When It Rains It Pours
Some people frequently change things on their weblogs, and every once in a while I get the idea that I might change something on this one, too. But despite all the improvements that Blogger says it is constantly making, its template is still a bear that isn't easy to confront, especially when a long time has passed since I last tried to accommodate my grasp of English to the template's highly clipped and often indecipherable use of language.
And anyway, whenever I think about making the effort, I end up deciding that I still like the appearance of this weblog just fine and can't find any good reason to change it. And so, so much for that situation that is so universally agreed upon as being always a good thing -- progress -- though many might say I'm showing my age and that, however I might like to think of myself, I am actually just a stick-in-the-mud after all.
I know that that's not a desirable state, and I've tried to avoid it as much as possible, but when enough time passes, I run smack up against another difficulty, and that is the great satisfaction that I feel whenever I see that in spite of everything, something I liked hasn't changed over a long period of time. For instance, take the Morton's salt box.
That blue, white, and yellow cylinder that is to be found on store shelves today is, as far as I can tell, almost identical in every detail to the one that the Morton Co. used 70 or more years ago, when, during the stage of life that you see displayed on my sidebar, I spent large amounts of time contemplating the picture on the box, with its accompanying slogan, both of which I found to be incomparably mysterious.
The picture shows a girl hurrying in a downpour while carrying a large umbrella, and under her other arm is clamped a box of Morton's salt, not vertically but horizontally, and for some reason she has opened the spout. --She must've opened it, because that spout doesn't easily fall open by itself, but now she is heedless of the fact that all the salt is pouring out on the ground, which means there will be none left when she arrives home and her mother sees what has happened. And this image is accompanied by the words: "When it rains, it pours."
When it rains it pours. There you have it, don't you? (Especially during a drought.)
I can't tell you how much it warms my heart that all the implications of that salt box, right down to its colors, size, and shape, are still there, as deep and solid as ever, unchanged despite the massive shifts in so much else that in the meantime have turned the whole world topsy-turvy almost as badly as runaway tectonic plates might do if they could move at such speeds, Over these many years the company has still managed to avoid wasting thousands of dollars on consultants to update and "improve" the box, which long ago would've thrown their product onto the trash heap of consumer history.
This also shows what a great thing it was to have engaged in such appropriate studies at such an early age. A person who has managed that feels vindicated, and he's glad that there are at least a few areas in which the passage of time can't play its usual tricks. Meanwhile, as the old saying goes, it's also as true as ever that it's the little things that count.
And anyway, whenever I think about making the effort, I end up deciding that I still like the appearance of this weblog just fine and can't find any good reason to change it. And so, so much for that situation that is so universally agreed upon as being always a good thing -- progress -- though many might say I'm showing my age and that, however I might like to think of myself, I am actually just a stick-in-the-mud after all.
I know that that's not a desirable state, and I've tried to avoid it as much as possible, but when enough time passes, I run smack up against another difficulty, and that is the great satisfaction that I feel whenever I see that in spite of everything, something I liked hasn't changed over a long period of time. For instance, take the Morton's salt box.
That blue, white, and yellow cylinder that is to be found on store shelves today is, as far as I can tell, almost identical in every detail to the one that the Morton Co. used 70 or more years ago, when, during the stage of life that you see displayed on my sidebar, I spent large amounts of time contemplating the picture on the box, with its accompanying slogan, both of which I found to be incomparably mysterious.
The picture shows a girl hurrying in a downpour while carrying a large umbrella, and under her other arm is clamped a box of Morton's salt, not vertically but horizontally, and for some reason she has opened the spout. --She must've opened it, because that spout doesn't easily fall open by itself, but now she is heedless of the fact that all the salt is pouring out on the ground, which means there will be none left when she arrives home and her mother sees what has happened. And this image is accompanied by the words: "When it rains, it pours."
When it rains it pours. There you have it, don't you? (Especially during a drought.)
I can't tell you how much it warms my heart that all the implications of that salt box, right down to its colors, size, and shape, are still there, as deep and solid as ever, unchanged despite the massive shifts in so much else that in the meantime have turned the whole world topsy-turvy almost as badly as runaway tectonic plates might do if they could move at such speeds, Over these many years the company has still managed to avoid wasting thousands of dollars on consultants to update and "improve" the box, which long ago would've thrown their product onto the trash heap of consumer history.
This also shows what a great thing it was to have engaged in such appropriate studies at such an early age. A person who has managed that feels vindicated, and he's glad that there are at least a few areas in which the passage of time can't play its usual tricks. Meanwhile, as the old saying goes, it's also as true as ever that it's the little things that count.
posted by Carl (aka Sofarsogoo) | 4:05 AM
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