All of this talk about change, both here in the blog and out in the "real world" has made me start to assess just how capable I will be to accept this potential tidal wave of difference that is rumored to be heading our way. We are guaranteed to have a woman or an African American candidate to vote for this November, though we could still end up with an octogenarian or a Clinton again. Been there, done that.
But what about the rest of my life? I confess to being a creature of habit. I enjoy my ruts, and I savor their familiarity as others might enjoy the bouquet of a Cabernet Sauvignon. Many of these strange fixations have become the subject of prior blogs, and it often shakes me to the core to have one of my ruts interrupted. My wife often says, with mild chagrin, that I can make something a habit just by deciding to.
An illustration: I missed Bruce Springsteen Saturday night. He was in the Bay Area, an hour away in San Jose, and I kept flinching in the direction of going for several weeks leading up to the show. The only other time that I missed a Springsteen show in my area code (more or less), was an intimate little gathering on the "Devils and Dust" tour. The show on Saturday night was sold out as well, but it was in a much larger venue, and at the last possible moment I was offered a pair of tickets. Not for free, mind you, but I did have access to "pretty good seats". What kept me from going? Those same ruts that made my Springsteen addiction possible. I couldn't imagine shaking myself out of the routine that I had already set in motion for the weekend. How could I find the money, time, and enthusiasm required for a Bruce show in just twenty-four hours?
I didn't go, and I gave myself fits by indulging in another one of my habits: checking out the set list from the previous night's show. The fact that he played the "Detroit Medley" was a hard enough pill to swallow, but finding out that he did "Fire" and "Bobby Jean" for the first time on this tour the night that I decided to save a little money and spend some quality time with my wife and son, well, that was just about enough to push me over the edge.
I suppose there is another way to look at this. I could let myself off the hook by rationalizing the notion that I will probably miss a few more shows, and this is becoming my new rut. Sure, that's it.
Change is hard.