"What's the point…?" It
is really too easy just to finish that question with "...of it all?”
The cowards way out perhaps to choose something so cliche. I always read that phrase with a Gallic
shrug in mind. One of those full body shrugs that involves shoulders and
eyebrows and lips and cheeks and a bend of the head and a finishing flick of
the hands, palms skyward with a soft grunting“meh
to finish it all off. A complete 3-course meal of a shrug if you will.
When I was younger I used to the think the point of things
was the finishing of things for the sale of them or the showing off of them or
the pay cheque of them. Now I'm not so sure.
More and more I think of the point of the thing as being the
process behind achieving the thing or making the thing or acquiring the thing.
Maybe that is the wisdom of age or the long and lonely journeyman years of
being a writer or the new and unpredictable apprenticeship of the guitar, or
even the quite reflection of spending time with an aging parent, listening to
their stories one more time, fixing the TV one more time, sharing yet another
of thousands upon thousands of good meals and good bye hugs.
Yes, there is my answer anyway. The point of the thing is
the doing of the thing.
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