About Crappy Commemorations

Post 338:

            Since it was a decidedly beautiful day yesterday, I took a long walk, breathing in some of the freshest air imaginable as a city dweller. The sky was that sort of cloudless azure that wraps you up tight and gives you a sense of infinity, all at the same time.

            To be fair, I walk a lot everyday, but this was purely recreational. Soup for the soul, or whatever the hell they call it.

            My path led me through a well-maintained park and down to the river that runs along downtown. They have several memorials set up, dedications to this guy for doing the thing that made some difference a hundred years ago or whatever.

            My feet hurt, so I stopped to read the thing. It was all dusky and bronze. It’s a thing that cities do; when they put up a plaque or monument, even if it was three days ago, they try to make it look like it’s from 1745. No reason why.

            Aesthetics.

            Sorry… digressing. So—I get done reading this little life story, and I couldn’t help feeling a little underwhelmed. If the guy was such an amazing dude, you’d think they could’ve found a slightly interesting anecdote for the commemoration.

            Whatever. At least the guy has a thing next to a river walk in a fairly big city. That’s better than most get. Most won’t be remembered at all. Dust in the wind, dude.

            I’ll be honest though. I want to be remembered, but I realize the danger this puts me in. They might put a plaque up somewhere, only, who knows what part of my life they could use. That stint where I was drinking a lot more than I should? All the times I let really nice girls go because I wasn’t ready? Hopefully they won’t mention the times I had money to spare but didn’t give it to some homeless person.

            Not throwing myself on the pyre, here. Just a little honesty. We all suck a little a lot of the time. That’s okay, though. Just make sure your plaque has a good editor. Bronze lasts forever. Or until the letters are eroded by the elements. By then, who cares!

            Sorry for the rudderless writing. I find my mind at present to be as rambling as the walk I took. But that’s okay. Sometimes you got’s to ramble.

            Cheers. See you after.