TWICE DAILY REWIRE

I ride to and from work most days on a ferry.  As a child I thought the ferry was great fun. We could go upstairs and stand on a deck where the wind from the ferry moving was so strong you could barely stand straight.Once we had the great thrill of watching a seagull poop on our grandmother in her pristine white pant suit.

There is also an inside observation deck for those who needed to sit. You can feed the gulls from the back of the boat. If make the mistake of feeding them from anywhere else, the captain will boom out over the intercom, "FEED THE BIRDS FROM THE BACK OF THE BOAT ONLY!" The ferry was, and is, still free. It is a major attraction for tourists on both sides of the Galveston Bay to ride on.

In the early days, these pylons were made of wood. And yes, I remember them like that.

As an adult the ferry is still great fun.  Waiting in line is not so much fun, so I got a pass and now am able to bypass the downside of ferry riding.  The ferry has become meditation time, reading time, mostly floating office time and wasted time on the days when I just feel like leaning against the car and looking at the bay.

When I think about wasting time part of me cringes.  It is the "cringe" I am trying to overcome. The cringe is the guilt setting because I am not busy.  For most of our lives we are taught to stay busy, excel, get ahead of the next guy.  That is the prevailing thought process in any corporate office you walk into anywhere in the United States.

Why are we wired this way?  Can we rewire?  Can I rewire?  I had this conversation several years back with one of my sisters. She was a stay at home mom, I had just entered the workplace and was having some difficulty adjusting to some nastiness that was occurring at work.  She quoted one of her favorite movies, Harvey.  In the movie, Jimmy Stewart says "I had to decide between oh so smart or oh so happy, I chose oh so happy."  She chose "oh so happy," and was always content with her choice.

Now, happy for the character Jimmy Stewart played was a constant state of inebriated.  It does give me an idea though.  On the morning ferry, I will not work anymore, I will be "oh so happy".  At work I will be "oh so smart."  On the return ferry ride I will again be "oh so happy."  Maybe not a rewire, but a splitter of sorts.

If I start to write about giant rabbits on the ferry, you might have to call the looney bin.

Me, on the ferry, practicing "oh so happy."