Analog

For the first time in a long time, I've had the time to read.  It started when I finished a National Geographic I had started reading a year ago.  Then I decided to pick up a a book I'd started long ago.  The book, State of Confusion finally gave me the ability to understand the popularity of things like Fox News, something I'd never understood.  This insight inspired me to read the next several books.  The next one on my list taught me to interpret body language during conversations.  Krista Tippett's "Speaking of Faith" reminded me of the way I used to approach conversations about religious beliefs.  Even though I've grown up watching national news, I've never really understood how it works.  "How to Watch TV News" has changed that. Between every book that I've read since March, I've read an issue of National Geographic or two.  For the first time in years, it took me only one week to read an issue cover-to-cover.  Then I

The closest I've ever been to becoming a super hero was when I gained powers after being bitten by a snail. That was the worst summer ever.

We should run government like a business? How about like a successful non-profit? Don't know the difference? Don't run for office.

So I'm sitting in a restaurant yesterday, enjoying a late breakfast and I overhear this conversation between a woman and a six-year-old girl. It makes me realize I don't care how most people talk to kids. Then it occurs to me that I don't like how most adults speak to one another. Upon contemplating this, I realize it goes deeper than that: I just don't like how most people think. This either makes me an elitist, an alien, or a combination of both ... like an alien with a high opinion of his race. My new name is Zim. Call me Zim.

I can't tell you how many times I've started this blog post or how often I've refused to write anything else until I finished this one.  I've been plotting it out since May 2013.  It's why I haven't posted anything since last March.  The thing that's been tripping me up is that this blog post is supposed to be a eulogy.  When you really get down to it, a eulogy is a good-bye.  And I think the reason I can't write it is that I'm not ready to say good-bye at all. Becky Braun has always been the kind of friend you can count on and the support that my family has needed.  For those selfish reasons, I'm not willing to let her go just yet.  It wasn't clear to me why I wasn't writing until until this fall when my cousin dropped off her father's camera for me.  My uncle, Denny Olszewski passed away several years ago, but it wasn't until I had his camera in my hands that I realized I hadn't ever been ready to tell him good-bye eithe