Eh, What's a Minute Anyway

Last Saturday found me in Ann Arbor. Pioneer High School to be specific. More or less, I was there, sitting on my brains for three hours as I muddled through the SAT. What a picnic - if your idea of a picnic consists of NASA quality math problems and extraterrestrial formulas. Needless to say, it was just dandy. As I wandered my way through one of the seven sections, I "chose" to read two small articles on different perceptions of time, other than the chronological. You know, like February after January, 1954 after 1953. That sort of thing. It spoke of perceptions of time in various cultures, like Native American. One of the main things I picked up was that some people see no use for chronological succession of events. I could see this turning into a intellectual struggle. It's one of the questions, much like the presence of God, that people can never answer. I know, God is real and can be proven so, but thinking of the sheer magnitude is enough to send any brain in a reeling headache. Time could have that potential. What are seconds, really? Is it a made-up figure to give us some sense of purpose and control? Perhaps. I really can't see any ground being gained on this discussion, but it's something to think about.

After pondering the unsolvable for a while, it came to my attention that I had spent three of my fifteen minutes just thinking. Thinking is never bad, but try to curb the thought process when rushed - it helps. Soon enough, it became clear this issue wasn't going to leave me. I began to think of living in a culture where time was not of the essence. We've been living in a society where people base their lives around the precious ticks of an intangible clock. Quite frankly, it's truly a universal battle. Us versus Time. Unfortunately, that old Geezer known as Father Time kicks our asses. Sort of reminds me Apollo Creed getting walloped by the Russian fellow. All in all, I'd say that this small mental struggle of mine produced only benevolent thoughts, or at least inspiration. It's pointless for us to count the seconds of every day. What do we gain? A sense of security? If that's the case, then my nextdoor neighbor's poodle makes me feel safer than time ever will. Don't get me wrong, I'm not worried about time, and I don't necessarily fear it (unless the wings are down with 2 minutes to go, but that's a whole 'nother story), it's more so a sense of "who needs it". I'd say it's pretty obvious that we're going die. That's a rather fair assumption. So where's the need to count down? That's just depressing. Besides, we never know when we're going make our great last stand, so whatever clock we do keep could be off by mere seconds, or entire decades.

I say we borrow a page from the Native Americans. And no, I don't mean slap on some war paint and shoot some bison. Like I said before, time is not always of the essence.