Bored or Fickle. Is That a Question?

I hate people who yawn in my face. If I'd wanted a full view of tonsils or teeth, complete with questionable aroma therapy, I'd have been a dentist. I also hate the full frontal view of people whose eyes have glazed over...the ones who zone out either because they don't know what the conversation is about, they don't care what the conversation is about, or they have an inability to hold a conversation but the ability to lock their knees and sleep on their feet. I also hate myself for the ability to emulate most of these actions. It's depressing.

I don't think I'm fickle. At least I'm not fickle in the standard definition of being flippantly changeable, but I do reserve the right and the obligation to change my mind or my viewpoint when new evidence or information is presented. People actually can change; we can change our behavior for good or ill, we can change our appearance for good or ill and we can change our attitudes and views, again for good or ill. The old adage that 'a leopard doesn't change it's spots,' is actually valid only for leopards, and when was the last time you were up close and personal with a leopard?

I also don't think I'm boring, except maybe on occasions when I opine at length about something that interests me but might not offer the same mental challenge to others. I also hate to admit that I can grow bored - rapidly. That's an unfortunate talent in that it can become a social liability. One yawns at other people and one's eyes glaze over and after a while locked knees so you can stand upright while sleeping give you a hitch in your stride when you walk away from what bored you in the first place. So many vicious circles available in life that it's actually a bore.

People, whether as a group or individuals, should never be boring simply because people are as varied and different from each other as it is possible to be. Some of life's best lessons are learned by watching, listening, or interacting with other people. You not only can learn how to do different things, but why you should do them, of in some cases, why you shouldn't. That kind of learning can be fun, ridiculous, joyous, absurd, curious and everything in between, but it is rarely routine. That's why it is so sad when people turn boring.

The most boring people are the ones who hold steadily to the same ideas and opinions at 50 that they inherited from their parents at 10. Such people rarely try anything new or different, refuse to entertain other points of view than their own, have no curiosity about other cultures or ideas, and slowly circle in the same rut they've walked for the past twenty years, staring only at their own feet. One of the most boring sub-groups in this boring people group is old young people, and one of the most interesting and entertaining sub-groups in all of humanity is the young oldster, always ready to openly approach something new.

Both ritual and rote tradition bore me. Housework definitely bores me. Religious services of every variety bore me. So do voices that drone on at the same tempo and timbre, the nasal tones of bluegrass singers, women who talk about their stretch marks and their children to the exclusion of any interesting topics, men who wouldn't recognize my face in a crowd but could easily identify my boobs in a line-up, and the bland, endless drive on Interstate 80, especially through Pennsylvania, Ohio and Kansas.

One of my constant cures for boredom is reading. I read a great deal and I read on myriad topics and although I prefer the printed page, I also read on-line news, commentary and blog offerings. As with everything, I have my favorites, but they only remain viable as long as they are fresh, creative, and well done. I had great fun with the fetish-type blogs for a while, but lately they all seem to be angst driven and predictable. Boring. Even some of the more creative writer-type bloggers and journal writers have tested my ho-hum factor lately. I mean, give me a break - if your love life is always in turmoil or roiling in anxiety or sex, lies and face-book, shouldn't you try something different? You're saying and doing today the same thing you said and did a year, or two years or three years ago, to the exact same result. And how is that working for you?

We all know that anyone with a computer and Internet access has the option of whiling away idle hours looking at or reading porn. I did my stint with the on-line games at Pogo and also did my stint with the on-line porn at various much touted sites. (I wrote that with tongue in cheek while laughing like a lunatic.) I became especially curious about BDSM, primarily because I didn't understand it. I've followed along with a good number of those blogs for the past couple years and must admit I understand it even less. I don't condemn anyone for their fetish or personal preferences, but I have to admit, even these unusual variations on sexual mores get boring after a while, and while a man might get away with wearing leather at 65, a woman of the same age dressed up like a school girl with her hair in pigtails looks downright silly. When my yawn factor goes up, my tolerance for boredom goes down proportionately.

Some of the book authors I discovered years ago also lose their place in my affections and esteem because they grow boring. So much in the world of publishing, like all profit-center areas, has become formulae, and for me that's a death knell to the creative. Stephen King is one of those. He had me with Cujo and Christine, but he eventually lost me forever with his approach to Horror Redux and Redux and Redux. John Grisham is another. What makes him think lawyers are perennially interesting? Sheesh. Nora Roberts and Howard Fast, both far too prolific to be interesting because you can practically see where everything was pre-printed and they just filled in the blanks, like character name and occupation. Of course, there are some writers I enjoyed who don't write as much as they used to. Perhaps they got bored with themselves.

Could it be that I also get bored with myself? It's a definite possibility, if not a probability. I've always tried new things, and continued with those I enjoyed without thinking a great deal about it. I've been fortunate to be well traveled both here at home and abroad although there are a few places I've missed that I'll never have the opportunity or financial resources to manage now. There are also a few things I'd always planned to try that I'll probably miss - like hang gliding and visiting Antarctica but my attempt to do either these days would be about as bad as that 65 year old school girl with the fetish. Am I being fickle?

My dreams which used to be grandiose and somewhat bellicose, too, have diminished as I've grown wiser. I still have dreams, quite a number of different ones, but they are smaller and more intimate in scope. Dreams, whether my own or those shared by others, are rarely boring, even if the dreamer is fickle. Also, dreams are the playground of those who are young in heart and mind. They are the catnip and chew toys for humans, as necessary as the air we breathe and the water we drink. Dreams expand the soul and keep us nimble. Best of all, dreams are never boring.

Because I was always active and could always find something interesting to do, even among sedentary activities, my ex-husband used to tell people I could have fun in a closet. It might have sounded like a subtle put down, but it was actually a compliment. I never needed anyone else to determine my path, or take my hand, or find something to occupy my time. I was rarely bored or had idle hands, and a closet would be a wonderful place for day dreams and play. Of course, this is also one of the reasons why I have an ex-husband. As with so much else, I never fit the normal pattern or needing to be around other people to alleviate boredom.