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December 19, 1999

A Matter of Perspective

Some writing styles appeal to me more than others. The Gods of biting sarcasm died in my universe decades ago. When I first became aware of the people in the world around me I was fascinated by clever scornful commentary. It seemed so intelligent; it seemed to address the real issues. That was what I thought in my youth when everything new was shiny. Since then I have developed distaste for this type of human observation. I have come to see that this type of assessment of the human condition almost always fails to distinguish between those who lack humanity and those who lack complexity. I have come to remember the beauty of simplicity and would not have it sullied by a lack of discernment.

I saw a little piece of news on an Internet site today; it stated that a well-known computer mogul was one of 1999's biggest newsmakers. I contemplated this news while sitting in my bathroom. Biggest seems to hold some significance in our culture. "Well," I thought to myself, "I have a biggest right here in this room!" The type of seating used by the biggest number of people in North America today is the toilet seat. It enjoys universal popularity. That popularity varies not by ability, age, gender, race, color or creed. Talk about biggest, it's a household word!

Yesterday I made pie dough. It went into the refrigerator and came out today to be made, by Attila, into two apple pies. One apple pie is to be for Christmas dinner. The other apple pie will be eaten tonight. As we finished our dinner, dessert was served. Attila had made the second pie with one crust, on the top. He explained, rather proudly as he served this delicacy, that we were eating a "half-the-fat pie". And you know, I think it is even better this way!

Attila has been very eloquent tonight. During our walk this evening we delivered a Christmas present to our friends Mike and Auntie Mame. The walk, there and back, is about a mile long. When we arrived at their house, Auntie Mame was fast asleep. We stood inside the front door, Mike, Attila and I, exchanging pleasantries and enjoying our chat. As we said our good-byes and prepared to take our leave and walk home, Attila explained, "When you eat like a pig, you need to walk like a horse." We all laughed. During our walk home Attila had time to think about what he had said. He explained that what he meant to say was, if you walk like a horse, you can eat like a pig. Hmm... There may be some merit in the saying that it's not what you say but how you say it.