Donkey Zonk

Mid-morning game shows are woven into the fabric of my childhood. 

Accordingly, my metaphors often come from  Let's Make A Deal or The Price is Right as much as  birds, bees and baby's breath. 

I remember thinking the lucky winner of a donkey behind Door #3 got to keep it and I wondered how they got this exciting prize back home. 

As a child, I didn't understand why it was a bad prize. It seemed to me then like pretty much the best prize ever.  

My parents already had a kitchen and a car but we didn't have a donkey or goat. 

Some shows referred to these so-called prizes as zonks. 

There's even a mathematic principle for the probability of ending up with a zonk.  

During my research, I read that some folks did indeed keep their zonk.  

I think those people - the zonk-keepers - are good sports and probably pretty interesting people to get to know. 

Even as I write this, I am looking for first hand accounts of domesticated zonks. 

Why am I telling you this?

 I'm not. 

I'm reminding me. 

This last quarter of the year, every door has seemed to hide a donkey or a zonk. 

There have been lots of zonks. Even more donkeys. 

One by one, I stuff them into my tiny toaster of a car and carry them home with me. 

Slowly ... slowly,  they become domesticated blessings. 

It requires squinting one eye to read the tiny inscriptions of gratitude aloud. 

:: some days a short mantra ... every day a litany ::

This year, an unlit, undecorated Christmas tree looks out the living room window over the remains of a large and fallen tree. 

I don't know when we'll get to either one of them. 

But everyday, between the boughs of pine, life waits to be unwrapped again. 

Life that is busy and brimming full of things to do, things we have to do, things we get to do...  I recite gratitude for all of it. 

I think about the donkeys of Christmas and Easter - two different donkeys, never stage play stars but not zonks either. 

Humble beasts in a holy play; always necessary for the narrative, to carry hope forward to birth or certain death...

They bear burdens. They bear hope.  Just like we do. 

And - hee haw - how they laugh. 

Maybe we ought, too. 

Whatever on Wednesdays: An Interruption

 I interrupt my regularly scheduled "Writers on Wednesdays" to say that I actually hate it and I'm not planning to continue the schtick. 

And... I hate gimmicks ... opportunistic alliteration, too.

Yet, in an effort to be " a better writer " - or a more consistent one - in order to to do what it seems like I am "supposed " to be doing- I fall into these traps time and again.  ( re: Patheos )

I've realized I'm just not interested in building the typical platforms or structures associated with writing success - or much of anything at all really - with my words. 

It's not how writing works for me. 

It could. I realize that. 

I could work at writing and make it work for me. But, I don't want to. 

I haven't found words for what I find fulfilling about writing...yet. Maybe it's purpose that eludes me. 

Maybe I'm waiting on a story worth telling - or the right time to tell the ones I know. 

I enjoy writing, capturing truths and humor. 

Reading back over chronicled days has been helpful and informative in my journey.  

But... 

I've studied many of the end roads and don't desire those destinations for myself. 

I don't want to market and promote myself. 

I've always liked to say "Write your plans in pencil". I don't want to ink-down ideals I may grow to see differently. 

I don't want a microphone or a three-part series. 

Knowing what you don't want is an important step in figuring out what you do. 

During this season, the things I have to say are best shared one-on-one, in forums that welcome deeper conversations and accountability from those who hear from me. 

I'm more interested in good connections  than a large following or social media presence. I can't imagine building a follower base so large that replying to each comment takes a full day. (With deep respect for all my friends who do just that.) I already run over the margins of every given day.  

Still, I will share these words all the same. 

That's the why I'm looking for. 

Q: Why hit publish at all - if I'm not building anything?

A:I am compelled to. 

It's hardly an answer, but it's the only one I've got so far. 

Hands in my pockets, I roll my writer's twopence between my fingers and shuffle down the road. 

Perhaps I'll find something good to spend it on. 

Maybe there's a destination somewhere ahead worth building a road to,

Maybe I'll discover it. 

I'm content if I don't. 

Meanwhile, what I'm saying today is, sometimes I feel like talking about authors I admire. 

When I do, it isn't always Wednesday. 

Internet Wisdom & Inspirational Posts

 

The nature of my work brings me in contact with many interesting places on the internet.  I have likened it to visiting EPCOT. I learn about various cultures. I learn hip, new lingo that my teenager immediately forbids me to use. And I discover many interesting ways that people have found to use technology.

 I love it. 

Recently, I came across a bot that struck a chord with me. Not only because it is humorous, but also because it touches on an interesting phenomenon I've noticed online: Internet Wisdom & Inspirational Posts 

I am old enough to remember when motivational posters featuring one large inspirational word, along with that word's definition and a scenic photo against a black background, were all the rage in office decor. <photo> 

I remember, too, the trend in decorating with demotivational posters, sarcastic or satire versions of the same style. <photo>

And now, we decorate cyberspace with inspiration of all kinds. 

We all come across it. Memes, GIFS or graphics with inspirational quotes and images abound. I have more screenshots of humor or inspiration saved in my phone's photo albums than pictures of actual people and places I love... probably. 

When I went through a messy divorce several years ago, I began to see the posts as ironic. 

Sometimes, with a chuckle, I would save an image knowing full well my ex would likely relate the post to me in the same way I was relating it to him. Other times, a post was too mean-spirited for me to save, and yet I would still feel the sting as if it were pointed at me…figuring, if he saw the same post, it would be. 

Later, there was  some drama amongst friends. Onlookers who knew what was going on, understood that the internet wisdom being vague-posted between both parties were just passive-aggressive pot shots; that inspirational bible verse was really a silent slap in the face.

This is how we humans like to be sometimes. 

And then, there are those with aspirations of content creation who just regurgitate the same content in new font, creating a sea of platitudes and false positivity. 

On a low frequency, this content serves as "signs from the universe" to some and affirmation of bad choices or behavior to others. 

While helpful reminders are abundant, so too is a resounding, virtual  "Follow Your Heart" to the whole world.  Sometimes necessary nuance is left out. 

That can be dangerous. Or foolish. Or both. 

And so, when I learned about InspiroBot, I loved the satire; not to mention the blind validation this bot offers my own observations. 

I promptly wasted a good half hour on it, and - despite knowing in advance the content is randomly generated and mostly drivel - I found it irresistible not to save the inspirational posters like so many cookie fortunes.  

Enjoy my little gallery, save any you find applicable, and then, have fun making some of your own

And remember, if you read it on the internet, it simply must be true... for someone... maybe - but not always you. 

InspiroBot Album of Wisdom & Inspiration 

Go To InspiroBot > > > https://inspirobot.me/