If you’ve been keeping up with the MTGU, and I know you have, you have noticed that Harmony recently started an excellent new series of Monday Mash-Ups. Last week, she had an idea to create even more Monday fun–by coming up with a weekly topic and then having everyone contribute a paragraph on it. This week’s contributors were Mac, Irv, Tiny D, The Daily Wit, TB, and of course Harmony. It is enough good stuff to break in half. Here’s the first part of this week’s Monday Mash-Up:
Happiness. When I saw the subject for our first collaborated Monday Mash Up, my first instinct was to just post Louis CK’s hilarious bit on the subject. Long story short, he talks about people in other parts of the world having real problems (like not starving) and Americans having to make up shit to be mad about. “I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAVE TO PRESS 2 FOR ENGLISH!” It’s pretty funny. My own personal thoughts on happiness meander about in an ever changing landscape. I think it boils down to figuring out what is really important. At this point in my life, I have pretty much narrowed that down to my family. I know it seems, based on my Facebook posts, that I consider many other things to be important but they really are not. As good as I am at my job, if I die tomorrow, they won’t miss a beat. This is true about all things in life. After you are dead, you will be quickly forgotten. My best estimation is your name will never be uttered after one generation for most of us. So you better get busy being happy while you can. But you can still be irritated when you have to press 2 for English or a fat little redneck has the highest rated show on TLC.
“Happiness is a warm gun”
There are some folks who no doubt agree with that statement. From locked up murderers to hell bent mercenaries to avid hunters and NRA members. Me? I can say it’s fun to fire a gun. Feeling the power in your hands is some sort of romantic ideal I’d imagine; for me it’s just the explosive end product of destroying a clay pigeon. It must not be too intoxicatingly romantic since I’ve only experienced it a handful of times. Happiness feels hard to grasp, difficult to put a finger on, and as I age, less prevalent in my day-to-day existence. I assume this happens to all of us as the responsibilities and bills pile up leading to an existence of getting by as best as one can, snatching little kernels of love and happiness whenever they are made available to us. Matt Damon’s character in Dogma says, “…. cause that’s really all life is, Sister. It’s a series of moments. Why don’t you seize yours?” That to me is where society’s problems arise. Most of us don’t seize those moments, instead we spend our time passively absorbing life’s little bits and milestones and allowing them to shrink under the weight of fear and security. Why do most people ignore their dreams and avoid trying their hand at what makes them happy? Fear: happiness’ partner in crime and simultaneously its mortal enemy. Our fears stop us from taking the leap, and yet it is beating the fear that leads to joy and completeness. It seems most people just let the fear get a good solid grip. Perhaps fear is actually the Devil, a demon sent to ruin what is the human race’s greatest cognitive ability: the ability to grasp and enjoy happiness. Of course it s our cognitive abilities which allow us to weigh the pros and cons and decipher the path of least resistance, the path of safety and assurance, the path that seems to lead to comfort but not the optimal level of happiness. It’s a constant Catch 22: Fear and Happiness rolling in the mud participating in a game of cosmic tug of war.
It’s a beautiful Saturday morning. The birds are singing, the sun is shining, I’m down one child (who spent the night with a friend). It’s our first soccer Saturday of 2012. I’m excited, as are my two littlekins. I woke up and put on my wonder woman underoos. My charges had a HOT breakfast thank you very much. Eggs, bacon and toast. They were particularly cheerful considering the hour. We were on schedule for our departure assuring our arrival at the soccer field by 8am. I had assumed all the planets were aligned. All cleats, shin guards, socks, uniforms, glasses and whatnot were present and accounted for. My little fella had even loaded the soccer chairs into the trunk for me. (7:40 am…enter chaos) “ok everybody in the car. Time to go” yes ma’am. Hey, punkin…do you have my keys? (they like to crank the car for me – did I mention how sweet they are?) “um…no”
Ok let’s find the keys. Top of dryer? No. Dining room table? No. Ironing board? No. Kitchen counter? 7:45…No. Other side of the kitchen counter? No. Ok think think think. Retrace steps. Came home, keys on dryer. Picked them back up. Cranked car to fill bicycle tires with the handy dandy portable compressor Pop gave us. (I had no idea how convenient that would be. Thanks Pop!) Then what? 7:50…voice rising…Certainly back on top of the dryer. Right? Look again. NO! In the car? No. Under the seat? No. 7:55…ok this is ridiculous. Look EVERYWHERE again. 8:02. Almost crying. Defeat. I call my neighbor. Completely humiliated. Hello? Good morning. I have a strange request. I’d expect nothing less on a Saturday morning at 8:00am. Shoot…
Um…blah blah blah (see above) and littlekins are suppose to be at the field now. Um, maybe, could I, and you can say no, maybe please use your car? Loud laughter. Well thank you for giving me permission to say no. But, Of course, come on. Hurry hurry hurry.
A. Having awesome neighbors who I’m sure think I’m a complete loser but like me a little, at least enough to let me borrow their car to get my kids to soccer.
B. finding your keys IN the stacks of folded laundry.
And most of all,
C. Realizing that my spare set of keys that I forgot to retrieve from the residence where they were in hiding for a little over a year (since before my drastic weight loss) can return to their rightful abode and live fearlessly on the key rack.