Data Points
What did we ever do before the internet? How did we discover the only way to cook scrambled eggs? Did we even care what four things rich people did? And what’s the criteria for a bad decision in TV, and why 50, why not just ten? And before you think I’m complaining, I find those lists mildly interesting but I’ll argue with the scrambled egg person because I’ve read The Food Lab by J. Kenzi Lopez-Alt and he’s a scientist who knows a lot about cooking and there’s more than one way to scramble an egg.
Anyway, you might divine by now I was having a hard time thinking of something to write about this morning when I sat down at the computer. Hardly unusual though at this time of year because everything appears to be dead, and there’s not a lot of poetry in that, unless you want to be morose and I’m not there this morning. Although, I have found that sad things tend to attract readers. That’s a puzzle. I’d really like to know why.
I suppose I can be excused this one time, because I’m in the ninth year of writing these almost daily bits of semi-nonsense and while I know I can wax poetic, be nostalgic, and tug at the heart strings I’m fairly certain that for a lot of people these essays have become something akin to white noise. On the other hand, however, who buys a shirt and looks at one thread? So, that’s how I view this. One data point, in a long arc and even the richest of lives has to have at least one boring day and maybe with that this wasn’t so boring after all.