Pasterized Existence

Pasteurized Existence

 

I find it interesting that it is but 10 am and all my important tasks are done.  Now I reflect, how is this different from the domestic chore keeper, be it my wife or daughter or stay@home-Dad.  Organized and capable of so much more, and yet this is it.  Before noon, and the essentials inside the box and 4-walls are done.  Has me thinking, and it feels good to have extra-energy and time to think, and project out to an open field, all the parameters and elements of an alternative existence.  Having said that, my thoughts go in a multitude of directions, swept into the vast out-there and suddenly it seems as if I am free. 

 

Free to the extent I have until the children are out of school, or free until the next catastrophe beckons, or free until my feet give out on me, and I am required to sit and be.  This is where I find myself just now.  Sitting.  Computer and screen life call to me, and for a minute I wasn’t sure, but now I am.   Life as I know it is a process, and it depends on electricity and other forms of energy that make of the grid.  Process and don’t really mean pasteurized takes the viral out of my day, but there seems to be enough bread and milk and things to eat available. 

 

Home Delivery and in many way my world has become smaller and smaller.  Computer and keyboard and I can reach out, have performance-on-demand, provided of course I can pay for it.  And that in a nutshell is all about me.  Time to turn the other cheek and lean towards you.

 

End of the month and technology has enabled me.  How so, and it is just the balanced equation of our modern day.  Some work.  Some stay home.  Others are looking for work, but so far they just have to stay busy and hope something will turn up.  Spring and Summer and this opens the door to the Great Outdoors.  Field and Stream and empty lot, where the kids can play and expend energy if you can get them away from their phone or screen that avails them all they need.  Social media and a good connection, and a time out from the hassle and bustle of this busy world they have been born into. 

 

Modern day and life, and we can milk things for that little extra, and benefit without because that is what happens when the nation you live in is civilized and prosperous, and thrives on law and order, and perhaps we can even say, democracy and personal freedom, and so this is where we find ourselves in the moment.  Pasteurized existence is my banner line.  Not sure what it means to you, but even so I will just expand the mood and the moment to included you.  As I said.  Have turned the other cheek.  Am leaning towards you.

 

Frequently asked questions and was reading somewhere recently, that Castro in Cuba now thinks:  The End Is Near.  And it has me thinking and can’t help myself and just have to say.  “Dude, it is 2016.  You have outlived Kennedy and he had the CIA.”  And suddenly it comes into perspective for me.  Homogenized.  Pasteurized.   Sanitized.   The primitive world has been tamed.  If it is still 3^rd world downstream raw and dirty and without sewer treatment, then pure and simple I just can’t relate.  And that happens.  Scattered thoughts from a scattered mind, and am not sure why it is front page new that Castro derives no pleasure with the state of his existence off the tip of Florida and now on good terms with his nearest neighbor with all the nukes.    Frequently asked question:  “What have you done for me today?”

 

Having been avoiding the obvious and think perhaps we still have a lot of choice and independence in the state and place, I am.  I am free to come and go, and yet here I am in front of my computer sharing time with people I don’t even know.  How good is that?  I can tell you that my greatest fear is being put out to Pasteur in a field of plenty with nothing else to do but stand around, and wait for the next great wind to push me off my mark.  Done with the major part of the Month of April.  Fool’s Day has passed.  Got a flyer in the mail that wanted to inform me about how powdered milk is made, and of course that discussion lasted as long as it took me to find the wastebasket and dispose of that days junk mail.  Comes in the mail mostly, and weights the postal carrier down.

 As for me, I am good.  Have gotten over most of my complaints about what modern live should and shouldn’t be.  Am content.  I have you.  Now only if I can remember your name, and my current password I can tell you how much you mean to me.

 

Turn the other cheek.  Lean in your direction.  What happens next is part of the great mystery for me.  It is not yet 11 am.  Too early for lunch.  Too early to take a nap.   Too late for everything else.  And this leaves me wondering, “How you doing?  Better than Me?”