I'm Just Going To Leave This Right Here: The Bored Edition

I have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone. I love that I can have it with me all the time. If someone needs to reach me there are a myriad of ways to do so all accomplished via that phone. I hate though that I have my phone with me all the time. It really serves as a distraction to so much more that is going on around me so much so that I often revert to that little world with it’s little screen out of habit much like an addict.

I know that the phone at times separates me from those who mean the most to me. My wife or daughter may be trying to tell me something but I am wrapped up trying to locate the song lyrics to some Dire Straits song from 1979. It may be time to go somewhere but I am consumed with trying to spell a word with the letters U, H, two Vs, two As and a C to finally beat the computer at Scrabble.

Mostly though I think I have realized that the phone has come to fill in all the empty spaces I recognize in-between the times I am doing something worthwhile. In other words, when I feel I am bored I pull out my phone so I can check my home email accounts, my work email account and browse Facebook again after only having gone through the exact same routine five minutes earlier.

The trade-off for me seems to be that now with no downtime from “boredom” I very rarely give many things the deep consideration some of them deserve. I mean what had I really rather do: give long, serious thought to the issues of the day or look-up a TV commercial from 1976 on YouTube? Do I really want to think of a plan to fix the door frames around our garage or do I want to study the icons on my weather app in case I quickly need to determine the barometric pressure?

In an earlier time we likened being bored with watching paint dry or watching grass grow. Somehow though we made it through that kind of boredom without our minds becoming mush. It seemed like we had more time, and respect, for one another. And, for me, it seemed like so many of the things in life I really needed to think about somehow had time to percolate long enough for an answer.

So, maybe you are like me. The phone is great but it can also be a thief of time and consideration. Maybe you know you really do not have a burning need to look at Twitter to see what a cesspool of unchecked thought looks like today. Maybe you know turning on the compass app on your phone then turning it this way and that just to watch it spin means you need to focus on something more substantial. If you recognize these things maybe it is time to press the reset button and you can do so by using your phone.

If you find you are bored because you are constantly picking up your phone then wasting time put the phone to good use. Click one of the links below to watch the grass grow or paint dry. When you start a video, set the phone down so you can let your mind turn to something you need to do. Better yet, turn off the video, put the phone down then go do something for somebody who could really need the company or help only you can provide that person.

I’ll just leave this right here in case you need it. No charging necessary.

Ten hours of watching paint dry 

Ten hours of watching grass grow 

Ode To The Meatloaf Sandwich

With apologies to food connoisseurs and poets everywhere and a big tip of the hat to my wife, Jennifer, for always making enough meatloaf so I can have a sandwich for lunch the next day.

Ode To The Meatloaf Sandwich

If I could sing of your deliciousness

Failure would occur, my mouth would be stuffed.

This would drive friends to a maliciousness

Making them grumble enough is enough.

Worktime lunchbreak is all that fills my mind

From your formation then to dinner plate

I knew we would cross paths again real soon.

Leftovers left behind.

The truth is I can hardly concentrate

Until the hands on the clock say it’s noon.

Meatloaf sandwich, you are the star of lunch

Shine brighter than Gladys Knight and her Pips.

So good I feared I might eat you for brunch

You sure do add zip to some tater chips.

Slather mayo, Hellman’s, Dukes, J-F-G

Smash together the bread, white, maybe, wheat.

Left behind supper scraps are best served cold.

Yes, I’d love some sweet tea.

Certain, I am, this lunch cannot be beat

Remaining so as the years will unfold.

Understand I don’t intend to be rude

Ten minute midday break, hard to find rest.

Keep your frozen dinners, keep your fast food

I’ll unwrap the foil to reveal the best.

Now don’t think I need some sort of cure,

No, don’t analyze, don’t tear it apart.

I know I do not know everything

But one thing I’m so sure.

My stomach understands, so does my heart

At lunch, the meatloaf sandwich, is the king.

Let's eat, y'all.

As The Picture Turns

Really, it’s just an ordinary picture of me and Jennifer. Frankly, it’s not my favorite picture of the two of us either. It was taken at a Christmas party hosted by her employer. On that December evening, we dressed up a bit, left Hannah with family then drove downtown. Once at our destination we gathered in small groups for informal conversation as many of those Jennifer works beside day-to-day arrived to the large decorated ballroom. Some made their way to the food tables, starting first with appetizers. The event also included a larger buffet style dinner. As the dining became more serious, folks would locate a table, gathering together to share a meal over more conversation. For those who imbibe tickets to the bar were provided. Dessert was also available, as if there isn’t enough sweet food during this particular season. Later in the evening, door prizes would be handed out in the spirit of the holiday. Even later, a large part of the ballroom would become a dance floor as a deejay accepted requests then cranked out the tunes while some folks got their groove on.

Before the dance tunes bounced off the walls making further conversation difficult, there was a small part of the ballroom reserved for photographs so that the moment could be memorialized in some way. It was mostly a no-frills situation. A small decorated Christmas tree stood a short ways from a wall. With the dim overhead lighting, any photograph taken would have a soft look and feel about it. As the evening progressed, Jennifer and I waited until the line for pictures dwindled some before we made our way to that spot. We stood in front of the tree then took a step or two to our left to add a bit of perspective to the background. We then smiled waiting for the photographer to work his magic. We returned to our table as we watched the party unfold.

Sometime later the picture made it’s way to our home. It was placed in a gold frame. For a time I recall it sat in our bedroom alongside other pictures of our life together. Without me noticing, it disappeared.

Then one night after giving Hannah a goodnight kiss and hug, I saw it in her room on a table near her bed. I remember smiling at the thought that our little girl had a picture of us in her room. Then, again, without noticing, something about that picture changed.

One night after the goodnight kiss and hug, I turned to leave only to see that the picture of me and Jennifer taken one December at a Christmas party was turned around so that it faced Hannah’s bed. This meant if you walked into the room, looked at the table where the picture was located that you would see the side and back of the picture frame. It also meant that Hannah could lay in bed and look at that picture to see her mom and dad in a captured moment from days gone by.

When I noticed the odd placement of the picture, I turned to Hannah to ask if she wanted me to straighten it up so that it looked more in order with how things should look. She said she wanted the picture to stay the way it was because the way it was turned at that moment meant that when she missed her mom and dad she could look at that picture and not miss us.

And with the words of a five-year-old ringing in my ears and taking root in my heart, I realized I might just like that picture better than what I once thought I did.

When school started this year, Hannah had a few weeks without any real homework assignments. Then, one day we were told by her teacher that at the end of the week, an assignment was due. Hannah would bring home a paper bag. She would then need to fill it with five things that described her so that her teacher and classmates could learn a bit more about her.

The night before the assignment was due we worked with Hannah to gather things for her homework. As we placed a few items into the bag, she left the living room for a moment. When she returned she was carrying the picture that sits beside her bed. Jennifer and I removed the picture from the frame then helped Hannah put it in the bag.

The next day, Hannah would pull five items from a bag to show her class then in her suddenly shy voice say something about each item including the picture that somehow gives her comfort before she falls asleep each night.

Later, sometime down in the evening, I pulled the paper bag from her backpack. I rustled through it's contents so I could find that Christmas picture. I straightened it out as best as I could. I then located it's frame and placed the photo in it's home. I looked it over one more time. I still think we have had better pictures as a couple. I still find nothing ordinary about it when I look at it. Now though I know when our daughter looks at that picture she sees past the soft overhead lighting and the weird angle of the Christmas tree. I understand she now sees a part of who she is in that picture.

I took the picture to her room. I sat it down on the table beside her bed. Before I left, I turned it toward her bed, just in case she needs it when she can't sleep.