I have fallen into the bad habit of watching football every Sunday. Especially the 49ers, who are my local team. I don’t consider myself a fan of football although I do have a general idea of how well the 49ers are doing during the season.
Anyway, they played early yesterday and I didn’t watch the game. We went for a walk and happened upon a parade. That’s another story.
Later I found out that they had won in dramatic fashion at the last second. This morning, Sepi was watching the news while I was half asleep. I heard the TV say that they were going to show some highlights of yesterday’s game. I thought that might be interesting so I started to perk up. Right about then Sepi turned off the TV. For a moment I was annoyed but then I realized that I really didn’t care that much and it all started me thinking about the experience of watching football on TV, which led to thinking about the experience of, well, anything live.
Live theatre or live music comes to mind first, but live Veteran’s Day parades would qualify as well. We ‘do’ things. Why? For the experience!
Now that I am retired, the large block of time that used to be dedicated to work, which is to say, supporting myself and my family, has been freed up. Now I am able to use it for more – or different – experiences.
The value each of us gets from those experiences varies. Missing out on the experience of the football game is not a big deal for me, especially since it was replaced by the experience of a nice walk on a sunny day that happened to coincide with a parade. Serendipity experience!
Thinking about writing in the last couple of months I have kept coming back to wondering why I am doing this. I have gotten a few new readers and they have given me very positive (and gratifying) feedback. That’s nice!
This started out as a tribute to Zach and keeping his memory alive is starting to dovetail into keeping my own memory alive. 10, 20, 50 years from now, who will care about my experiences? I still have all of his diaries but I haven’t read any in years now. Mom has a whole bookshelf full of journals she kept on the many travels she went on with Dad. What to do with those is a decision we children will have to face sooner or later.
A few years ago, Mom got out a diary that my grandfather had kept on a trip he took from Denver to Southern California. I found it interesting for a number of reasons but mostly because it gave an insight into the kind of person he was. He died when I was a pre-teen and we did not see him very often so we were not close. In fact, my recollection of him is as a rather remote figure.
So, I hope my writing here will interest someone in years to come. They might be looking for a different experience!