The ill Humored

It may seem ridiculous, or unoriginal, or trite, but if I could have anything in the world, the answer that comes to mind first is and always will be money.  Why money?  For me, it’s an easy answer.  They say that money never bought happiness, but the question isn’t “What would make you happy?”  Even it it’s a bit sad, the fact is money essentially buys anything.  Most of the problems that I’ve had in life have involved money, or could have been taken care of if I had been able to afford it.  I don’t want to sound shallow, but I think if I had the money, I would be able to feel more at peace.  Not exactly Zen Buddhism, I know, but it’s kind of a meditation for this day and age.

I have always made a point of not compromising my personal morals.  This, of course, can be seen as a negative.  To me at least, it’s not just stubbornness or blind adherence to an arbitrary set of ideals.    The way that I see it, everyone has hard times, especially in this economy.  A lot of things can and do happen to you.  Many people have lost homes, had cars repossessed, and other such tragic happenings.  When it really comes down to it, the world can do a lot to you and take a lot away from you.  The one thing that you have that can never be lost is your own honor.  If you are true to your word, you always have a chance to turn things around.

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As a little kid, I spent a lot of time at my grandparents house.  We lived with them for a while, when my parents were trying to find a new house.  My grandmother, like many others I imagine, was a big fan of baking.  Cookies, cakes, brownies, there was rarely a day that went by without the smell of something delicious wafting upstairs.  I always liked to join her down in the kitchen.  She usually tried to make me go out into the yard and play, because, being a traditionalist, she felt that little boys shouldn’t be baking.  She relented eventually, obviously, and I especially liked when she would let me lick the batter from her spoon.  One day, I snuck a large piece of chocolate that was next to her on the counter.  It was, it turned out, bakers’ chocolate, and unsweetened.  I must have made the most ridiculous face sucking on the bitter stuff, because Grandma couldn’t stop laughing.

Lately, I’ve taken up a new hobby.  I have started rock climbing.  I should preface this by saying that I started this, like so many other people, because of a girl.  This wasn’t just any girl; I don’t want to seem shallow or manipulative.  She was my longtime girlfriend, and had been nagging me for a long time to go to Planet Rock, the local climbing gym, with her.  A few months ago, I relented.  And, to her credit, she was right, I actually quite enjoyed it.  As a taller guy, I have an easier time reaching longer distances.  I would have an easier time if I was about twenty pounds lighter, but that’s wishful thinking.  Anyway, I very much enjoy it, and surprisingly it doesn’t even bother my bum knee, aside from a little weakness after extended times hanging twenty feet off the ground.  The rush that stays with you the rest of the afternoon makes it worth it.