Monday, May 26, 2014
So, an hour before I officially begin my 49th year, I have decided to post this miscellaneous blog entry. Maybe I should say “Random entry”. Or, “Rambling”. (Dang, I wish I could keep those straight. XD)
What is it about celebrating an annual event? Could it be our need to know how much real time has gone by? How long one has enjoyed, or maybe endured, as one view differs from others, a particular union?
Now, don’t get me wrong: I get excited when the calendar shows one of the myriad of events, even some with which I disagree the base reason for (mainly the professed religious happenings). I look forward to telling someone else of my personal celebrations (like “Today’s my Birthday!”), and join in the acknowledgement of their admitted dates of note, even if internally I would rather offer condolences or sympathy (marriage, children).
Again, don’t take that wrong- I love kids. Even had a hand in making one. ONE. However, I feel the world is extremely overcrowded. The current incidents on display on the news channels (As in TV. I know some still get their information this way. I know it) or posted on multitudes of different websites shows the general public is, for lack of a better cliché, well on the way to hell in a hand basket. And the basket gets to come back to get more.
However, most everyone looks forward to their own personal celebrations every year. From New Years ("What was your Resolution?" To slap down the idea that most people could follow through with one all year long. Had they wanted it so, it would already be so. Maybe.) through to the next New Years' Eve. All the dates which spark excitement or regret are marked, watched for, and anticipated. On the particular day, they may be heard saying, "It's just another day." If that's true, why is it marked, watched, and anticipated?
I wonder if anyone has delved into what began these rituals? (If the pondering is too much, head on over to Google and type in the celebration concerning you and see what you get.) Probably. Not I, though. No, not I. I just like to hypothesize. Even make up my own little stories to explain them. I am a fiction writer, after all. No one said I had to be exactly correct. I think the corresponding phrase is, “Poetic License”, even though it ain’t poetry.
I’ll sign off now. Hopefully, I have given someone else the thought. I just hope it doesn’t drive them mad thinking about it, or they might get mad.
Until Later, from the deepest part of my mind- That part which has been emptiest longest. It’s where most of the inane, inconsequential nonsense usually ends up.
…and, as I say on my other blog, “Write On!”