A Moment Of Dishonest Truth

Met an Irishman today and told him if I had an accent like his I’d get into all kinds of trouble.

He asked me if it was a moment of dishonest truth and I said no, in America that accent and I would have all sorts of fun getting into mischief.

At least I think he said dishonest truth, fact is I am not entirely certain that is what I heard.

I d0n’t know about you but dishonest truth sounds like it should be part of some classic Irish folk tale or folk wisdom.

It could be quite compelling, especially if it was paired with music.

*****

Reminds me of a wedding we went to many years ago.

The bride’s parents had both emigrated to America from Ireland.

Quite a few of their family flew out from Ireland to help celebrate which made for quite the medley of accents and voices at the party.

That medley and the loud noise is the only explanation I can find for explaining why one of the bartenders asked me what part of Ireland I am from.

A Moment Of Dishonest Truth

It was an interesting week filled with some significant moments.

Some of it ranks as being among the hardest moments of recent times, primarily because of betrayal.

It wasn’t all bad and some of it was quite good and I feel like I started gaining some traction in some areas that I have been working hard upon.

And then midway through it all there was a moment where I saw two friends fighting on Facebook about Trump and it got me thinking.

Thinking about how some friends refuse to share anything online about their political beliefs because they fear the consequences.

It is a moment of dishonest truth and it is disappointing.

How many times do we self censor what we say and who we share it with. How many times does fear make us hold back.

I suppose this is tied into why I am so selective in who I really speak with.

It also has had me thinking about what would happen if I had enough money in the bank to comfortably retire now.

The answer is pretty simple, I would remove all of the filters.

Still I don’t need the filters to know who is important to me and who isn’t.

I don’t need filters to tell those who are that I am here to listen and or help.

Ideally it is understood, but if it is not I would tell them. To me it is better to have a few really good friends than a lot of acquaintances.

Things Happen

A guy I went to elementary school died yesterday or the day before.

I don’t know all of the details and won’t lie and say he was somebody I was close to because it is not true.

Instead I’ll say he was a guy in his forties and that his life was cut short far too soon.

I’ll say I know/knew a bunch of people who died young and I can’t figure out if statistically it is normal or abnormal.

That sounds horribly insensitive and it is not meant to be, it is just me trying to figure out how to make sense of it.

My grandparents hit a point in time where death of their friends and contemporaries was common.

We talked about it and I remember them sharing their thoughts about what it was like to know they were so much closer to the end than the starting line.

I love the song and the sentiment but in spite of what some people might think I am more focused upon the present and future than the past.

Looking back offers experience as guidance and some fine memories, but the goal is to make and collect new ones.

It is to remember the length of our threads are unknown so we have to act now upon the important stuff and that is what I have done and continue to do.

Life is one hell of a ride.