I don't know where I'd be, if I hadn't accepted change ... a lot of change ... make that changes ... along the way.
I can remember when television was just an idea ... something far, far down the road.
Likewise the idea of sitting at a keyboard (I'd done that, thank you very much) ... but with the typed words appearing on a screen, much like a TV screen, in front of the writer.
Yeah, sure. I could accept the concept, but had serious doubts about ever witnessing such a thing in my lifetime.
And here I am, sitting at a keyboard, watching as the letters turn into words and the cursor keeps crawling across the screen.
Oh, and the idea of someone ... a human being ... actually ever setting foot on the moon.
I came to accept that as reality, too.
I've even learned to accept some of the fashions I've seen over the years ... not for me, though ... but for others.
But I think it's the smaller things ... smaller, personal things ... and I won't go into detail here ... except to say that they involve habits, like hanging onto old magazines long after I've finished reading them ... or picking up a pencil or a crayon someone has lost near a school ... things like that ... habits that I simply find hard to give up.
Oh, and yes, the other day, as I finally discarded a watercolor brush which had worn out eons ago, it occurred to me that perhaps I should get some sworn statements from witnesses.
How else was I to convince Phyllis that I had thrown something ... anything ... away?
And I guess we might as well include my inclination to say I won't go into detail ... and then unleash an avalanche of detail. I find it hard to break that habit, too.
I guess you get the idea. I find it hard to accept change ... in certain areas.
Meanwhile, the poem:
I'm not always
a willing partner,
but I must go
with the times,
leaving a trail
of scuff marks
where I've been
(originally published in Capper's)
Today's word: change