I spent the afternoon wandering through Asheville’s L.O.F.T. (Lost Objects Found Treasures) store on Merrimon Ave. I was trying to find a gift for a colleague in my office. I wasted the majority of my 45 minutes entertaining myself at the thought of our accountant’s reaction to a check request and receipt for a book entitled “Poopendous!” or “Thoughts from the Commode.” Nothing sings professional praises like an office adornment that says “You’re the mac to my cheese and the gee to my whiz.” Not finding anything deeply moving, I headed to the cards and came across one that said something along the lines of "All of the great artists, inventors, athletes, revolutionaries and poets didn't start out that way." I really like that idea, and it's stuck with me like poo to a shoe for the rest of the evening. Now, I sit here hyperventilating (you think I'm kidding) over my website for WinnersWords and I hear myself asking, "Is this really necessary?" Why on earth am I focusing on the widgets and pattywacks of my website, neither of which I fully care to understand, when all I want to be doing is writing? If I could have a moment with all of the inventors, athletes and writers that were lumped into greatness, I would like to ask them: how can you tell what is necessary and what is superfluous when you are carving out your own path?
I'll let you mull that one over for awhile, or pass it along to any of the Greats you may be rubbing elbows with in your inner... or peripheral circles (no judgment). Have them forward their epiphanies to Rachel@winnerswords.com. Thanks. To take it down a philosophical notch, I found myself asking this same question of necessity shortly after leaving the LOFT. Upon entering the parking garage, I came across this sign:
I want to know who the hell needed this picture in order to survive the treacherous turn from the entry of the parking garage into the stairwell. In case you can’t see, this is a right turn. If you do not turn right, you could potentially fall off of a small sidewalk cliff. The scaffolding, however, might save you from the deadly four-foot tumble. But in case you didn’t see the neon orange scaffolding, or the no more walkway part, some thoughtful Samaritan with no regard for natural selection has illuminated the proper turn into the stairwell with a laminated sign. Oh great, affluent and world-dominating American society, is this really necessary?