They told me it would be mean to suggest starting a Gofundme to educate a person whose house burned down because they once had a Gofundme they used in addition to the insurance money they got for their shack.
I said I disagreed and said the other party wouldn’t get it because they are so profoundly ignorant it wouldn’t occur to them I might be referring to them.
“Are you sure about that? Do you really think they are dumb?”
“Nah, I think they are two steps below dumb and one above profoundly stupid.”
“You really know how to win friends and influence people. Some of them are as smart or smarter than you are and they will expect you to burn down your own house.
Because it is a tactic they’ll try to confuse you. They’ll say you can’t demand balance if you don’t prove you can criticize your own. Be aware of it, because most won’t do as you do. They’ll let you set the fire and never reciprocate.”
I nodded my head and said I wasn’t worried because I don’t expect the minions and cultists to change their mind because I pointed out how weak their positions are.
Some years back the old man and I had a conversation about differences of opinion with others. He was very succinct.
“Some people are too fucking stupid to waste time with. If you know you are right there is no point in wasting your time. Remember what I said.”
I laughed and he rolled his eyes at me.
“I don’t understand why you take pleasure in fighting with them.”
“Who said I do.”
“You must or you wouldn’t do it. Remember too fucking stupid doesn’t always reflect their intelligence. Some are sharper than you but they refuse to do anything with space between their ears.
You won’t reach them with a hammer and you won’t reach them with a saw.
Fuck ’em and move on.”
He isn’t and wasn’t wrong but he never enjoyed any of this. It was nonsense to him and the reality is that sometimes I do enj0y it.
Not really sure why, but occasionally I enjoy the back and forth and even the trolling.
And as I told Dad, every now and then I have learned something. Every now and then I have changed a mind or even had my own changed.
Perspective can be adjusted and there are benefits to it, but I don’t expect it.
One of these days I’ll have to tell SQ about playing our song and how sometimes I just hear it. One of these days I am sure there will be a conversation in person about all sorts of stuff.
Because I know things and I am a damn good fire dancer.
But I confess to not being a particularly good guitar player. Hell, I don’t think I can play a damn lick of anything.
Can’t really play piano, saxophone or drums either. Done ok blowing a Shofar.
Can’t read music or write it using notes, but I think I can probably come up with lyrics and I can hear a symphony in my head so in theory I could put it on paper.
I think about it.
I picture performing it or having it performed.
There is a story to be told and I know something about that.
I could write a tale about a vacation in a beach town somewhere, sundresses, good food and time to sit and unwind.
There is a story about a possible future and opportunity.
Days like today make me think about it, 130 miles around town and 8,000 steps to pick up and place things.
I think about the day when I shave or don’t shave head and face solely based upon whim and not upon requirement.
Closer to it than ever, but still too far.
But it is coming.