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My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
![]() What's up y'all? We're on Day 4 of the Mystery Roundtable over in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ![]() First though, in case you missed it and since today's entry relies a little bit on knowing what I was sorta trying to talk about yesterday, have a look or a refresher here: "This one's about types 'n stuff, sponsored by the letter N." ![]() Now, my first thought regarding today's prompt was "Really? He's gonna solve mysteries, duh!" But perhaps I have to be a little more specific. My protagonist will be the detective version of me...not some stereotyped do-gooder who has payed his dues and worked himself up through the ranks, or an overgrown manchild roaming the streets because he's bored and his friends' moms won't let them come out to play, or Snoopy in a Sherlock Holmes hat with a magnifying glass lookin' for Linus' blanket. It will be me. If I were a detective. And since I'm a male, I believe that pretty much takes care of the next question. Now, would I be working on my own? Maybe. In fact, yeah. Maybe I'm a unjustly disgraced cop who's a little down on his luck, taking odd jobs on the down-low because the shady police force doesn't want to investigate certain cases. Maybe I've only got one or two trusted connections over at the precinct who are willing to help me but are also one wrong turn of mine away from telling me to stick it up my ass. And maybe I'm down with some kind of street gang that provides me with tips in exchange for me turning a blind eye to some of their hooligan behaviors. I'm a prick, but deep down I believe in justice, and I'm a prick because some of the people working for justice are very unjust, if ya know what I'm sayin'. I could bust rookie cops trafficking drugs, a shop owner running a prostitution ring out of his basement, and find a kidnapper. Typical policework...but I get to do it without the "I'm a cop" line to fall back on. Meanwhile, my former boss at the station keeps digging into my past to help fabricate false claims against me, and mysterious former allies occasionally show up...sometimes to help me, and sometimes because they're working against me. Compelling stuff. Hell, I'd read a book or watch a show about that on tv. And at the end, I'd watch someone else get all the glory because of my work (even though most of the time I'd barely be able to get out of my own way). I'd pour myself a glass of Crown Royal, light up another menthol, shake my head, and fall asleep on the couch during the newscast. And then I'd do it all again...do I eventually get hired back to the force? Am I severely wounded tracking a suspect, even though I have no legal right to? Or do I die miserable and alone, having alienated everyone close to me during another publicly embarrassing display of bad adulting? Tune in next week, when we'll find out. ![]() I'd love to say I've got at least a mental list goin', but I don't. I've got one book out that I keep telling myself I'm gonna read...Room by Emma Donoghue. It's on my nightstand. It has been for awhile, except when I took it with me to Buffalo, thinking I'd read it during my mom's garage sale. I did not. But if I'm being honest here, the majority of my reading will be done here on WDC. I'll be reading blogs for the 30DBC, as well as The Blogging Bliss newsletter (you can read back issues here at "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Archives" ![]() ![]() I don't. I live in a small space and I don't like clutter, so I tend to not keep the unessential stuff out in the open. And now that I think about it, I've never really been into the idea of good luck charms...at least not as an adult. I mean, ok, when I played sports I had certain rituals and superstitions, but those aren't the same as items responsible for the intangible "good luck". That's probably a topic for another day though. Some of you might disagree with what I'm about to say, and that's ok (it's nothing new)...I don't believe in the concept of luck, good or bad. It's easy to believe in when you're a kid with a rabbit's foot or a lucky penny or whatever, but as an adult you see so much of the world and how it works to know that these trinkets aren't the reason things do or don't go your way...and I'm not just saying that because I think I've had more than enough situations where life hasn't exactly turned out fair. There are plenty of examples where chance and circumstance play a role, and luck often bears the brunt of your shitty decision-making or your falling into the right place at the right time. Is it really luck though? Divine intervention? More like timing, missed connections, and talent/skill. Bad luck isn't getting hit by a car. Good luck isn't winning the lottery. Both are, mostly, bound by a series of coincidences...and depending on your outcome, luck is either praised or blamed. Not because you tied your shoes a certain way or forgot your magic troll doll. People have made a lot of money exploiting the public with marketing terms like "lucky", but how useful are these objects? They're no more special than a rock I can find in my building's parking lot. I think the value these particular items actually hold for some people is the confidence having them inspired within the possessor. If it makes you feel better about your day knowing the bottle cap from the beer you had the night you met your wife is always in your wallet, by all means, do your thing. If not seeing it there sends you into a panic, causing you to be off your game at work, chalk it up to that if it helps you cope. But there could be an almost infinite amount of other reasons why things happen the way they do...so many variables and missteps and what-ifs. Luck's just a word, like a doll is a toy and a rock is, well, a rock. But like I said, if it makes you feel better, more power to ya. ![]() ![]() I may not believe in the idea of luck, but I still occasionally catch myself hoping for good luck and cursing bad luck...it's human nature. I think we learn about it at a young age, as a parent's way of explaining to a child why sometimes things don't always work out or why they did. We carry it with us until we learn that no matter what you do, there always exists the possibility of the opposite of the desired outcome occurring. I had this song in my head as going along with both the 30DBC and BCOF prompts. A great live version, featuring REM's Michael Stipe...on the surface it sounds like a positive message, but I think if you look hard enough at the meaning it could almost as easily go the other way. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Yup, with that I think I've done said plenty here today...come back tomorrow when we wrap up the week with Day 5 of the Mystery Roundtable, and hope I don't embarrass myself by not knowing much about it. I'd like to think we covered my lack of mystery knowledge earlier in the week, but a wise man once said "A man doesn't know what he does not know." Peace, it's gonna be a glorious day, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |