Oftentimes we overlook the obvious looking for the spectacular. The best moments in life are not spectacular tidbits… flashes. Spectacular is like a beautiful firework that explodes and we all go… ahhhhhh.
The best moments in life are memories that stay with us and reappear on rainy days. Years later, we cannot remember the bust of lights as well as remember the people we were with, or what someone did or said.
We smile (again) when we recall how someone touched our heart with his or her smile. We fall in love all over again with memories of the way someone smelled. We hunger again for the food that no one cooks like grandma. We feel safe again knowing that papa is only a phone call away. We miss Rover or Fluffy’s quirky way of twisting their head when we needed to talk. We miss snow in winter, the beach in summer, or how fresh everything smells after the rain. We miss solitude or being with our friends. These things... we sometimes take for granted. In the time of distress, we forget how blessed we were to experience them.
The spectacular excites but for a moment and then the moment is gone. The things that really matter are the things that sustain us. They are etched, forever, in our minds.
Nothing takes me back like a BSOD. Warm, dependable, needy. The sound of my 14.4K modem connecting. The *feel* of telegard. Knowing that, even though the band sucked, the biggest messagebase on compuserve was the Greatful_dead. Playing Drink and Drown or Montezuma's Revenge on the Amiga64. "Getting" LOGO before anyone else. Lo-res. phreak. *.ZAN. ...the hell is a Zhit Axis? If only I could get this FutureCrew demo to work... "What? That's legacy? Hell, I can reboot my server with that with less than 400-lines of code!"
ReplyDeleteMost of what I have etched into my mind, like a crashed hard-drive, is what I didn't understand when it mattered. I remember wanting to know and not quite having what I needed to know it. Years later I acquire what I had needed to know what I needed to know and in that time what I've needed to know has changed and what I need to know it I no longer have... and still know nothing.
But I click, and sputter, and spin. Like a loyal, crashed hard-drive that needs to be shot in the head.