OFG XXI

[editor's note: The OFG is my alter ego, The Old Fat Guy. He is witty, deep-thinking, clear in as few words as he can manage, sometimes a bit grumpy, and in need of a hamburger. Usually, his posts will be collections of his thoughts briefly expressed on a dozen or so seemingly random topics. They will seem to be random due to their randomness. We now return you to the OFG...]

Uninformed

It's okay to disagree with my opinion, but please develop one. One of your very own, developed by reading a variety of sources of information. Glomming onto the rantings of Rush and calling that your own opinion is not what I am talking about.

A Matter of Taste

I promise I will never insist that you like my music, my food, or my choice in beverage. I will, though, try yours once if you will try mine.

The Universe

While it is not all-that-is, I can get behind calling it that, as it is plenty enough for me to fail to wrap my brain around.

Consideration

This one is easy, folks, as in "play by the golden rule" easy: if you offer an open hand to others, they are far more likely to return the gesture. Fists don't solve anything. Only open hands do.

Prostration

This is a concept past its prime. If someone demands this level of worship, I heartily recommend moving on to something less demeaning. If this is your choice as part of your religion, please forgive my lack of understanding.

Eclecticism

I love the freedom to pick and choose which aspects of the many life philosophies to invite to become part of my own understanding. Equally, I love the ones which invite themselves, pushing past the guards at the doors of my awareness.

Washington

Love the president by this name, not so sure of the government resident in the city named for him.

Cataclysm

Is it crazy to think of cataclysmic events as Mother Earth having a bit of a sneezing fit, a cold, a touch of allergy?

Anti-intellectuals

I grow weary of know-it-all pundits about as fast as anyone else does, but I become purely annoyed with those who believe there is something wrong with being smart. It's not cute when a candidate for VIce President of the United States wonders what her job would entail and does so out loud.

Jazz

Is there any other music form which spans such a wide range in its varieties? To think that my daughter's gorgeous vocal jazz pieces are in the same genre as Miles Davis's work is crazy to consider. There must be 100 different names for the categories jazz encompasses.

Ghosts

While I have never seen a ghost or felt one, I can honestly say I live with one. We bought the house which was built and lived in by only one family before us: the dad was my band teacher in high school. Rolly is still here, too. His sweet energy was a steadying influence in my high-school years, and that energy is here, in the house he was living in back in 1970 when I was his right-hand man. He was nearing retirement age then, and so he needed someone to help him stay organized and make sure he was where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there. I rode with him many times to the football games where we played Hail to the Victors after our team scored, and sometimes I wonder if he would have gotten to the game without me in the car--he could just as well have ended up at Denny's and be having his third cup of coffee by the time we found him. I loved that man, and I love his house.

Invisible

I read a sci-fi short story once where the main character was able to become invisible when under stress. It reminded me of my own experience, where I am often rendered invisible by those around me. Not lately, as I have unlearned invisibility. More when I was a teenager, and those around me were cooler, better-looking, more in-the-know and generally more popular. So, I was simply invisible. I still live in the same part of town where I went to high school, yet in all the times I have run into people I spent years with at good old GW, only once have I been recognized by the person I stumbled upon. Everyone else looked puzzled, even after I told them my name.