Old man vs young boy

As my 2 year old cellular telephone sputters out its last electronic breaths, I'm left with the decision of whether or not it is time to 'get with it' and upgrade to a 'smart phone.'  For reasons unbeknownst to me I have been curmudgeonly opposed to the idea for months on end.  I usually say things like, "I have a computer at my house god damnit, why do I need one in my pocket?"  "My phone is for talking on the phone, not for using the internet!"  "I don't want to pay another fifty dollars a month!"  The old man in me is fairly insistent that things are just fine the way they are and newfangled technology is moot and wasteful.

However, there is the young boy in me as well.  The young boy who thrives on Nintendo and anything new and gizmoish.  My young boy never cares about how much things cost, thats for the old man in me to pay for.  "Look at all the games this thing has, and a really nice camera too!"  "I'll know the answer to any given trivia question always and forever!"

I'm interested to see who comes out on top of this one.

And to be honest, I'm rooting for the young boy.

'Merica

I present this without comment.

Proud

Today I awoke to a phone call from my father.

Yesterday he underwent some degree of ocular surgery in attempt to repair his eyesight.  He is one of the few people I know that share the particularly bad degree of vision I have adapted to (although he is not color blind as I am).  Clearly I inherited this vision from him, and something we have always agreed upon is the first thing you do every day is put your glasses on and the last thing you do is take them off and put them on the headboard.

The surgery he underwent was not a guaranteed winner.  There was a chance that his body would reject the operation and his eyesight would end up worse than ever.  Needless to say, his surgery was a success, and he is now able to see out of one eye (the other one shall be operated on next week) without the use of his glasses.

I can barely wrap my head around, as I'm sure he is experiencing, the idea of not wearing glasses.

The fact that he gets to grapple with his new problem of what to substitute in for the first and last thing to do everyday with a smile on his glasses-less face makes me proud of the old man.

What I found...

What I found on my walk yesterday:

-Lots of concrete.  So much so that all the parks and gardens that give Missoula her namesake seem implanted and coerced.

-The duck pond was wintered out of all life, save for three plastic bags choking to the side of the bank.

(If there is trash on top of concrete, which one is the litter?)

-A woman smoking a cigarette at a bus stop, staring at me intensely as she sucked hard on her butt, like I was doing something wrong and needed monitoring.

-A delicious orange purchased from the store, which I consumed on my way back.  I made a point to throw the rind onto some grass.

-When I got back home my neighbors were in tears smoking cigarettes on the stoop cussing at each other.

Dreary.

Routine

It can be difficult to come across inspiration in one's 'day to day.'

Inspiration to smile, to write, to create, to help out.

When swaddled into routine, human beings will often forget to stop and grow.

For myself especially, even though I set aside a small amounts of time throughout the week to create, those moments seem even more so shackled by routine.  These will often time be my least productive portions of the day.

Never underestimate the power of trudging out the door into a brisk morning, shoving your hands in your pockets, and taking a good old fashioned walk.  Today I shall do so, and shall make sure to clean my glasses first.