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| [Originally posted on Facebook on Monday, October 26, 2009 at 11:57pm]
Tonight I saw Perspective.
I was sitting in my small flip-down theater style seat complete with a half sized, half hearted attempt at a desk top, enduring another lecture on the Principles of Microeconomics. My blocky brown-rimmed glasses clarified the diagrams my professor scrawled on the dry erase board, effecting focus for my eyes if not for my wandering thoughts. As taxes and prices and other nuances of various fictional economies rose and fell squeakily to various colors of marker, my mind strayed to other matters.
First, the classroom was all that was. I perceived a space, like a misshapen box, entirely contained and abuzz with scholarly activity: a box full of minds bent on only what was within it.
Then my view expanded.
I saw a large chunk of darkness silhouetted by an ambiance somewhat less dark: the building against the night. A small cutaway revealed a brightly lit cubicle set into the building's side, almost utterly unregarded by anything else in view. The cutaway was filled with focused minds.
Once more my frame of reference grew; this time the room was a mere rectangular dot glowing in the distance.
Then it became a pin-prick in the darkness.
It dissolved into the void.
* * *
I mentally rejoined the class and turned my focus to what was happening within the room. Apparently a fictitious government had just levied imaginary taxes upon a hypothetical market, and the supposed dead-weight loss was to be calculated. Somehow, after my recent encounter with Perspective, this seemed less important than it had before.
And somehow, I cared more.
* * *
Perspective can do funny things to you if care is not maintained. Encounter it with caution. | | |
| I'm taking two college classes at San Diego State University.
The Navy is paying for it. So, not only do I have a job during the day, but my education costs are being covered as well. The greatest part of the whole situation is that college turns out to be fun (classes that involve math and no paper-writing, anyway).
Also, my long-awaited return to Facebook happened this afternoon; I realized that keeping in touch with friends was more important than any of my reasons for not having an account. I look forward to being sucked into a world domination scheme yet again! Hooray, high-fives all around.
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|  Moxie—Nectar of Life—drink up!
Jordan was setting up a group shot; I was testing the automatic smile-capture setting on my camera. It kind of worked. Too well.
 Entitled, "Mountain Men"  Mayday, mayday—the payload is too heavy. Abort mission.  Perry! At the park.  One can't visit New Hampshire without a stop at Zeb's, it seems. | | |
| Well Stanley.
I had a delightful visit in the rain forest that is New Hampshire with Dad and Clint. Thankfully it honored our presence with a slight hiatus from the much bemoaned summer-long rainathon and graced our visit with a mixture of sunny warm days and damp overcast ones.
We hiked, swam, consumed Moxie, drove, picnicked, lost cameras, found cameras, nearly damaged cameras, rescued Jordan from camp for a day, documented heathen rituals in the wilderness via video, had a campfire, rendered our tongues moot with spicy Thai cuisine, tossed a frisbee, associated with friends, and much more. It was epic.
The only part that felt weird was the realization that none of it felt weird at all. I swear, I have NOT been away for a year. No way.
I am sincerely sorry to everyone who may have wanted to hang out, but were prevented by schedule and time constraints. I wanted to see you too; maybe next time?
I might post some pictures on here soon. Can I get an amen?
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| So...who wants to see me? I'll be in New Hampshire tomorrow. | | |
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