If I’m being honest I’m just sitting here in the lobby area, literally staring at a blank white wall while I wait for my daughter’s volleyball practice to conclude. I seem to do that a lot – sit and stare. I’m usually thinking, or more likely trying not to think, about the things I should be doing, both the things I have to do and the things I want to do.
I usually will get around to whatever it is I have to do, work or shop or eat or shower.
The things I want to do, though, even though I want to do them, I for some reason avoid like grim death. It’s a lot of stuff, but most of it seems to revolve around things that would be good for me, like eating better or exercising. Or calling or writing to someone I haven’t spoken to in awhile.
Most of it revolves around this – writing. I’m not sure why it takes me so long for these, or for stories I write, to go from thought to fruition. The process is excruciating, and a lot of times I think I’d be better off without it. The backlog of ideas I have is debilitating, and most will never see the light of paper, or screen. The vast majority will continue to careen around and pinball in my head until I’m driven to distraction.
If you’ve been following along you know that this is something I’ve discussed at length. I’m not sure what exactly my problem is. (There is a list my problems I have that I’m working on. I’m not sure if I should alphabetise them or list them in order of severity. Regardless, I should print out the list. When someone asks ‘What’s your problem?’, which happens more than I’d like to admit, I could just hand them the list. It would probably save us all some time.) I mean, I know there are issues, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint one Theory of Everything problem that explains why I am the way I am.
So a big one on that list would be the procrastination issue. I usually subsist on the bare minimum, doing just what I need to do to get by. If there is a Kingdom of Procrastination then I am it’s sovereign. Nothing much gets done in the K of P – we usually spend the day watching TV ignoring the sewers that are dangerously backing up. We also lead the world in duct tape consumption.
Yeah, but I do have ideas. Very few of them come to fruition. So far I have had one tiny little story published on an internet site. I have this, blog, but honestly even the word blog makes me a little uneasy. It sounds…self-indulgent, I think. (Didn’t I write something like that in the #1? I think I did. Oh well…)
One idea I’ve had for awhile is for a website. I think I’d call it “The Biography of You” or “The History of You.” It would be like an obituary site, but so much better.
I like to know the whole story. I like to know how things started. I crave etymology, history, causality.
I also really want to know about people. Sometimes when I’m out and about I’ll see someone and just want to ask them a bunch of questions, who they are and where they come from and what they do and if they’re ok. I find myself wanting to ask people that a lot – if they are ok. But of course interviewing a complete stranger is insane and I’m not going to do it. Probably.
What would be cool to me about this website is that it would highlight regular people. Just me and you and your dad and your uncle – anyone you wanted.
See, I have heros just like you do. Famous people I admire or enjoy or envy. And we all do this thing, especially these days with the interest and such, where we are sad and lament the death of one of these noteworthy people. And we write books and make movies about them. Or if they are leaders we talk or write or glorify their achievements and how they influenced and shaped the world. We remember them, build statues to them, name our streets after them.
And none of that is inherently bad, though I think we should have been and should continue to be careful on who we decide to be exalt.
But the in the history of people, there’s like .000001+++% of those type of people and infinity+++ of us.
It would be really good. Instead of a tiny little obit that no one reads the site would be dedicated to you. It would be your story, told in a documentary type format, with pictures, not just from when you were older and shrivled and dead but from as much as a loved one wanted to tell of you and your story. It would include video and interviews and would look professional and you would be made to look important.
Because you are important. Maybe you didn’t lead a country through a war or start a movement or make a great discovery. But that doesn’t mean that you, or me, or all of use, the untold multitudes, being born and living and dying are not a part of this, all of it, whatever it is we call history. We’re all historical.
I read somewhere once on the internet that after you die it’s somewhere around 100 years before there is absolutely no one left on the Earth that has any memory or knowledge of you.
Think of the untold numbers of people, then and now, born, lived, died. They are history, and have as much right to history as Napolean or Lincoln or Kim Kardashian and I want to know about them.
It could have a searchable database by time or country or origin or profession. You could even sign up yourself before you die, be interviewed at different periods of your life, decide how you’d like to be remembered.
Imagine an entire database of your genealogy. Imagine seeing your grandfather when he was 25 and not just in some grainy picture.
They are just coming out with virtual reality. They’ll continue to perfect it, and there will be a day where we’ll be able to view events, history, our own personal history in 3D.
The implications of this website would be awesome and every time I think about it I get excited. I’m sure they have something like it out there, but not what I have in mind.
I’m not going to do it, of course. But someone should. It would be cool.
I swear I wrote some kind of story about something like this. It’s in the attic somewhere. I should check it out but it’s kind of cold up there. I’ll do it soon.
I started thinking about it again today because my Great Aunt Edna died yesterday. She was 97, or somewhere around there. I hadn’t seen her in awhile, not since her husband died some years back. She was a nice lady. But I didn’t know her, not really, and I would have liked to. Maybe just talk to her, see how she was doing, if she was ok. I’ve done that with a lot of people, relatives, friends, whomever. Meant to check back in. There’s always time, until there’s not. And before you know it they, and you, poof, are gone.
But I’m part of history and so are you. I don’t know if that means anything important, but it certainly means something. I think we deserve to be remembered, somehow, someway.
Semi-related, I heard this song on a Netflix show I was watching the other day. It may have been in the context of the show but I thought it was super sweet. I think Aunt Edna would approve of it.