In third grade, my music teacher told us the story of Beethoven. I think it was Beethoven. I’m too lazy to google it now.
When Beethoven first started losing his hearing, he inserted a metal tube into his ear to help him drown out the excess noise and focus his hearing. As his hearing worsened, however, the metal tube served less and less effectual; to compensate, Beethoven drove the tube deeper and deeper into his ear canal.
I’m the kind of guy who compares anything to everything: my favorite TV show (Survivor) to my least favorite (The Bachelor), the best month (April) to the worst month (November), the greatest year of my life (2012) to the very worst (2006).
I can’t help it. I compare. It’s what I do. It’s why I love rankings and ratings and top-10 lists, the best and the worst. I can’t get enough of the comparison game.
As the grotesque mass of space garbage we call 2016 hurtles toward oblivion, people everywhere are cheering the prospect of a new year. Myself included. We’ve proclaimed this the worst year ever, what with a most bizarre election cycle, the deaths of numerous beloved celebrities, raging wildfires and natural disasters, and the opening of the first seal of the Apocalypse.
Before November could unleash her usual dread upon me, I decided I’d take a proactive approach with this month. Blog every day, I thought? Would that do it? Would that do the trick and make me somehow look forward to this month instead of loathe it every day?
Some days were better than others. Some days were easier to blog. Some days, posts were planned; other days, I opened up this blank white screen clueless as to what would emerge.
Well, I missed a day of blogging. My dreams, dashed. My hopes, crushed. My legacy, tarnished. But I have a good excuse.
I took the students on a campout last night, my first overnight excursion on the job, and I couldn’t exactly blog ‘neath the stars. So, I cheated with this Instagram photo yesterday afternoon: