a lot of stuff

Write what you know. Has anyone ever given you that advice? I have spent some time thinking this over and wondering, just what did Madeleine L’Engle know about time travel? And what in the world provoked Ray Bradbury and that creepy carousel? So heck with the old chestnut “write what you know.” Today I am writing about what I don’t know.

I don’t know why people take to the couch or bed. Call me insensitive but no matter how down in the black books I get, a quick walk or a punishing hike seems to straighten my world out. Get off your ass and do something would be my advice. Not that anyone is asking.

I don’t know why there is exclamation over tiny creations. You know those straight pins with the entire Old Testament engraved on the head? Or those tiny sculptures that require a microscope for viewing. And of course that begs the question, what on earth motivates the artists of these teeny creations? And is there any money to be made at this? Is there a market for art that cannot be seen without being magnified a 1000 times? Not that anyone is asking.

I don’t know why people have to be so mean and short tempered. That would include me. And I think lots of people ask.

I don’t know how to swim. I can dog paddle and do a few strokes to get across a pool. But if I fell of a boat I would likely drown. And even worse I really have no desire to learn. I prefer to sit on the pool steps or better still, to sit beside the ocean.


I don’t know any foreign languages. I studied French in school and have attempted to learn Spanish an embarrassing number of times. I can ask you to open the window in French and order a shot of tequila in Spanish. Funny that I have never really needed any other words.

I don’t know why cruel people exist. They are like mosquitoes. The world just does not need them.

I don’t know left from right. I always have to consider and use those childhood clues that I learned in the first place. I can only hope that I never find myself in a life and death situation, like dodging boulders while blindfolded as someone screams directions. You never know, it could happen.

I don’t know why people are suddenly rushing to buy vinyl (as records are now known). We rejoiced in the technology that let us hear our own music in the car and out on a run. Now people are again tethered to a turntable. Not to mention the dripping sanctimony about the high quality sound found in those vinyl grooves. I am waiting for the rediscovery of 8 track. That pure hiss and snap of the tape should drive the hipsters mad with joy.

I really don’t know why we have Twitter. I have tried. I really have.

I don’t know why the deal is with politics. Or maybe the deal is the deal. Do the corrupt flock to office or does the office corrupt? It is a chicken and egg conundrum. I feel like there must be some good people who go into politics. Can anyone point some of them out?

Now you know. I don’t know a lot and I can write about it. Socrates is reputed to have said “True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing.” I guess this means I will never have true knowledge. Most likely I will never be a person who knows enough about anything to be called an expert. But I really do know a little about a lot of stuff and I will save it all for another day.

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Nancy Melton

Nancy Melton

Nancy Melton has recently added "writer" to her biography. She works in the health insurance industry which has somehow become public enemy number one these days. She is proudest of her role as a wife, mother and grandmother (although writer comes dang close) and wishes she could still claim to be someone's daughter.

  1. Great read, Nancy. Gave me more than a few laughs over breakfast. And I don’t know,either, why cruel people continue to bounce down the bunny trail while good ones get picked off. cheers

  2. Eileen Dight

    I agree, knowing a little about a lot is preferable to the esoteric, although Socrates was right too: further ed. reveals the depth of our ignorance. You’re a philosopher – life is too short to be grumpy – and a better linguist than you admit, you speak beyond tequila: “vino, ginebra, limon, agua, cafe, te, por favor.” Always love your stuff, Nancy.

  3. Will Cantrell

    Though I was a little late in getting to it, this was a great piece, Nancy. I enjoyed it immensely. Will

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