Traditionalists

I’m sitting in a nearly perfect situation here in my kitchen. The gorgeous day is spilling through the windows at my feet. People are out walking with their lovers, kids and dogs. The Silver Maple is starting to bud.

I’m sipping on a cup of Folders Gourmet Selections  Vanilla Biscotti coffee. I wouldn’t consider this the ideal coffee, but it’s good. Rather than being sold in a giant tin, like Folders usually does, it’s sold in the small bags like all other good coffee. I’m using my big(ger) mug. To me, coffee only come in large mugs.

I am home alone.

I rarely … RARELY … have time to myself unless I’m driving. This may or may not be the focal point of why I enjoy driving so much.

I have my cell phone, iPod Touch, Macbook and Bible sitting in front of me. These things give me my lovely fiance (and any other people), infinite information, the world, salvation and a glimpse of God’s heart. All of these things are withing an arm’s reach. In a matter of seconds, I can:

  • tell Sarah a stupid knock-knock joke
  • read about Elijah killings 300 prophets of Baal
  • play Doodle Jump
  • read the NIV Bible electronically or physically
  • demand everyone I know to listen to Gypsy Eyes by Jimi Hendrix
  • explore God’s love

I have everything available to me along side a wonderful cup’o’joe.

I have four avenues to read the Bible. Three of them are electronic. ONE feels right. I admit – I do read on my iPod, but only my big ass Bible feels right.

The physical nature of the book connects with people on an entirely different level than a book online, on a blackberry, or an iPod/ iPad does. Yeah, this is nothing new, but it is still worth addressing. I don’t think, and certainly HOPE, the physical print will never end. If you took away my ability to hold, fold, tear, turn, whatever something in physical print, I’d feel more like the middle child I am. Reading something electronically feels like I’m disconnected to the breadth of whatever I’m reading.

I realize this post is nothing worthwhile, and poorly written, but I couldn’t care less. Sometimes, I need to sit down and hurl an idea, regardless of the little amount of thought I’ve given it. My sucks me dry and dampens any creative thought I have. So I rarely have the motivation to write well anymore. It’s sad. It’s why I’m looking for a new job.

Pray I find one that doesn’t squelch creativity or crush a soul.

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