Bored yet?

So, are you bored yet? Well, ya ought’ta be… Here you are again, in my little corner of the plastic world. What does that say about us, I wonder, that we’re here communing in anonymous sympatico (now there’s an oxymoron) via a metal and plastic box? Do we lack an interesting life? Do we lack friends? Love? Recognition? What?!! Why are we ogling the detritus of each other’s lives with the avidity of ornithologists equipped with high-power binoculars, notebooks, pencils and bug spray?

Because it’s fun. That’s why! Right? We’ll probably even start to care about each other and worry about each other’s predicaments. That’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Why, yes, I think so… I mean, here we are, perfect strangers and yet we might come to communicate. It kind of warms the cockles of my atrophying little heart. It even gives me hope for the future of mankind. We’re proving that people still reach out and embrace each other. It’s just that we use different methods now. And I just realized that less than a dozen years ago it wasn’t even possible.

Whoa, now! How the heck did this happen? How the heck do I know? What the heck do I care? But I do. I do care that we have the means and the interest to continue this exercise. Maybe this is the modern day equivalent of soap operas. It’s just an idea. Good grief, don’t cringe, for heaven’s sake! Don’t pull away like that… Sit down and write a new page in your own ‘blog.’ I’m waiting anxiously. Let’s get this relationship moving along. The world is falling apart around us. We have to weave a net of comfort and try to hold it together. D’ya think..? Oh, alright…I’m bored, okay?

Actually, I’m not. I don’t quite understand the concept of boredom. There’s always something to do. Even if it’s only taking a minute to kick back and do a little thinking. Right now I’m sitting here writing. That’s something. All my life I’ve been driven by this powerful urge to vomit thoughts onto a page, but I seldom have. (Just ask all those relatives and friends of mine who’ve been waiting for a note for ages and ages!!)

Dear husband is making his way back from New Jersey right now, after a quick visit with his aged and ailing parents, type ‘A’ sister and a bit too mellow brother. I usually go with him but the sister decided that it was time for the ‘family’ to interact without any outside interference with ‘other’ mortals. That’s me, the other sister-in-law and brother-in-law. Clannish? You bet! These people do not recognize anyone outside the immediate gene pool. They have no curiousity, sensitivity for, or interest in anyone else. This concept is totally outside my ken. I’m curious about everyone. I’m interested in knowing about others, their thoughts, approach to life, experiences, etc. Bet’cha they (the clan) wouldn’t be ‘blogging’ like us, dear reader…

Okay, to be fair, dear husband is not quite like that. He’s somewhere between the way they are and the way I am. He’s a bit reserved but he’s awfully sweet really, and smart. And, he has this highly developed sense of humor. I’ll keep him. A good laugh, shared, is one of the best things I can think of…outside of a big hug. But the others in his family? I don’t know…I just don’t know. Do you know that we’ve been living in New Hampshire for 18 years and none of them has come up for a visit, asked what our lives are like in New Hampshire, what kind of a house we live in, what’s the economy like up here?! What kind of people do we interact with daily? What’s the town like? How many people live in the town and surrounding area? Is it rural, citified or what? What’s the college like that’s here in our town? What do we do for recreation? Do we have friends? Activities? Decent health? Nothing! But… we’re always hearing “the next time you come down, let us know so we get together. We haven’t seen you for a long time…yadda, yadda.” Yeah, right. Guess that they don’t know that the mileage is the same from New Jersey to New Hampsire as it is from NH to NJ. Oh well, keeps it quieter around here. It’s not that they’re bad people. They’re not. They’re okay, I guess. But they’re sooo incurious… That I don’t understand.

Anyway, it has been a beautiful, quiet kind of day with blue skies, fluffy clouds and a nice gentle breeze. Except for the dog being as much of a pest as he’s capable of being, the day would be a ‘ten.’ Poor doggy. It has to be crummy to be a dog. No speech for chatting congenially, no hands and fingers with which to type, no indoor plumbing, and very unappetizing food which appears when we’re ready and not necessarily when he thinks it’s time. On the other hand, he doesn’t have to answer the telephone and suffer telemarketers and politicians. He doesn’t have to worry about whether his deodorant is working. And he doesn’t have to suffer the slings and arrows of small minded people. He doesn’t have to worry about adequate healthcare, rising grocery prices and whether the car will break down. Hmmmn, guess it is a dog’s life after all…