Saturday, September 27, 2008

So there has been some speculation as to why I called my blog "Nix Bones". I asked the question, and Craig made a good stab for it, and if anyone is to get the prize of two penguin pelts, its him. Nix Bones refers to that idyllic moment in the hallowed movie Willow, where the High Elwin wizard decides the fate of their village by tossing chicken bones on the floor and reading them. This is significant for two reasons.
First
, I make no representation that my posts are or will ever be coherent, intelligent or in any way understandable. Understanding these ramblings and trying to ascertain any sketch of my life or fragile mental state would be just as fruitful as trying to understand me by reading a samonilla riddled pile of nasty chicken bones.
Secondly
and more succinctly, I believe that my life has been pushed to and fro by decisions as scientific as if I were reading a pile of bones. Most of us are in same boat. We do what seems intelligent or divinely inspired in the moment and ten years later we realize that that particular decision was Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely believe that if we live worthily of being led by a higher power, it will be so, and success will come. My point is that when looking back, most of these decisions could have been one way or the other, and it was just a small, almost imperceptible divine nudge in one direction that made the difference. And on most of those decisions that were not of divine import, it was throwing the bones.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Continuing mid-life crisis

I have been a very bad blogger. I am not nearly as dedicated as I should be. Whenever I go to blog, I end up wanting to say things that truly should not be for public consumption. You know, those little thoughts that nag at you, that you wish to speak to someone "out there" in the anonymous internet cloud, only to realize that if your mother in law, or your sister-in-law who would immediately report to your mother-in law, found out what you said or thought, you would be in deep doo-doo. So yeah, I try to write but get pre censored. . . .Uh oh, it is date time and my wife is rifling through my wallet. Gotta go.