Holtz Realty managed to have another closing come to a soft landing today. I have a good feeling the buyer will continue on with the care and maintenance which the now previous owners carried out over their long years of ownership. For being somewhat young, I’ve judged the buyer as having excellent taste considering the home that was selected. There are so few exceptionally well constructed homes on the market from which to choose.
In having to run a few more errands this afternoon, I happened to notice more people out walking, and one young man in particular was wearing excessively sagging jeans which tells me the drop crotch style is still alive and well. He along with ever other person I noticed walking, were plugged into something of which they were likely listening. I noticed another young man plugged in while out mowing his yard. This new craze is something I really can’t get my brain wrapped around. Why is it we don’t want to experience the essence of now? Consider what it would be like to walk around outside with earplugs in both ears, or having one’s eyes blindfolded, or even to have a nose plug.
Are we living in an age where we don’t want to experience all the visuals, smells, audios, and tactiles while out in nature? It must create quite a shallow experience when living in the now. Evidently most don’t want to be in realtime where every moment is special and will never be repeated. The sad thought about now is that it will never be again. Carpe diem has somehow been pushed to the wayside and replaced by artificial stimuli. Some months ago I spoke with a young gentleman about his need to be nearly always plugged into music. He didn’t bat an eye by saying he’s plugged-in every moment possible. So terribly sad when you think about it. I’m starting to blame parents all the way back to twenty-some years ago for allowing their children to be overly exposed to the television as well as all those silly video games. They are now addicts to artificial sounds and visuals—nothing real is attractive.
I was out mowing that small patch of grass behind my office this evening with my reel push mower which of course has no motor, when one of the people from down the alley came over and said, “That’s about as primitive as it gets.” I smiled and said, “Yes it’s a bit primitive, but it does get the job done.” Every time I see people with a little bit more than a little midriff bulge, I think how they should be doing some more “primitive” menial labor. Everyone wants to stay in shape by running out to the all-time fitness centers when they could be getting similar amounts of calories burned by creating great masterpieces in their yards, or out helping someone else with theirs. Too many islands of selves are running around being all they can be in mind and body without a second thought of others. When my grandmother was alive and living in her charming cottage-style home, I couldn’t have been more attentive to the needs of her yard. When finished, I’d walk away exceptionally pleased that there was likely not a blade of grass un-cut.
By the way, I was never plugged into something while performing her chores. If I wanted to listen to music, I’d simply flip the switch in my mind. I’m glad I didn’t have to get unplugged to enjoy those particularly memorable “nows” of my life—it was all real.