A Saturday Ramble
For many years I have gotten up on Saturday morning and, clad only in my pajamas and clutching a cup of coffee, would write about whatever thoughts were flitting through my brain at the moment. Depending on the earliness of the hour, there might not be a lot flitting around up there. One of the many recurring themes you will find in these blogs of mine is a general lack of functionality before, say, nine or ten o’clock in the morning.
But today you are in luck, because it is nearing noon and I have already been up for four hours and so there is at least a hope of lucidity and coherency, though, just between you and me, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.
So far today, I have gotten up (no small feat), had a sumptuous breakfast (okay, maybe “sumptuous” is stretching it a bit considering that all I had was a Jimmy Dean sausage and egg biscuit with my instant coffee), performed my morning ablutions (the only kind of ablutions I know, really), and straightened up the house a bit.
Now, this straightening up the house business, while essential, is ultimately pointless. Fruitless. Bootless. Useless. (I could go on in that vein, but the thesaurus is exhausted.) Why is it futile, you ask? (Okay, it had one more.) Well, I live in a house with a wife, a daughter, two dogs, and a cat. The wife and daughter produce laundry at an astounding rate (the entire house looks like the backstage area of a fashion runway). The dogs produce carpet stains at a rate that make it look as if Hessian soldiers marched across it fresh off of the battlefield at Yorktown. The cat, as all cats do, sheds its own body weight in fur every hour. So, with all this going on, one can but fight the good fight, go through the motions of standing in the surf and trying to hold back the tide, but as you can see from my brilliant use of clichéd metaphor, it is ultimately a futile endeavor.
So, eventually, I tire of that and retire to this: writing a rambling Saturday morning blog about nothing much in particular. I suppose I might be considered the Seinfeld of blogs, but without the money, fame, fans, adulation, critical acclaim, and all that other stuff that would make it hard for me to “keep it real”.
So, here I am. Keeping it real.