Writing is easy. Making sense when you write is hard.
~My adaption of the time worn saw.
Thursday, May 30, 2019. The real Memorial Day before we bastardized the memorial into a three-day holiday of excess.
I don’t know how many of these coffee posts I have made in the last few years. A coffee post is an indulgence rather than a work. I have grown weary with them, but they do serve to keep my fingers on the keyboard as I attempt to capture you for the 30 to 90 seconds it takes to read one. But I need to do more than capture you when I write. I need to hold your attention and not abuse the investment in time you make with me.
For that, I feel guilty. I do squander my readers times with predictable old man musings. I dash them off with nary a thought given to the value of my readers time. But the truth is my life is uneventful. I rise. I eat. I retire. And sometimes life intrudes with its tragedies.
I try to make sense of life as ponder endlessly on life and death, while old Thanatos breathes heavily upon the left side of my neck. A great man is admired by his accomplishments, even if those accomplishments bring on more misery than they do good. I am sure that a lot of people wheren’t so thrilled with Alexander the Great’s military genius, nor of his legacy. Yet he is rarely portrayed as a tyrant and a villain.
Hevel havalim hakol hevel. Vanity of vanity, it is all vanity.
Enough for the day is sufficient evil.
Yeah. I pretty much conclude the same thing as Solomon and Messiah. Enjoy the work of my hands, and enjoy the wife of my youth. Everything else is vanity, even trying to make sense of life or trying impress my readers.