time and time again

I confess . I do not believe in time .  —– Nabokov

 

   At Virgil Middle School the bells sounded at odd times . Instead of 10:30 , for example , the bell would sound at 10:32 . No bell ever sounded at the hour , or at the half hour , or at the quarter hour . Always 10:32 , or 11:36 , or 3:14 . Better have a clock handy . The reason for this was that the state of California requires specific number of minutes taught in each subject per year and , so , the school system divides it all up and fits it into a schedule . A silly schedule , I think , but , a schedule . 

We all live on a schedule , I suppose . Some of us fit our minutes in one way , some of us in another .clock gothic wall 

    I’ve been thinking about time , lately . Big subject . Endless . There’s not enough time to cover the subject adequately . 

     My 94 year-old neighbor , Don , says he’s lived long enough . He says maybe he should have gone to Doctor Kevorkian instead of his regular doctor . But , Don’s mother lived to be 100 . I know that because I asked Don about it as soon as he mentioned Kevorkian . I guessed that Don’s  family probably have long life spans . I figured they did .  ” Just barely 100 ,” he told me . My guess held water . ( Held water ? ) I think Don has got some more time to go . 

     I had a neighbor , once , named Max. Max was an old guy who used to hobble slowly along  the city sidewalk a mile or more to a synagogue  every day and then back again . One day I was walking  Max across the street and I asked him how old he was . 

  ” I’m ninety-eight , ” Max said . 

  ” You gonna live to be a hundred ? ” I asked . It wasn’t rude , I hope . Just asking . 

  ” I hope not , ”  Max said . 

    He did , though , I think . A year or so later his daughter took him away from his apartment . No more living on his own for Max , I guess . That was thirty years ago or so . I think Max is gone now . I hope so . He’d hope so , too . 

I went to a restaurant that serves  ‘ Breakfast at Any Time ‘ .  So I ordered French toast during the  Renaissance . ——–Steven Wright queen of hearts

I saved two minutes yesterday . I have them in a clean glass bottle . Tight lid . Some day I’ll take them out and use them when I need a couple extra minutes . Maybe the school district should have done that , and then changed their   10:32 bell to 10:30 . But , I guess it doesn’t really matter . A bell schedule is a bell schedule . You can quote me on that . 

It takes a long time to become young . —— Pablo Picasso

       I’ll admit that I haven’t  dived into this  ‘time’  subject very deeply . Just a few amorphous rambling thoughts showed up . I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time . I haven’t spent much time analyzing it all yet . I need to save some more time , put several more saved minutes into  my little bottle ,  so I will have enough time some day soon  to spend on the subject of time .

It all started when my dog started getting free rollover minutes. ——Jay Londonclock grd 2

     Maybe it doesn’t work that way , though . Maybe time can’t be saved . We have all these great and wonderful time-saving devices . What do we do with the time saved, though  ? We schedule other things . Then we sometimes wish that we had the old more carefree times back again . I’ll rethink this ‘time saved’  notion . I’ll open my bottle , check to see if the minutes are still any good . If they are , I’ll let you know . I’ll have some more  time , so I’ll  do that . 

How did it get so late so soon ? It’s night before it’s afternoon . December is here before it’s June . My goodness how the time has flewn ! How did it get so late so soon ? —-Dr. Seuss

clock 22

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under humor

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s