Appreciation Versus Craving and Ownership

There must be many a man who is surprised by how his career as a girl-watcher develops as he ages. Most young men probably think that age rots the pleasure of girl-watching. Are they ever wrong! They come to this erroneous conclusion because they confuse sex-drive with pleasure, and craving with appreciation.  Something similar happens with "owning a house". The more experienced man realizes that the house owns him more than vice versa. But that isn't to say that he can't be fond of looking at old buildings, ruins, foreign architecture, etc. 

A third example of the same principle is enjoying funky, artsy, old mining towns in beautiful locations. What a pleasure they are to visit. But I don't envy those who live here. How general is this tendency for us to outgrow ownership -- with all its irony and self-impalement -- and replace it with an appreciation that is sincere, flexible, and unbinding? And why not? We don't really own Life; we're just renting it for awhile.

I'm currently enjoying a marvelous example of this in Patagonia AZ.  After doing a couple minor errands the first thing Monday morning, I was furious with being ripped off. There are no bargains in this town. And yet people manage to live here, despite the lack of good-paying jobs. (Obviously there is the usual contingent of wealthy retirees who made their money in the city and are now living in 4000 square foot retirement homes, 20 miles from a grocery store, and passing their time as environmentalists.)

I kept fussing and fuming when I noticed a brightly colored bird flit from the bumper of my RV to a nearby tree. It was unusual to see such a stunner hanging out on your bumper.

This calmed me down. Ah yes, this is why people are here. They are trying to make charm permanent. Personally I don't think that is any more practical than trying to turn a hobby into a job or a girlfriend into a wife. But I wish them luck.

But is it a red-headed woodpecker or an acorn woodpecker? Neither seems quite right. But you'd better believe that there are plenty of people in this birder town who know the answer, and I'll bet a couple of readers do, too.

There is plenty of funky charm and freedom here. Dogs are allowed in the library. I went into the library to find that I still had a library card from four years ago; and it was a card, literally: a 3 X 5 index card, made of paper.

My neighbors run their black labs to the coffee shop in the morning. How do they keep the leashes from tangling?