A cautionary Tale.

It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then to loosen up. Inevitably though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.

I began to think alone – “to relax,” I told myself. But I knew it wasn’t true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don’t mix, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, “What is it exactly we are doing here?”

Things weren’t going so great at home either. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother’s. I soon had a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss called me in. He said, “Skippy, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don’t stop thinking on the job, you’ll have to find another job.” This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. “Honey,” I confessed, “I’ve been thinking…”

“I know you’ve been thinking,” she said, “and I want a divorce!”

“But Honey, surely it’s not that serious.”

“It is serious,” she said, lower lip aquiver. “You think as much as college professors, and college professors don’t make any money, so if you keep on thinking we won’t have any money!”

“That’s a faulty syllogism,” I said impatiently, and she began to cry. I’d had enough. “I’m going to the library,” I snarled as I stomped out the door.

I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche, with NPR on the radio. I roared into the parking lot and ran up to the big glass doors… they didn’t open. The library was closed.

To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.

As I sank to the ground clawing at the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. “Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?” it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker’s Anonymous poster.

Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was “Porky’s.” Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed… easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

Could insanity be the explanation?

Crime, grow-ops, gangs, increasing violence, murder capital of Canada, homelessness, addiction, poverty, mental illness, affordable housing, hunger/lack of food, children going to bed hungry, sewage infrastructure, drinking water infrastructure, tire eating roads, paving, line painting or repainting, highest municipal tax levels in the lower mainland, $10 million for warehouse space labeled as a Cultural Centre, millions of dollar$ in cost over runs, etc. etc. etc. …

Abbotsford is deteriorating under council’s mismanagement; people are complaining about increasing tax levels, about large tax increases, crime, social problems etc; yet citizens choose to re-elect the very people responsible for the problems as if they expect them to act differently and solve problems rather than continuing to create/worsen problems.

A.A. has a saying concerning repeating the same action (electing, re-electing councilors) over and over again, expecting or hoping for a different outcome.

That is the definition of insanity.

Lucky Opening Day was Sunny.

I had to laugh, to avoid crying as I walked into ARC through the new addition for the first time Friday.

With an all-candidates meeting on Friday night I had to swim early, before Yale high school was out, and found myself parking beneath the new extension.

After walking up the fire escape stairs because the elevator was out-of-service due to malfunction, I turned to head down the ramp to head into the old building and the pool and found myself walking around the bucket set out to catch the water leaking into our new recreation facility through its brand new roof.

I also had to step carefully so as not to slip in the two rivulets of water that ran down the ramp.

It was very lucky for our current council that their rushed pre-election grand opening was on a dry non-rainy day. The public would probably have been considerably less impressed if it had been raining and they had to walk around or carefully to avoid the leaks in their expensive new roof.