“I’m Bored!”

‘Bored’: the universal cry of children all across America.

For all I know, children the world over may claim boredom – to be sure, my students in China certainly said they were bored. Actually, they said they felt boring... an adjective misuse.

But then, they were not exactly children; more like young adults.

True, they were fairly confined by university procedures and restrictions and, giving due to China’s technology sector, there is only so much of it a mind can employ before a longing manifests for new horizons, even electronic ones. 

Finally away from home and hungry to experience life, those students found themselves stymied at every turn by strict rules and financial constraints – much like people bordering on adulthood everywhere do.

By the time they did taste life – working part-time jobs so they could have money to spend on ‘life’, they found it mundane; dull, in fact.

But children? Those between ages seven to thirteen? My limited exposure to that age group outside of America reveals no instances of that exclamation. At least, none that I can remember.

There is a word for boredom in all of the languages I know; surely it cannot be an abstract concept that only few experience!

My kids grew up in America and, like so many children, they occasionally asserted that they were bored. They had good reason to, I suppose.

For much of their growing up, we didn’t have cable TV. They didn’t have many toys and we didn’t live in the best neighborhoods, where it would be safe to play outside or even make friends.

Son suffered especially because he despised reading; to this day he does not read for pleasure. So, whereas Daughter and I could relish the prospect of the type of entertainment only a library could bring, he, more often than not, had to find other ways to amuse himself.

We cooked together, cleaned together, played together – board games, outside games... still, there were instances where they felt time stretching like taffy.

Invariably, when they declared they were bored, I shot back: “Life is not perpetual excitement. You have to find ways to entertain yourself!

I now find amusement in the fact that Daughter spouts the same line to her daughter when that darling redhead moans about boredom.

With all of that being said, the topic of this week is not my boredom; it’s the fact that I have nothing to report on.

The temps are mild and the air is clear. I sit in my garrett and write – for you, for my clients and for myself.

Evenings, I grab my walking poles and march vigorously up and down the leafy, green medians that  divide the boulevards close to my house. Sometimes, I opt for a bike ride.

Grocery shopping and other household chores happen as needed.

In the evening, a bit of something to watch (thank you, online streaming!), a restful slumber and do it all again the next day, and the next, and the next... 

Once a week, language class. Once a month, hair cut. Twice a month, Meetup. When our schedules coincide, a dinner with Luisa and Ewelina.

To quote a popular song of my youth: “...no jolts, no surprises; no crisis arises; my life goes along as it should...”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the awe and wonder that shadowed my China adventure and how, in contrast to living here, that world seemed one of perpetual excitement: everywhere something to see and exclaim over!

Here, everyone and everything is... hmm... bland.

I can’t say normal because ‘normal’ means different things depending on where in the world you live.

In some countries it is normal for women to be covered head to toe. In China, it is normal for women to dance in the streets in the evening.

Here, it is normal to be outdoors when the weather is nice. I know this because our green spaces are full of people – strolling around or taking a rest on the many benches while small children squeal and play on the playground.

It is normal to have a pet. In my newfound fitness workout of pumping up and down grassy medians, I compete for space with the many dogs who normally gambol in that space.

It was those dogs and their walkers that gave me the idea to make use of the medians for my Nordic walking.

It is normal to behave... for the most part. I say that with the remembrance of graffiti.

 Even the drunks manage to put on a bit of decorum, whether sleeping it off on the pavement or stumbling around only half-clad in these warm days.

It is normal to be appropriately dressed. Save for the abovementioned drunks, everyone wears clothes that fit and neatly tied shoes, polished slip-ons or, more recently, sandals.

Even those miscreants that caused a ruckus in our building were decently dressed and well-groomed.

No pants worn butt-level or below the butt, no unlaced boots... and, while a few men wear their ballcaps backwards, I’ve yet to see anyone wear such a hat with the bill facing in any other direction than back or front.

The younger, prettier girls tend to wear form-fitting or revealing clothing but most of us are fairly demurely clad: no short-shorts, no bellies or boobs hanging out... 

I find none of this boring; it is just life a’happening.

However, it does leave little to write to you about. This is supposed to be a culture and travel story; not my day-to-day-living story!

And so, as I ponder next week’s entry, I leave you with a comfortable slice of life as it happens.