sweep up the dust. When we flip the light switch, the light should turn on. It should be faith, it should be a certainty!

Maybe I should put together a petition against objects in general. Inanimate objects hate me. Pencils and pens also fly out of my grasp like greased weasels (my best friend remembers very well being smacked in the face by soaring writing implements in computer programming school). Walls reach out and crack me in the elbow. I'm hardly clumsy, but these things happen all the time. It's on purpose, and the inanimate world is to blame! #SayNoToChairs

- M

Magical moments by complete accident.

Have you ever done something incredibly awesome, but had no idea whatsoever how you managed it? Kind of like a "hey, watch this" moment, but it worked. These are the times which cause us so much trouble in the future, because we believe we can somehow do it again. And, then we fail ... usually spectacularly. It's the second attempt which goes up as a viral video, and you then get to experience the facepalm moment over and again. Glorious.

But, if you manage to restrain yourself from trying again, then you live with the marvelous knowledge of achieving true magic. It's brilliant. Sure, it's nothing mystical, but since when did magic need to be anything beyond a wonder to behold? That's why we scratch our heads when we watch little kids ... because they experience magical wonders on a daily basis. Adults stop looking, and thereby miss way too much.

Imagination is a good way to recover some of the old magic. Practice watching clouds, and calling out what you see in them. Look at the stars. Watch an anthill -- but not red ants, ouch! Allow yourself to gasp with amazement again. It's okay. Adults can grin too. Lighten up!

- M

Teaching a new driver to drive and not becoming insane.

I'm now on my second child learning to drive. I'm only party insane now. I'm reminded of Bob Newhart's incredibly funny skit about the driving instructor. No, it's not that bad, really. So long as you (the parent) are keeping a good eye on the road and thinking a bit ahead of your student (child), then things go swimmingly Of course, being a new driver makes everything a tad unsteady. What I mean is, I find that learning to keep your hands apparently calm and not shrieking like a banshee helps beyond words.

All kidding aside, learning to drive is one of the greatest accomplishments of young adulthood. It's about the only rite of passage we have here in the United States, and it marks the first true liberation of a child. I'll never forget when our oldest daughter finally realized just how free it made her when she could borrow the car and go out to buy whatever she wanted. She didn't have to convince us anymore to take here somewhere, because she could just get the keys and go. Eureka!

Gradual steps toward the full responsibility of adulthood is a wonderful thing, but I must admit that learning to drive is right up there with being tossed into a sea of red ants and told to keep still. It's not easy. On one hand, you want to get up and go, and on the other hand you're worried about failure. But, you can only fly if you spread your wings and try. There's a life lesson somewhere ...

- M

Dumb, Stupid, and Really Bad Planning.

Ever do something with thought and planning only to find out it was embarrassingly stupid? I can't be the only one. The funny thing is, we don't necessarily realize right away how dumb it really was. Sometimes we go on thinking we just didn't do it right and try again a few more times. That's gotta be the reason so many people tried riding a barrel over Niagara Falls. I don't believe anyone could possibly be that stupid without truly believing they were performing a brilliant stunt. Of course, there's always the hero complex reason, but going for glory only takes someone so far before they question the sanity of the quest.

photo credit

As kids we probably do more than our share of stupid stunts. It's only natural as we test our limits and discover what's a good idea and what isn't. I sure did. I'll never forget my great plan of seeing how far I could throw a brick into the air. I put it on a plank of wood, with another brick near the center as a fulcrum, then I jumped up on the board and watched the brick go into orbit. At least that's what I thought would happen. It must have gone fairly high, because I didn't see it hit the ground, and I sure wasn't looking up, so I took a few steps to the side and ... whammo! Right in the forehead. The next thing I remember is waking up and seeing our big oak tree sticking out of the ground sideways. Yup, I knocked myself cold.

Thing is, I realized it might arc into me, so I stepped aside, and the blasted thing nailed me anyway. And, yes, I planned it all out, even so far as realizing I didn't want to look up and get it in the nose. Planning didn't help at all, it was a foolish, stupid, moronic thing to do.

Hopefully we learn from such mistakes and educate ourselves. Then, perhaps and hopefully, we make better choices.

- M

Juice and computer keyboards don't mix

I've been around computers basically since they appeared in schools and homes. One thing I've been constant about is don't get water on the cpu or the keyboard. I'm currently typing on a keyboard I am actually astonished to be using. I essentially poured orange juice all over it. Not a little. Not a sip. A whole glass of it. Yes, orange juice is sticky, but it also creates a very unique smell when applied to a keyboard (something south of rotting fruit). My guess is that I have a short time to write this post before the keyboard gets too sticky to use the keys anymore. Frankly, I'm amazed it even functions.

One time my wife spilled a single drop of water on this very same type of keyboard. There was a little pop... a fizzle... and a tiny spark. Wammo, no more keyboard. This silly thing took a whole glassful and is still going. Not sure why, but it won't last long. It's a pity, because this is one of the old Microsoft Ergonomic Elite keyboards that aren't made anymore. It has gotten dusty and dirty though; the casing has yellowed with age, and no amount of cleaning will bring back the luster of youth. I've written three books with it, so it has done well for me.

Rest in Peace

Amazing how tools become like dear cousins after a while. Despite them being hard to understand and a bit distant, they worm their way into our lives and stay there forever. I'll miss this old keyboard .. but, no I'm not burying it in the backyard.

I'll bury it in the front...

- M

Surprise! That didn't quite work as expected, but it worked!

Happy accidents that work out are great fun. It reminds me of the phrase from the A-Team, "I love it when a plan comes together." In stories especially, accidents can make the plot twist and turn. However, they can also create the fabled "gift of the gods" effect where something comes out of nowhere and saves the day without any real reason other than the author wanted it that way. It feels rather cheap.

 

Apparently wine was an accidental result, as were many other inventions. I wouldn't be surprised at all if some of the best things in life are complete accidents. I can't even begin to count the number of times luck has been on my side and made all the difference. Sure, you can't count on luck, but it's a lot of fun when it goes your way.

 

It could be because unpredictability is hard to guess. We all enjoy trying to outsmart the story. Accidents make it more challenging. Maybe that's why stories like "Game of Thrones" draw such a huge audience? When even the top main characters aren't safe, then who knows what can happen? That's entertaining.

 

- M