It’s such a stupid, silly thing really. Whole towns losing their collective minds over a damn game played by children. I can’t defend it to skeptics, it’s not rational. I am all too aware of its abuses, especially on rainy mornings when my ankles creak and sing of forgotten glories. Driving home late from another … Continue reading Now, it begins again… (Friday Night Lights)
I woke up this morning and didn’t feel any older, but according to the calendar, I’m now 38 years old — which is weird, just yesterday I was 37. But now I’m 38, another year closer to 40. This is supposed to upset me, but it really doesn’t. As I’ve said previously: I think I’m going to get better as I get older.
I was born July 12, 1976. Saturday marks my 38th birthday. Turning 38 is one of those deceptively innocuous birthdays. Because there’s not social standing or stigma associated with it, one tends to overlook its significance.
They say you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar, but who wants to catch flies? I think the lesson is it’s easier to draw people by being sweet than sour, but it falls apart when you consider flies typically congregate around dead things. The saying should be, you can catch more flies with a corpse than you can with insecticide. But I suppose it doesn’t have quite the same bumper-sticker value.
Either way, there’s something fundamentally important about treating people well. How would your life be different if you stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter? What if, instead of always assuming the negative, you gave your fellow man the benefit of the doubt? Dare you hope for the best in others, instead of assuming the worst?
Men, I hate to break it to you, but your fate is sealed. Yeah, the experts all agree: the 2014 Overton Mustangs will finish “next to last” in District 11-2A competition and thus will be unable to reach the playoffs. It’s written down somewhere, so it must be true… right? Surely these people know what they’re talking about. C’mon, if Dave Campbell’s Texas Football and TheOldCoach.com’s Friday Night Football say it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen. Right? Obviously they’ve done the research and looked at all the evidence to come to an objective outlook on the coming year.
The advent of social media has revolutionized not only how we document our lives, but how we live them. Look around. It’s not uncommon now for many of us to fill Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram feeds with our everyday comings and goings.
Granted, I’m the last one to suggest all-out social media abstinence. Those of you who have me on your “Friends” list know I’m a regular purveyor of 140-character Twitter witticisms, artsy-filtered Instagram photos, and the occasional ideological debate on Facebook. But it is possible to have too much of a good thing, way too much of a mediocre thing, or diabolically too much of a trivial thing.
Last night I dreamt hundreds of random stars were disappearing from the night sky. World leaders were meeting about it, people were committing suicide, and religious groups were claiming the fulfillment of numerous conflicting eschatological prophecies. Last night I dreamt the end of the world.