...just write whatever crass invective you can conjure-up off the top of your head.
I've been at this public diary thing for several years now, and I guess I'd be flattering myself to think that my meager words could potentially have any meaningful impact, and yet on I write.
Politics gets me down sometimes. Left or right? I feel like I'm probably slightly left of center, but does anyone really know themselves? It's always tempting to jump into the social media fray wielding an opinion, but that's left me red-faced more often than not. Things are often not what they appear to be upon a first glance.
Computers have provided a healthy distraction. I think it's fair to say that diagnostics are what leads many an otherwise non-technical minded person into the world of binary sensibilities. Something doesn't work, and you need to figure it out. Down the rabbit hole you go, hoping to emerge in some antechamber of cathedral-like proportions where everything is crystalline, obviated. But there's an infinite number of forks in the road... or at least about nine hundred and thirty-seven billion forks.
Been playing more guitar lately. I've got a jam buddy who also has a little dog. On my way to jam the other day, two lovely young women were shuffling ahead of me along the avenue, each with a dog of their own. I was pacing away slightly faster than they were, and made a point of observing the basketball one was carrying as I passed by. Before you knew it, they'd invited themselves and their dogs inside my pal's place to listen to the jam. Nearly twice the average of their respective ages, it's safe to say we wouldn't necessarily have a great deal in common - at least in terms of cultural references (television and movies), but music is the universal language, right?
After a brief Q & A, one of the two ladies found the inclination to play my djembe along with the guitar rhythms, and seemed genuinely enthused to keep time. I sang a song and made them laugh a little before they continued on their way to shoot hoops. Rarely finding myself in a situation to fraternize with anyone, let alone millennials, I tend to form generalizations about who and what the post-X demographic represents, and how I'd expect they might conduct themselves around elders. These specimens were polite and in possession of a good sense of humour thereby shattering all my preconceived notions about most millennials being a disengaged and dour bunch of screen tappers.
I should mention that my jam pal is twenty years my senior, so I suppose you could say in regard to the instance I just described, my role became that of a generational bridge?
I've been at this public diary thing for several years now, and I guess I'd be flattering myself to think that my meager words could potentially have any meaningful impact, and yet on I write.
Politics gets me down sometimes. Left or right? I feel like I'm probably slightly left of center, but does anyone really know themselves? It's always tempting to jump into the social media fray wielding an opinion, but that's left me red-faced more often than not. Things are often not what they appear to be upon a first glance.
Computers have provided a healthy distraction. I think it's fair to say that diagnostics are what leads many an otherwise non-technical minded person into the world of binary sensibilities. Something doesn't work, and you need to figure it out. Down the rabbit hole you go, hoping to emerge in some antechamber of cathedral-like proportions where everything is crystalline, obviated. But there's an infinite number of forks in the road... or at least about nine hundred and thirty-seven billion forks.
Been playing more guitar lately. I've got a jam buddy who also has a little dog. On my way to jam the other day, two lovely young women were shuffling ahead of me along the avenue, each with a dog of their own. I was pacing away slightly faster than they were, and made a point of observing the basketball one was carrying as I passed by. Before you knew it, they'd invited themselves and their dogs inside my pal's place to listen to the jam. Nearly twice the average of their respective ages, it's safe to say we wouldn't necessarily have a great deal in common - at least in terms of cultural references (television and movies), but music is the universal language, right?
After a brief Q & A, one of the two ladies found the inclination to play my djembe along with the guitar rhythms, and seemed genuinely enthused to keep time. I sang a song and made them laugh a little before they continued on their way to shoot hoops. Rarely finding myself in a situation to fraternize with anyone, let alone millennials, I tend to form generalizations about who and what the post-X demographic represents, and how I'd expect they might conduct themselves around elders. These specimens were polite and in possession of a good sense of humour thereby shattering all my preconceived notions about most millennials being a disengaged and dour bunch of screen tappers.
I should mention that my jam pal is twenty years my senior, so I suppose you could say in regard to the instance I just described, my role became that of a generational bridge?
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