Friday, June 18, 2010


In a world where everything is just too, i try not to do too much of anything. Nothing too flowery, indulgent, hippy-blissful or trite. Being as that's how most of my stuff is, nothing else gets writ.

Except for the usual epithet, i suppose. Lately there's this one that's been getting poured to the curb, for a few whom the title fits: "that mortal example of their time."

I've been reading this book about the creator of Time magazine, Briton Hadden, who sank his teeth into the world of journalism in the 1920's and forever changed it. What grew back from those bites was a scar tissue superior to the original, a new way of writing that favored the Homeric epithet over the exhaustive description. In between madcap hours at the helm of the soon-to-be-giant Time, Hadden lived raucously in the speakeasies of New York and Cleveland, and died in his early 30's. He, the man who could have been a magnate, was that mortal example of his time.

Then there's the way history will remember this time now -- this economically turbulent time -- almost 100 years after Hadden. Here now, while trying to maintain a level of humility that says 'i neither deserve nor don't deserve this,' i know that i too am that mortal example of my time. I've lost my job, and now totaled my financed car. Parallel to the moves that are being made all over this country, i am now in my own employ, and choosing buying outright over another financed vehicle. Small business owner over corporate slave. Cash over credit. History will record these moves, similar to how i now live them. The mortal example of my time.

(Or maybe just one of the many to be pushed and pulled and forced into decision making due to the constraints of the time?)

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