For as far back as I can remember, my Sundays are either bike rides with friends, or working on the Alleycat farms.

The mayor came out to visit yesterday, which brought unwelcome media in my mind. They weren’t much interested in us and as much as the mayor is a public official I sort of felt like their questioning was invasive and was ruining the day. I thought upon this for a bit, politics, and the reminders of my favorite dilbert comic.

Today I had a choice of doing something important that no one would ever realize, or doing something useless that would look like an accomplishment.

Last night, well, during the period between my naps from exhaustion and the period that is the closet I’ve been coming to sleep for a while, I watch a documentary on Hulu called The American Ruling Class.

Mike Vanzetti: No offense, but do you really think you can change things, much less the world, by walking down a country road singing a song? By singing a song anywhere, at any time, for anybody, for that matter?

Pete Seeger: I s’pose not, but I am going to make darn sure the world isn’t going to change me. It’s like this. Imagine a big sea saw and one end is on the ground, because it has a basket half full of rocks in it. The other end is up in the air, because it has a basket one-quarter full of sand. And some of us got teaspoons and we are trying to fill it. And of course most people are kinda scoffing at us. They say, “Don’t you see it’s leaking just as quick as you are putting it in? People like you been trying for centuries, but it’s never going to change.” And we say, “You might be right, but we think we get more people with teaspoons all the time and one of these days that whole seasaw is going to go zooop, and people will say ‘Gee, how did it happen so suddenly?’ Us and all our little teaspoons, over the centuries.” Who knows?

At some point in time, I decided the best way to change to the world was to touch individual peoples lives. I’ve failed at sharing my excitement and introspection as a result of Kenshin with anyone. Perhaps I’ve been more successful than I let on, but that I hold a subtle grudge against M that blinds me. In any case, I change the world by being who I am.

If there is no last morality here to be offered, it is an individual question. The last thing people always say as they go out is not ‘I wish I had had more money.’ They’re usually wishing something else, about what they did with their lives.

Dad used to comment on what a shame it is that the same lessons have to be learned by every generation. As I learn more lessons that a book can’t teach you, that only life and experience can, I appreciate that it is less about what you’ve done than how you’ve done it. Repeated in the documentary is that doing well is not the same as doing good.

I pride myself in being a hard worker, in caring, and being thoughtful.  Sometimes I look at a group of people and wonder, “what have they done?”, because I feel they are living in a fantasy land. Is this a real place created by entitlement, by not having had to work for what they have? It’s difficult to judge without getting too academic on the subject, which I tend to view with disdain.

I guess, more than anything else, I end up with a way.