More Mezzanine Musings

Since reading "The Mezzanine" I've found myself being more observant. I'm looking at things more closely, trying to understand them, how they work, why, who thought of them, my feelings toward them, or think of them in a new way. Channeling Howie, in a way I guess. Except, I'm not really Howie. Not at all. I don't think I could ever think like Howie.

Howie has this mind that just automatically analyzes everything he comes across. His mind is always working, always busy, always finding new and amazing things to think about. Howie doesn't take anything for granted, and because of that he doesn't overlook anything. That's my problem. I don't know if it's because I've been raised in an era of technology and technological advancement and so some things are not as fascinating to me as they might be to someone who, for example, didn't grow up with an iPod or cellphone or even a family computer, or if it's because I just don't have Howie's mind, but I overlook things. I see a glass of water, and I see a glass of water. That's it. I don't think about the specific design of this glass, the way it slightly curves and indents around the circumference, or how odd it is that the top is a circle, but the bottom is in the shape of a square and who would have such an idea for a design of a glass. My mind doesn't drift off into memories of how when I was a kid, I only used the plastic cups and dreamed of the days when I would be old enough to use the tall, clear, smooth glasses kept in the cupboard that was too high to reach, so that I would have to crawl up on the counter, and balance myself as I opened the cupboard door, and carefully, slowly, grabbed a glass and put it on the counter as I closed the door and lowered myself back onto the ground. No. Not at all.

I mean, these thoughts may cross my mind, but only for a brief second. I don't pursue them. I ignore them. It's a passing thought, nothing more. And yet, to Howie, every thought is important and has meaning. There's no such thing as a "passing thought."He would probably be appalled at the fact that I'm letting these thoughts slide, and would probably go off ranting in a footnote about how each thought is a grain of sand in the beach of your mind, or something like that.

Ah. There's the reason I can never think or write like Howie. I don't like footnotes.

Mezzanine Musings

"Observe, in short, how transient and trivial is all mortal life: yesterday a drop of semen, tomorrow a handful of spice and ashes."

It's a simple enough phrase. I mean, to me it doesn't really strike a chord other than, "Huh. That's an interesting way to put it." But to Howie, it drives him crazy. He starts screaming, "Wrong, wrong, wrong!" and I can just see him throwing the book down into the ground. In his head, that is.

I think I know why this quotation makes Howie so upset. It's because to Howie, nothing is trivial. I mean, the guy goes on for pages about the wonders of shoelaces and straws and earplugs and all sorts of things that people kind of take for granted. Everything is something amazing to Howie. He can find childlike joy in the most inane and mundane things, and seems to hold everything up to a higher standard, like it's on a pedestal. Perforation, anyone?

I don't think he wants to acknowledge the fact that his life, and all aspects of it, really are trivial. It's like, he's trying to raise awareness about all the little things in life, but most people don't really want to hear it. And even if they do stop and listen, it impacts them for a moment but it doesn't really change their views. I kinda fit into this middle area. Howie's insight into the little, often overlooked things in life is really interesting, and makes me stop and think for a while. I've noticed myself observing more than usual, bust just not to the extent that Howie does, and definitely not with as much enthusiasm. I could really care less whether or not shoelaces wear out at the same time. Really, these sorts of questions don't strike the general public. Paper towels vs. hand dryers aren't such a big deal to most people as it is to Howie. I bet most of the world could go on living their life without knowing who exactly invented perforation, but not Howie. These are the things that make his life important, make it have meaning, and if he can't find joy in all the every day things in life, then his life has no joy at all. I think that's why the Aurelius quotation upsets him so much: it makes his life seem to have no meaning.