An uninteresting thing happened on the way to the Met…
Yestermaday I was reading a post on Greg’s blog, which is always good reading, and came to a realization:
Interesting things don’t happen to me.
That’s sort of an overly blanketful statement, I suppose. I mean, yeah, occasionally something interesting might happen to me. More often, though, only somewhat interesting things happen to other people around me. Even more often, interesting things happen to other people who are nowhere near me (sort of seems like a statement of the obvious…).
The blog entry that led to this realization told an interesting story of somewhat strange and interesting things that happened to Greg and some of his presumably interesting friends. I thought to myself after reading it, “It’s been a long, long time since anything weird like that has happened to me.” I seem to recall that my life was once more full of strange and interesting occurrences, but more recently… not so much.
So how, I wonder, do I bring back some of the interestingness that’s been missing from my life? Perhaps I could start spending more time in public places. The general public, after all, is largely composed of very unusual folks. Perhaps some of them would begin interacting with me in interesting ways. Another possible solution would be for me to inject more spontaneity into my life (although can you really plan to do that?). You know, just get up and go do things when they occur to me, which could, then, lead to interesting goings on. A third possible solution would be for me to look at the sorts of things that normally happen to me anyway in a different light, and try to infuse them with interestingness. That seems sort of unnatural, though.
I’d like to share an example of a somewhat interesting thing that happened to someone other than me: Last Friday evening, my wife and I went downtown to enjoy some live music on the Ped Mall. There were many other people there. At one point during the show, I sort of half noticed a man get up from where he was sitting in front of us and walk off away from the stage. Then, a moment later, a woman who was sitting near where he’d been seated jumped to her feet, looked frantically about, then pointed at the man and shouted, “Him!” At that, the woman’s husband, who’d also been sitting there, ran after the man, caught him from behind, and shoved him hard onto the ground. The shovee fell down (but managed to hold onto his cigarette!), then looked up and asked, “What the [flip]?!?” A fair question, I thought. Then the husband/shover asked gruffly, “Where is it?” and some other man stepped between the two and said, “He put it in the trash can.” Then the husband/shover and his wife went to a nearby trash can and pulled out what I assumed was her purse, which the first guy had apparently stolen, only to discard in the nearest trash receptacle. Then the woman recognized a friend, gave the friend a hug, and began chatting away about various pleasant things completely unrelated to what had just taken place. It was all pretty weird, and while I was there to witness it, none of it happened to me.
Rather than lament the fact that such things don’t happen to me, I should probably just be grateful that I wasn’t involved, so maybe that’s a bad example. I’m not saying I’d like for strange men to steal my wife’s purse, or for angry people to shove me onto the ground (which I’d argue was not interesting, but just plain sucky). If I’m really looking to have more interesting things happen to me, though, I suppose a good way to make that happen would be to instigate such exchanges. I could start stealing purses and immediately throwing them in the trash. Or I could try to pick fights at random. Or I could hug strangers. Well, no… then they’d have stories of interesting things that happened to them, and I’d just be stuck with stories of weird things I’d done to other people. I already have a few of those.
I guess I should just be happy with my rather uninteresting existence. I’m not saying I’m unhappy with my life as it is. On the contrary, I rather enjoy it. I’d like some new stories to tell, though, ‘cause the Compton story is getting old.
Matt
Interesting things don’t happen to me.
That’s sort of an overly blanketful statement, I suppose. I mean, yeah, occasionally something interesting might happen to me. More often, though, only somewhat interesting things happen to other people around me. Even more often, interesting things happen to other people who are nowhere near me (sort of seems like a statement of the obvious…).
The blog entry that led to this realization told an interesting story of somewhat strange and interesting things that happened to Greg and some of his presumably interesting friends. I thought to myself after reading it, “It’s been a long, long time since anything weird like that has happened to me.” I seem to recall that my life was once more full of strange and interesting occurrences, but more recently… not so much.
So how, I wonder, do I bring back some of the interestingness that’s been missing from my life? Perhaps I could start spending more time in public places. The general public, after all, is largely composed of very unusual folks. Perhaps some of them would begin interacting with me in interesting ways. Another possible solution would be for me to inject more spontaneity into my life (although can you really plan to do that?). You know, just get up and go do things when they occur to me, which could, then, lead to interesting goings on. A third possible solution would be for me to look at the sorts of things that normally happen to me anyway in a different light, and try to infuse them with interestingness. That seems sort of unnatural, though.
I’d like to share an example of a somewhat interesting thing that happened to someone other than me: Last Friday evening, my wife and I went downtown to enjoy some live music on the Ped Mall. There were many other people there. At one point during the show, I sort of half noticed a man get up from where he was sitting in front of us and walk off away from the stage. Then, a moment later, a woman who was sitting near where he’d been seated jumped to her feet, looked frantically about, then pointed at the man and shouted, “Him!” At that, the woman’s husband, who’d also been sitting there, ran after the man, caught him from behind, and shoved him hard onto the ground. The shovee fell down (but managed to hold onto his cigarette!), then looked up and asked, “What the [flip]?!?” A fair question, I thought. Then the husband/shover asked gruffly, “Where is it?” and some other man stepped between the two and said, “He put it in the trash can.” Then the husband/shover and his wife went to a nearby trash can and pulled out what I assumed was her purse, which the first guy had apparently stolen, only to discard in the nearest trash receptacle. Then the woman recognized a friend, gave the friend a hug, and began chatting away about various pleasant things completely unrelated to what had just taken place. It was all pretty weird, and while I was there to witness it, none of it happened to me.
Rather than lament the fact that such things don’t happen to me, I should probably just be grateful that I wasn’t involved, so maybe that’s a bad example. I’m not saying I’d like for strange men to steal my wife’s purse, or for angry people to shove me onto the ground (which I’d argue was not interesting, but just plain sucky). If I’m really looking to have more interesting things happen to me, though, I suppose a good way to make that happen would be to instigate such exchanges. I could start stealing purses and immediately throwing them in the trash. Or I could try to pick fights at random. Or I could hug strangers. Well, no… then they’d have stories of interesting things that happened to them, and I’d just be stuck with stories of weird things I’d done to other people. I already have a few of those.
I guess I should just be happy with my rather uninteresting existence. I’m not saying I’m unhappy with my life as it is. On the contrary, I rather enjoy it. I’d like some new stories to tell, though, ‘cause the Compton story is getting old.
Matt
posted by Matt at 3:22 PM
2 Comments:
The entire CTK youth group (and recent alumni) would apparently beg to differ on your assessment of the Compton story, but I see your point. I hadn't thought about it before, but nothing much interesting ever happens to me, either. Maybe it's something a person has to go look for; hang out with odd people or intentionally put oneself in weird situations.
I seem to be in the habit of putting myself in at least somewhat interesting-appearing situations, or situations that appear interesting to an outsider while actually oozing boringness to me. I get a lot of comments like "your life is so interesting!" which end up making me feel somewhat inferior for not recognizing and carpe-diem-ing the interestingness...
What is my point? Um... maybe that your last option, that of purporting interestingness onto some of the less-interesting and mundane details of life, might not be such a bad or insincere option. Chances are, someone considers them interesting anyway! (Also... isn't that really what good writers do?)
And what is the Compton story?
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