Ed Sullivan

Here's something sad - I have no thoughts right now. None whatsoever. That's bad to have a blog with nothing to say, but something will come to me. I'm mostly blogging because I heard just writing makes you a better writer. That might be true. Running makes you a better runner. Reading a lot makes you a better reader. Although there is some stuff that you might do a lot doesn't necessarily make you better at it. Practice makes perfect. I don't think that's really true, though. They say "Perfect practice makes perfect". But that's not true either. If you could practice something perfectly, aren't you already perfect? Do you have to make sure you can make 100% of your free throws before you can practice them? And if you can make 100% of them, why do you have to practice? Maybe its "Practicing as well as you can causes you to gradually improve at a snail's pace that will be hardly even noticeable until way later and then you look back and see the improvement, although very likely you see that you did improve some, but are not sure that amount of improvement was really worth all that effort". That seems a little more true to life.

I hated writing in school, but now I like it. I remember in about fourth grade we had to write about ourselves. Our teacher, Mrs. Sullivan (who I figured had to be married to Ed Sullivan as those two were the only Sullivans I had ever heard of) told us to write about who we were inside. Not just facts about ourselves. I rebelliously wrote just facts about myself. I wasn't writing about any of my emotions (of which I had none, so kind of a moot point), just a basic description of myself - birthday, hair color, etc. It may not seem like much, but it was probably the most rebellious thing I ever did in school.

I can think of one other rebellious act. In first grade when we got spinach and we were told we had to at least take one bite of everything. I tried to make it look like I took a bite out of my spinach, though I had not done so. Lunch monitor Hitler wasn't fooled for a second. I really wanted to like spinach because of, you know, Popeye, but I just couldn't do it. I think they have since given up trying to make kids eat cooked spinach. Have you seen it? Not pretty. However, I now include some raw spinach on my Subway sandwiches. Still not super tasty, but I think I am appreciably stronger now. I can do 60 push ups. I swear I can. I couldn't when I was younger. I don't know how this has happened. In other ways, I'm falling apart, but push up-wise, I'm looking good.

There. I made it through a blog having no idea what I was going to write about. Now all I have to do is come up with a well-thought out title that summarizes my thoughts.