Two of The Untouchables

Time, like written music, is manufactured by man to understand that which cannot be seen or touched.  Let's see if I can explain the comparison, not that the intelligence of my average reader can fail to grasp the concept with a single statement.  Sometimes illustration serves to solidify a point.  When I hear music and have an instrument placed in my hands, I know instinctively what to do to reproduce the sound I hear. For some of the general population this is not possible.  They need to see the music in written representation in order to know which notes to play to reproduce the sound they hear.  Someone first must "translate" the sound into visible language on a page so it can be read and then reproduced.  I have entire symphonies in my head, but lack the ambition and will to put them on paper (that takes a particular talent as well, trust me).  If I want to share my music with others I must produce it in it's natural form.....   sound.  Now, another musician can hear my music and reproduce it, adding their own personal flare, style, interpretation of what they hear.  To me, this is the greatest form of art, where the personalities of two like talents join to create something new, better.  If evolution exists, this is a prime illustration.  The final stage that completes this, and any, piece of man's purest art is the listener.  A particular piece of music is created from and produces a general emotion, a general feel; however, it is transformed and shaped by each listener's individual mood, mixed with a complex pattern of memories that only the particular listener has and ever can experience.  Man, if that could be translated into a security key it would be unbreakable

Ok, I got distracted.  We were discussing time, at least as a single word.  Time is merely an historical record of events, when you think about it.  Analytic man had to find a way to measure time's passage so that he could impart stories of the past with as much accuracy and perspective as possible in the simplest form possible: linear.  First this, then next, then that, follow by......  you get the picture.  The large majority of Science Fiction writers use time as a marker to represent their creative thought for events that have not yet occurred, but the purpose is still to mark a sequence of events.  Some folks focus so much on the passage of time they become keenly (and unhealthily) aware of their own place along the timeline.  Such souls never allow themselves the simple pleasure of slowing down and enjoying their surroundings or appreciating the events unfolding around them.  On the other end of the spectrum are those that live without any thought whatsoever of tomorrow and find themselves filled with regret for missed opportunities.  I suppose the trick is to live one day at a time savoring every moment with those that make life sweet and interesting, naturally combining those experiences to affect others in such a way that the piece carries on with them to a fruitful, life-changing, continuous evolution.

Time...    the music of life.  

Level Ground

It's 11:25 on a Friday night. The time when the party set is just getting warmed up. Bands are playing their best sets, hook-ups are firming, groups of girlfriends are tightening their bonds, and the guys going home alone are just getting the clue they may have to settle or lose out.

I'm sitting in my living room, lights off, glow from the laptop two feet in front of me, Road to Perdition in High Def 15 feet in front of me. It's an oddly symmetrical scene from my vantage point. My coffee sits awaiting breaks in the flow of words, slowly cooling, not caring that I'd rather have it as hot as it came out of the pot. It's usually at this point when deep thoughts bubble up and give me pause. Thoughts about the future and where I might be going; thoughts about the past and where I've been; remembrance of the fierce loyalty of friends and the bitter betrayals of those thought to be; speculation on current acquaintances; joy in the sure knowledge of trust given and received to and by a precious few.

I realize, all in all, there's balance. I'm not necessarily thrilled with every twist and turn I've taken through life, nor the paths I've been forced down. But the hard times have made me strong, and the good times have buoyed me when I've needed it most. There are few people I trust completely, and they know who they are. There are a few more that I let in to a degree, and I'm fine with what I allow. There are many who are arm's length and will remain so. I don't imagine I'm any different in this regard from most who would read this; only the details would be different, but life in and of itself is the same sort of roller coaster for all of us. It's how we deal with the ride that defines us. My advice? Stay on. Let it finish. You'll find yourself on level ground on a Friday night sometime while the rest of the world is riding. Take advantage of the break before the next run, don't hesitate when it's time to get on again, and.....


......enjoy the ride.