It is Friday evening, it’s been a hard week, especially for Mrs. Monkey, who has muted the tv and crawled off to bed unusually early, to read, roll over, and recharge. The lights are down, the candles are flickering and I, true to form on such thoughtful, reflective occasions, have poured myself a wee dram of Highland Park.
I am pretty maverick when it comes to New Years resolutions. Sometimes I make’em – sometimes I don’t. This year I made one but didn’t tell anyone, just in case I couldn’t live up to my promise to myself.
I decided way back a couple of months ago to make the effort. To not succumb to the “It’s too difficult” – “It’ll never happen” – “I’m too tired” mindset. I decided it was worth it if I could pull it off.
I decided to use my life on screen to facilitate my life off of it. I decided to make contact with the outside world. I would catch up with friends and relatives, old and new, face to face. Shake hands, air kiss and man hug. Scary, I know.
Facebook has facilitated more than one link-up across the world bringing together many a long lost friendship but the cyber contact can be dry and distancing, can’t it?
So, after a stuttering start, I clicked off and kicked off.
On Monday, I caught up with an old friend I hadn’t seen for 43 years. We rabbited for 3 hours and only stopped because we couldn’t possibly drink anymore and still make it home. We had a lot of ground to cover.
In the process of arranging that reconnection I stayed overnight with my parents, both in their 80’s and both rambling on. Again, I think the last time I did that I was 22. And in the course of the idle conversation, freed from the lack of time pressure , I learned things about them I would never have done during one of my normal 2 hour visits.
Tomorrow I will catch up with an old friend I haven’t seen for a couple of years and I know it will be fun.
Time is a stealer. We all know it. “If only I wasn’t so busy.” There’s always an excuse. But for people who catch up, who make the effort, it’s more than a trip down memory lane. It’s more than feeling that warm glow of nostalgia. It’s about ratification. The human condition. The sense that what we have done and will do is shared with other people. It had and has some validity. A substantiated shared experience.
And as you look back you begin to see the effects of the accidents of happenstance, the forks in the road. If my grandfather hadn’t died at the age of 32, way back in the first half of the last century, the chances are I would have become a farmer. The societal pressures and expectations of the time would have seen to it. Now that feels weird given the contrast with the life I have led. My farming life would have been very different. I might have had muscles for a start!
So I blog, like millions of others, and lob these random thoughts into the Milky Way of interstellar data. And from the Starship SinglemaltMonkey reflect – The webster is an essential tool, but connection speeds can be a lot faster.
Open the Pod Bay door, Hal.