An Imperfect Mind, The Hypothesis we Favor, Thank you, Mrs. Hunt

“It does take great maturity to understand that the opinion we are arguing for is merely the hypothesis we favor, necessarily imperfect, probably transitory, which only very limited minds can declare to be a certainty or a truth.”
— Milan Kundera

Well, well, well, it’s Wednesday, how are you, my friend? It’s been a few days.  Tuesday was here yesterday; she said to tell you hi, just passing on the message, you look terrific. Cindy is here, our first guest often, remember my wife organizes a horse/yoga trip annually; this is the week, nine more ladies will arrive today, I’m heading south to telluride with my friend tomorrow.

We worked until 4:30, then headed down the hill; Bay was here, she picked up Cindy from Union Station.  We hiked Meyers Ranch and then headed to Brooks for a bit of bite to eat. After that, Bay headed back to the condo, and the three of us got home to watch some Dee Gees.

I ran an appointment with a new client yesterday.  They are starting a school; they recently learned that they no longer pledge allegiance in school.  This, along with the teaching of CRT, upset the folks enough to invest in starting their school.   There will be no masks at this school; if you are upset at your local school system, understand alternatives exist.

I can’t imagine having a child in school these days, strange times indeed.   Speaking of kids, I got to chat with my granddaughter last night.  Maylynn said hi; she was drinking a large bottle of milk, whole milk according to her father, my son, it was good to catch up.

I’ve got a couple of meetings today; then I head to Bowles avenue for an errand. After that, I will work, meditate, and self-reflect on this beautiful life, something bigger than myself has given.  I do not take it for granted; I’m aware of my blessings and gifts.  I suspect you, too, have a beautiful existence; people in peril rarely find my work.

Speaking of people in peril, how about the love governor of New York.  The hero, the man who killed thousands and was taken down due to his love of the human body.  I love the human body as well, but you can’t grope others without their consent.  This is a good lesson, a reminder to believe all women unless their name is Tara Reid.  Oh no, he didn’t.

So how are you? What’s going on in your world? Is the current situation giving you a boost or a point of reflection? Either is fine; remember, everything that happens can be turned into a gift or opportunity.  If you don’t believe it, well, I’m sorry, research Maslow and find your path.

I’m sitting in a room alone; there are four bean bags in a row; I’m sitting on the one next to the fireplace.  It’s warm today, no need for the fire, but it’s a button away if needed.  My wife and Cindy are outside chatting; I can hear them, not sure what they are saying; they are high school friends and catching up after a long time apart.  Is there a friend you should reach out to today?  These words are your reminder, contact someone that you have not spoken to in a long time.

Some days my mind spits out words like the government creates money; today is not one of those days. I must share the words are slow to come, but I will find a way to throw a thousand words at you; just give me time.

I ran a call with John yesterday, a man from the east coast.  He asked if I researched him, I shared I did not.  I never research someone before a call; my gut will tell me if they are a good fit for my life.  I think too many salespeople spend their time researching and not connecting with strangers.  Just my two “sense.”

The smoke is thick these days; we can no longer see Denver from our home.  We can see maybe a mile, and then a thick haze of smoke from the wildfires blocks our view.  If I were NPR, I would go on a rant about climate change, but I’m not NPR; thank the good lord.  NPR has a trifecta of a narrative; if you are paying attention, every story has a tinge of race, climate change, and covid. 

It has come to my attention that we missed trash day.  My wife is not happy, I’m Lassze fair, but with ten folks staying the next few days, it might have been nice to have our trash picked up. Wait, full stop!  It is Wednesday; trash day is Thursday, tragedy avoided.

I must ask you why you bother; these are the words of an older man, just riffing on the ways and means of society and my life.  Why do you return? Why do you spend any time reading these words?  It’s a mystery to me, but I’ll keep penning my thoughts; maybe when I die, someone will analyze why anyone bothered with this druther.   It is druther; I’m surprised you are still reading.

But alas you are, you might find a little value in my work, my daily penning of thoughts and ideas.  I have a following; I get fan mail now and then; I appreciate those that take the time to acknowledge my work; I’m just a cog in a vast machine.  

I want to share that Welcome to the Machine by Pink Floyd changed my life.  I’ll wrap with this.  As a young student at Ball State, I was given the assignment to dissect a poem, the poem I chose was the song by Pink Floyd.  That analysis awakened Mrs. Hunt.  Mrs. Hunt was my English 104 professor; she took a shine to me and advised me to stop acting dumb ass.  She informed me I was her brightest student, and if I could dispense with my behavior, I could be wildly successful. 

Well, Mrs. Hunt was right, after that little chat, I never got anything less than a B, up until that moment I was a C student, but those words, the power of someone looking me in the eye and saying, “wake you, you have value” changed my life. So I encourage you to find others with value and share your interpretation of their possible impact on society. So there I did it, 1053 words, clunky, I know, but sometimes I just riff on the thoughts in this imperfect mind.

“It does take great maturity to understand that the opinion we are arguing for is merely the hypothesis we favor, necessarily imperfect, probably transitory, which only very limited minds can declare to be a certainty or a truth.”
— Milan Kundera