A Needed Clarification
I think I need to offset my typically critical and pessimistic tone here. It goes without saying (here) that I take issue with the direction of our country and those leading the way. It’s simply my personality type to point out needless clutter, especially when it aims to overtake other serene areas of life. Just mentioning it, getting it out of my head, helps me deal with the tempestuous storm of nonsense thrown around every day. Unless I learn to ignore it, or no longer continue to find value in discussing it, I’ll keep doing the same.
I don’t mention the good stuff enough. It’s there, and plenty of it, but I tend to cherish it privately.
This morning I find myself at home, coffee in hand, working on a demo for my latest software package. I’ve enjoyed this project, as it’s allowed plenty of creative authority from both the architecture and design perspectives. I work from home mostly, which lends itself ideally to having a toddler. I hear music leading through the foyer as a backdrop to my son executing his first grasps at language. Every few minutes I hear his mother speak to him, verifying the truth of his statements and telling him how much she loves him. I’m adding value to a business using skills that I enjoy, and the most important entities on earth are only 10 steps away.
I can hear my lab’s toenails clicking on the floor when he swings by for a morning visit. He’ll report to our bed shortly for his morning nap… without his naps, he simply wouldn’t be able to make it.
The walls of my office are lined with guitars, ones with my name on them. Looking down at your instrument on stage and seeing a logo that you spent many years thinking about is a very rewarding experience. Music has been a strong ally for the past 12 years. My son now knows the word guitar and will eagerly strum the guitar when held in front of it - the one with his name on it. The music he heard in utero now serve as lullabies. John Coltrane, Blue Highway, George Winston - he likes them all.
My new shop is finally setup for production, now I just have to be creative with my time. I’ve years worth of orders still in the queue, very patient yet eager customers on the waiting end. I can’t wait to get each of them their guitar.
I spend about an hour, 200 rounds, $20, per week at an indoor firing range near my office. I verify reliability of my carry pistol, and work on drills. Hopefully this practice will make the difference in life or death for myself or my family in the unfortunate event that I’m ever forced to defend us. Shooting is a violent series of sincere tributes to man’s mind, with the lurking reminder of the evil that instigated the art form - an exhilarating mixture of pride and resentment. Having a weapon on my hip as I greet my son after travel assembles such an ironic event. The awe of beautiful, innocent life, and the reality that there are those who don’t properly value it.
My life is very fulfilling. I have a deep respect for reality, a strict sense of right and wrong, and a mental faculty that adheres to both. I enjoy using my mind, and I’m rewarded for doing such. I have a lovely, intelligent and tolerant woman that has accepted and started a family with me. The joy of our son is incomparably overwhelming. I have a family that continues to muster affection for me, overlooking my petulant tendencies. I have serious and part-time hobbies that I enthusiastically pursue, which satisfy my creative and inventive urges. I have friends with which I enjoy warm coffee, cold beer and intriguing conversation.
Life is good.
