Whatever IV

There must be very few companies using the VOIP system we have, because a Google search for “who the hell composed this hold music” yields no hits. Unbelievable what we’ve been subjecting our callers to. We’ll have to address that post-haste.

Listen to the whole thing (read: abandon hope all ye who enter here).

Ever concerned with relevance, I asked a colleague this morning whether he was aware that according to Google, the number of web occurences of “chortling mightily” and “giggling timidly” are statistically identical. I wondered whether this signified some balance between the forces of masculine and emasculate humanity. But then I realize that these were not the only two divisions of humankind. There are also the bozos. So I searched for “guffawing uproariously,” and lo — statistically identical to the other two.

What are the odds?

We have a mulberry tree between ours and the neighbor’s house. I let it grow a few years ago, despite misgivings about its roots being so close to both homes. Each year I’ve pruned it in accord less with expertise than with intuition, in order to keep its growth under control and maximize berry production. Something fun for the kids to pick, I tell myself.

Actually it’s entirely for me, as it turns out. I find myself walking by the thing with my mind on a million other things, and I’m drawn to it. The berries are frequently difficult to see — but they’re there, and there’re lots of ‘em.

When I’m looking for mulberries, it’s an exercise in leaving the world behind. I can’t penetrate the hidden recesses of this tree without feeling a sense of privacy impossible in the world of instant messaging, fast commuting, and blog comments. It’s like discoving that the secret hiding places of childhood have never really went away. The secrets, however, are no longer my own, as in childhood. They’re the trees — and the tree isn’t speaking much about it all. Just offering its fruit, as ever, to any comer willing to leave some things behind for a while.

OK, time to get this blog rolling. “Rolling” with my blogging usually means very little — but I’ll try to do better.

This blog is going to be readable by everyone I know. This can be a way to have one’s integrity thrown against the wall (”will it stick?”); am I the same person among the various groups who know me? I’d imagine anyone reading this will find out new things, ’cause this blog will be the superset of me.  :-)