Between classes this afternoon, I was reading a friend's blog about how nothing has really changed in the past few weeks. Great, nothing happening is better than than dam breaking and the village meeting its great reward under a billion gallons of water. I went to class with a little brighter demeanour, but that was all.
Class was, as usual, informative and wholly overwhelming. So it goes with new material. Stay positive. I am going to school to gain the tools and knowledge to actually make a difference in this world. I know, the world needs ditch diggers too, and without them we would be waist deep in our own shit, but no one remembers Diamitus Shitterius, the first guy to start digging the Cloaca Maxima. People think of the Romans and it gives them a warm fuzzy to think about all the neat inventions they made that allow us our modern basic conveniences of toilets, fresh water, and hedonism.
I got on the bus for the ride home with several points of contract law going through my head and colliding with each other in a scene reminiscent of Scanners. I instinctively said "Good Afternoon" to the shuttle driver, and plopped down in the back of the bus. The seat was warmer than my posterior. I had sat directly in a seat occupied by someone not a minute before me.
I immediately inhaled deeply through my nose. For some reason, I relate the heat of a freshly vacated seat to the ghosts of farts past being released upon disturbance. If there is such a haunting, it usually stinks and I get blamed, or at least judged. Why I inhale in expectation of the event, I can only think that maybe if I filter the air around me via my nose and lungs, the fallout from a previous occupants transgressions will be lessened. It's purely a selfish way to preserve my dignity.
But I digress.
The point is, barring a fart from the past, that I am taking the heat from some stranger for no other reason than I randomly chose to sit there. It's a feeling that is creepy in one respect, but mildly reassuring in another. By existing and sitting, someone before me helped me keep warm by transplanting their heat to a seat that I quickly occupied. Even passively, people help other people out. I find that comforting.
1 comment:
Interesting point.
I agree.
I am never more aggravated than when I hear someone say, "I did it on my own." I mean, that's great for a fifth grader to say about a science fair project. The fifth grader cannot see the bigger picture of how mom and dad shelter them and feed them and encourage them to achieve in school. They fail to account for the role their friends play in the positive reinforcement of their desires or of the people they attend church with when they affirm shared beliefs. They even fail to acknowledge that, perhaps, the government fosters their education and sound development because it has a vested interested in its citizenry being well adjusted and intelligent.
But you can allow a fifth grader to miss these points. Not an adult.
Holy crap. I just looked down and realized I was standing on a soap box. Pardon me.
Anyway... yes, I agree.
And I always thank the bus driver.
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