There’s no picture with this post, no intricate abstract drawing, no photograph of one of nature’s many gifts. I was born in the ’60s, a time when you’d turn on the TV and find static, that white, fuzzy stuff that made a sound like sizzling bacon. There was no picture. You could make the picture come on, just by standing a little to the left or the right. The screen would fill up with zigzag lines or tiny black and white dots. The zigzag lines were signs of hope, because those had more potential of becoming a picture. You could make those little lines and dots jump up and down, simply by waving your hand in front of the screen. Often, you went and did something else when it became apparent that your program wasn’t coming on.
I’ve just deleted a few paragraphs about static. I wrote an analogy and was trying to find a way of telling a personal story in an impersonal way. Instead, I’ll make it short and sweet like this: Sometimes you get the static and need an antenna. Sometimes you *are* the static, sometimes you *are* the antenna. And sometimes, you actually get a picture on the screen and can tune into your regular programming. I guess the the point is knowing when to even try to get that picture.
I really hope I haven’t confused you. Though I’m sure someone out there needed to read this, otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of writing it. 2015 is shaping up to be interesting in all kinds of ways, showing up in all kinds of static. Hang in there, you just might get the picture.