A Summer of our Discontent?

 I have a birthday coming up soon. A week from Sunday is Father’s Day. I’m overdue to go fishing and get some more yard work done. This seems like a good time to take a semi-vacation from writing and reading social media. That may or may not apply here. Blogging, according to some, isn’t the same as social media. A significant part of the difference is long versus short form content. Now that I think about it a little, that’s hugely ironic and amusing. 

Back when I was in college, I learned that one should not begin an essay with dictionary definitions. Yet, today, I find no way to make my point but by referencing definitions. Here’s the gist of what I see as the irony of content:

• the topics or matter treated in a written work
• the principal substance (such as written matter, illustrations, or music) offered by a website
  
  versus
  
  
• contentment

To make it as clear as I can, these days social media content rarely leaves me feeling content! Even more clear? It leaves me feeling empty, without content. I know, occasionally, what contentment feels like. Just this morning I experienced two or three cases.

1. On a trip to visit the Granddaughter Person, I drove through the countryside and saw a doe and her fawn; several sandhill cranes in different fields; another whitetail deer; a wild turkey hen; a rooster pheasant; and multitudes of tweety birds; all within various bucolic settings. I could feel my blood pressure dropping as I drove along.
2. My spouse and our granddaughter were standing at the top of the driveway, waving to me as I drove in. I got to enjoy a cup of coffee, read to the Granddaughter Person a few pages of Charlie Mackesy’s book about The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, played with some toys, kissed lots of owies (most, imaginary) and said “bye-bye.” Blood pressure was now probably as close to normal as it ever gets these days.
3. Got home, let the dogs out, drank more coffee, fed and walked the dogs and realized the dogs were actually behaving themselves. Not unheard of but not as common as I’d prefer.

sandhill cranes

Photo by J. Harrington

All told, I had a very pleasant morning which I then undid by picking up the laptop and reading my Twitter timeline. Remember the old joke “Doc, it hurts when I do this.” Doctor: “Then don’t do that.” See what I mean about spending more time in the real world and less in other peoples’ versions of reality?

The Poet As Hero

By Siegfried Sassoon

You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented, 

   Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why 

Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented— 

   My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry. 

You are aware that once I sought the Grail, 

   Riding in armour bright, serene and strong; 

And it was told that through my infant wail 

   There rose immortal semblances of song. 

But now I've said good-bye to Galahad, 

   And am no more the knight of dreams and show: 

For lust and senseless hatred make me glad, 

   And my killed friends are with me where I go. 

Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs; 

And there is absolution in my songs.

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