Okay. I’m addicted to – among many other things – Netflix. But as great as it is, though, it doesn’t it make me feel like a kid again — or what? I mean, can’t I remember a time when I was sitting in front of the black and white television, trying desperately to get the antenna to get the reception just right?… to that Bears game, when they were playing in the snow? I mean come on now, have I, with all of the new technology, reverted back to my childhood?
I mean, how many times can one hit the pause button, and then hit the play button? If anything (as I just told an old friend, to his dismay), it’s the one thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here: be patient. I told him because he pissed me off the other day when I asked him how he’s changed since arriving here, only to hear him say that he’s become “intolerant”. This is coming from a very successful businessman; but really, is that all he’s learned since being here? Maybe he’ll be more like me, and he’ll learn my “wisdom” in a few more years — or what? What I can’t stand is – after being here for so long – my old friends come to visit me for the first time in years. Now that really ducks me off. Thank you, autocorrect.
I mean, talk about being in a time machine. Fourteen years, or fifteen years, I really can’t remember, but anyway, although I’m not as fat as I was a couple of years ago, I’m definitely a bit fatter than I was fourteen or fifteen years ago; and I most assuredly have less hair. And to hear that my old friend is afraid to get up on stage, when he is, or was, the best guitarist I’ve ever seen? That to me is absolutely ridiculous. I can understand, I guess, because there was a day when I had no fear of standing up in front of an audience of a thousand, and now, though my oratory skills haven’t declined, I’m a bit skittish in front of a group of ten; so yeah, I can certainly understand the guy. But once the dude got onto the stage he was simply fantastic, which makes me wonder: why I don’t get in front of those thousand-people audiences like I used to. Don’t I watch each and every TED Talk that comes out, and don’t I know what makes one good, and another one subpar? Haven’t I written, in my head, a million times, exactly what I would say if I were given an opportunity to get up in front of a TED audience?
Okay, not exactly, but, make it a few more times. Would it be about addiction? Or would it be about my time in China? I’m not so sure. But I’m convinced that one day it will be a good one. As long as my Netflix works.
By Tim Hoerle