1. I have no sense of nostalgia. Nada, Rien, Nyet, Zero, Zilch, Nil!Now most of you will recognize that number 2 is not a true observation about myself so much as a general perspective on the world. It is especially a true observation of the difference between men and women, to wit, women are crazy and men practical.
2. Scrapbooking is pure madness. It's absolutely nutso.
Now this supposition might meet with some outrage from the female part of our readership. Which considering our readership is one person at the current time could be a problem but I digress. However let me give you an example from my own personal experience to elucidate my argument.
Several months ago I decided I was dissatisfied with my photo collection. Said collection represented many years of memories. My experience as a young man in upstate New York, my two years in France, and my time since meeting Carolyn. Defining my life in these three paradigms allowed me to approach organizing pictures in a sequential manner. I therefore undertook the process of cataloguing my life. I bought a large photo album that would hold all of my photos from the first two periods and went through sequentially labelling the photos, including the individuals present and the date of the event as best as I could recall. This exercise proved invaluable at jogging my memory and within a few short weeks I was able to collect and place in a single album 95% of the photos from that time of my life.
My wife at that same time began the process of "scrapbooking". Now according to my understanding scrapbooking. Women put a couple photos on some colored paper, throw on some glitter, and then write in big bold letters expressions like "Bonding" or "Jazzersizing". Now beyond the fact I have no idea what those two words mean I see another problem with this whole experience.
Namely it takes about 10 hours for them to do one page!
In the space of time it took me to organize and label my entire life up to age 22, my dear wife did one "scrapbook" page!
Like I said pure madness!
Song of the day: Pourquoi Cette Pluie? by Idir. He's an Algerian musician that records primarily in France. I got the chance to meet him last time I was in Paris and was greatly impressed by the thoughtfulness of his music and the depth of his beliefs regarding the state of his country. Here's a link to a bad YouTube video of this song. I wish it was better but it was the best I could find:
And I swear one of these days I will address how I fell through the ceiling and why. It's an exciting story.