Eulogy for the Post That Never Was
You might not entirely believe what I'm about to tell you, but my Firefox browser crashed last night before I could save a really terrific entry. Laughing out loud as I re-read it, I never imagined that it would be gone in less than an instant, but so it was. This will be, therefore, a funeral post, dedicated to the fond remembrance of a quality bit of writing that never got a chance. It goes without saying that the enjoyability of What I See has been deprived by this terrible waste.
The most endearing things about it were its sublime hilarity and easy presentation. The subject matter was, of course, some bit of commentary regarding a mundane detail of everyday life, a thought that came to me as the result of several rain-abbreviated walks yesterday afternoon. It's fair to approach the idea's greatness with a suspicious eye, as I will admit that it essentially consisted of someone droning on about the weather--a potentially excruciating affair, to be sure. But you ought to know by now that I would never harangue my audience with dry, bland accounts about nature-related irritations. However, in this particular instance, something tied closely to the weather gave birth to a sudden, enlightened insight, casting a new take on the changing relationships within the series of perpetual movements that constitute modern urban life.
I was particularly proud of myself for this piece of writing, because my getting really bombed, meeting a varied assortment of characters, traveling to unknown lands, or temporarily impaling myself did not precipitate the writing of this piece. Rather, it was about how the mood of both objects and people undergo a transformation once the summer ends; how draperies of different varieties of shadow and moisture suddenly descend upon us; how light and shadows begin to play tricks on us with greater consistency; and how these things and our reactions to them effect the everyday motion of life. It was mainly a lament from my perspective, which has changed in recent years from loathing warm weather to quenching for it. It was, in part, a farewell to the summer and an introduction to the winter.
You might think to yourself, "Jeez! What a wuss! If he thinks it's cold now, what's he going to do in a month?" Pull back from this thinking, if you will, because that reaction fails to appreciate the depth of the point. I wasn't merely spewing gripes about the temperature; I still look forward to trudging through snow, or else I wouldn't be sticking around here too many weeks longer. I meant to muse upon the way the weather becomes something to interact and struggle with, about how its character undergoes an abrupt personality shift, from benign companion to adversarial contestant.
Now that the moment of its inspiration appears to have passed some time ago, I cannot seem to recreate the greatness of the post, and that is why I am holding this little funeral. In hindsight, the realization might not have been so great after all, because though I attempted just a few minutes ago to continue writing along in (what I thought was) the same vein, what resulted was simply this: a eulogy for the post that never was. There's nothing much I can do but forget about it, with the confidence that new and greater ideas lie ahead, possibly even within the hour.
Three cheers for the post that never was, and three more for the new posts that soon will be.
The most endearing things about it were its sublime hilarity and easy presentation. The subject matter was, of course, some bit of commentary regarding a mundane detail of everyday life, a thought that came to me as the result of several rain-abbreviated walks yesterday afternoon. It's fair to approach the idea's greatness with a suspicious eye, as I will admit that it essentially consisted of someone droning on about the weather--a potentially excruciating affair, to be sure. But you ought to know by now that I would never harangue my audience with dry, bland accounts about nature-related irritations. However, in this particular instance, something tied closely to the weather gave birth to a sudden, enlightened insight, casting a new take on the changing relationships within the series of perpetual movements that constitute modern urban life.
I was particularly proud of myself for this piece of writing, because my getting really bombed, meeting a varied assortment of characters, traveling to unknown lands, or temporarily impaling myself did not precipitate the writing of this piece. Rather, it was about how the mood of both objects and people undergo a transformation once the summer ends; how draperies of different varieties of shadow and moisture suddenly descend upon us; how light and shadows begin to play tricks on us with greater consistency; and how these things and our reactions to them effect the everyday motion of life. It was mainly a lament from my perspective, which has changed in recent years from loathing warm weather to quenching for it. It was, in part, a farewell to the summer and an introduction to the winter.
You might think to yourself, "Jeez! What a wuss! If he thinks it's cold now, what's he going to do in a month?" Pull back from this thinking, if you will, because that reaction fails to appreciate the depth of the point. I wasn't merely spewing gripes about the temperature; I still look forward to trudging through snow, or else I wouldn't be sticking around here too many weeks longer. I meant to muse upon the way the weather becomes something to interact and struggle with, about how its character undergoes an abrupt personality shift, from benign companion to adversarial contestant.
Now that the moment of its inspiration appears to have passed some time ago, I cannot seem to recreate the greatness of the post, and that is why I am holding this little funeral. In hindsight, the realization might not have been so great after all, because though I attempted just a few minutes ago to continue writing along in (what I thought was) the same vein, what resulted was simply this: a eulogy for the post that never was. There's nothing much I can do but forget about it, with the confidence that new and greater ideas lie ahead, possibly even within the hour.
Three cheers for the post that never was, and three more for the new posts that soon will be.
posted by Pat at 4:24 PM
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