WINTER FUN

Day 2: Hula Hoop Theory

     So reader, I left you yesterday with visions of this writer frantically searching for something relevant to say, combing the waters for a small morsel of pertinent material. All the while that I was swimming, the world just kept on spinning, creating another 24 hours of food for thought.  Perhaps the best way to grapple it all is to jump right in, and just start managing the irrelevant stuff while laying a foundation for the pinnacle yet to come.

Yesterday in news, it was reported that Mr. Joe Rickey Hundley was sentenced to 8 months in prison for slapping a crying baby on board a Delta flight from Minneapolis to Atlanta. Slapping an 18 month old baby?? Are you kidding??? What kind of an idiot slaps a random toddler, except maybe another toddler? Mr. Hundley should be sentenced to 8 years, or at least until he figures out how to develop and  practice his rituals of self control. He needs to find a toddler sponsor who will lend him a hula hoop as a gesture of good faith, hoping that he will spend the next few years dropping the hoop over his head, and carefully examining the area inside the hula hoop. This area reader is the starting point for one's ability to exist successfully in this nuts world in which we live.  The area inside the little plastic ring represents the only true slice of control that we as human beings have. The development of this area starts during toddler hood,  requiring the little tykes to curb the delightfully quirky and irrational behavior that defines their age. Mr. Hundley, who looks to be in his late 50's or early 60's, was apparently never given a hula hoop, and therefore never passed successfully  through these milestone years!!

Bottom line:

The world is jam packed with things we just can't control....on airplanes and everywhere else.The truth is that even inside our own plastic ring, complete control is a futile attempt. Our bodies get sick, and they break down over time. Accidents happen, and sometimes other people's circumstances swirl right into our hoop. The best we can do is to define our own little sphere and develop our own working code of who we want to be and how we want to treat others. If we were all to focus on improving the area inside our hula hoop, maybe creepy old men wouldn't slap random babies on airplanes!

Day 1: Clupeidae

     So here I sit - finally - me and my keyboard, with an unfocused mind that has literally thousands of writable thoughts in any given day if not hour. The outpouring is equivalent to a huge school of Clupeidae moving erratically through turbulent ocean waters, but at the same time, moving towards a synchronized and calculated outcome. What this mental image should conger up in the reader is the notion that a beginning point today will be a few frivolous words that serve to free the writer so that she may establish ground zero, with the intention of moving forward towards a synchronized theme. So at this point reader, visualize all those tiny little fish wiggling and swimming about, gliding and swaying with the currents of the day, but moving decidedly in search of a very calculated result. So too shall I flop and glide a little bit today, working the currents that inhabit my brain, to see if I can't establish a path to a desired outcome. Unfortunately for me, the little fish have a much easier directive, as their desired outcome is simply to fulfill their biological urge to eat. My quest is slightly more complex, as I am in search of relevance and applicability, not food particles. And so I ask you reader to grant me my free form day or two so that I may begin to  chart my own course in the huge ocean of bloggery.