The Chronicales of Jim Dixon

From the cabin of his Lear jet, Jim looked out at the world from 35,000 feet, shook his head and smiled.  He was a very lucky man, and he knew it.  "It all, just happen..." he thought.  "It all just happened.  I'm certainly no genius, but here I am with so much.  I've been prudent.  Okay I'm flying in my own Lear jet, but it not the latest model and I try not to be outrageous..."

He quit thinking about his 'humility.'  True or not, nobody would buy the idea that someone of his means could be humble.

Today; what and where. A meeting with the board of directors of Plastic Metals Corp. "Who dreams up these names?" Jim thought to himself for the umpteenth time since buying into the company.  The weather forecast for Nevada was for perfect Spring weather; 70's with a light breeze.  Golf was not of interest to him, but sitting poolside, now there was a great idea.  Maybe after the meeting....He loosened his tie, adjusted the seat, leaned back.  The Limo would be waiting at the airport.  He hoped Dan Farnsworth would not be in it.  It wasn't all that far from the airport to the hotel, but anytime time spent with Dan was draining.

For now, he just let it all go as the plane gently turn as Jim closed his eyes and smiled, as the world spun gently below.

It's what I came here for.

You're at a restaurant. You're hungry. You've looked over the menu, decided on what you want, the waitperson is standing by your table ready to take your order, when it happens.

This waitperson speaks, The Unsolicited Opinion; "...and the special tonight is my absolute favorite...." And you flinch. You know you want to, you know you can't possibly do it in polite society, you tell yourself you are not old enough to do it, but someday you know, you will have the courage to do it. To casually place your menu in front of you, remove your hands from it, look the waitperson straight in the eye and say: "because it is your favorite, that's why I came here. Not for I want but because something is your favorite. What I desire means nothing! It is you who are important! Your opinion, your likes, not mine. I didn't even ask for your opinion, yet you freely speak your preference, before it is even asked, as if I-FREAKING-CARE!"

Someday....yes, someday.

New Years Eve - 2009

The question, "What am I doing here?" is both literal, and philopophical. What are we doing with our lives, our world, our children. And philosophical, as in "do we have a purpose in the grand scheme of things?"

Personally, I have no idea, but that's what I'm doing here; learning. Maybe someday it will all makes sense. Right now, well, it's all as clear as mud.

Here's to the new decade, with it's questionable ancestry, and it's ambiguous progeny. If the calenders of various soothsayers are correct, we've got two years left to find the answer.