You Love What You Love
June 14, 2004
Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. Mr. Keillor and his "Methodist Blues" got me thinking about how I haven't been to church in a while, mainly because I overdid it a bit at Easter time and too much of anything can make you a little nuts. So these past few weeks on Sunday morning I've had my own little church services at the grocery store and the coffee shop and in the bathtub. I've always kept my spirituality a bit private, and I've never been all that good at following rules. If religion were a road map, I'd be toolin' along in an old red pickup out on the rolling back roads.
It's not that I don't have convictions. I know what I believe, and I believe it. I'm just not all that keen on trying to convince people to believe what I believe. I've always admired Mr. Sundberg for his ability to get up in front of a crowd and motivate people by telling them what he really believes about stress and serotonin levels and nervous tics and the human will to persevere --- all without his making anyone feel they HAVE to believe him. And he follows the rules, too. He never talks more than one hour, is respectful to all people (even the man in Detroit who threw a tomato at him and called him a goofball), and admits when he can't answer a question.
I imagine opposites attract because it's another way we can learn something and make life a little bit easier. Mr. Sundberg taught me how to play "Edelweiss" on the guitar and the proper way to start a tractor. I've learned quite a bit about politics and the art of public speaking, and he's still working on getting me to comprehend the fuse box, and I'm darn close, save that little incident last week where I nearly gave myself electroshock therapy. Now, I can't say I've taught him much. I tried to show him how to make homemade bread, but he got caught up in how many mosquitoes were buzzing outside the screen door and counted them and went on to tell me how many species of mosquitoes there are and how many are deadly and how we really ought to get one of those purplish lights out in the yard and so on. I show him how to make hospital corners while remaking a bed, and that a quarter can bounce off the sheets. "You just climb back in again, so why bother?" he says.
If he doesn't get into hospital corners, that's fine with me. Same with the bread. You love what you love, and what's the point of pushing it on other people? Chances are if you just do your thing and if you're lucky someone will notice and ask a question or two and then you'll have the pure luxury of telling someone who's interested about something you love. Or maybe no one will ask and that would be fine, too.