If you were “fortunate” enough to read my Blogroll Addition post about the “Jack Goes Forth” blog the other day, you should have a pretty good understanding of my assessment of the state of bloggery in this day and age. You’ll realize that I’m a firm believer in blogging as a tool of the democratization of mankind’s global voice.
I have no doubt that the supposed art of blogging will eventually evolve to a point in which it is literally transformed into a global beehive consisting of billions of tiny voices all speaking and blogging and tweeting simultaneously and finally the old science fiction notion of a “hive consciousness” will become a reality. The human race will blend and coalesce into one immense amorphous mass of individual….STOP!
Why do I do this?
Inevitably, and without fail, I get myself worked up and turn into a raging buffoon when an idea takes hold of me. A trait which is incredibly and shamefully pronounced now that I’m maintaining a blog where I am the sole master and proprietor of my own market of ideas. I appear to have no self-constraints! In this…market. Market of ideas. Cool phrase! Speaking of which, you know what I have always loved, and I mean loved more than just about anything? Going to the market. The market completely captured my fancy as a child; the aisles were like little cities with towering buildings, all scrunched in this area and co-existing in one big buzzing and hectic framework, just like a city. Over in aisle 1 someone was squeezing a lemon or reading the label on a bottle of juice while here in aisle 10 someone might be weighing the advantages to buying one can of sardines over another. A mass of different worlds each with its own group of inhabitants going about their business here in this grand village.
Yep, that’s how I saw the markets as a kid. I was a peculiar child. And I’d like to report that I outgrew my peculiar-ness…but I’m sorry, I can’t. I still love the grocery store although the aisles no longer fascinate me nearly like they used to and definitely not for the same reasons. The market is a magical place and recently I became acquainted with a blog entitled Mostly Grocery run by a fellow from Oregon, PkWynn, with the tagline “‘Exaggerated’ Stories of a Grocery Worker”…and guess what? He delivers a refreshing take on what it’s like to actually work and run a grocery store, from annoying customers with lame jokes to customers who feign blindness in order to bring their mutt shopping.
It’s Triumph of the Mundane. I hope Mr. Wynn does not take unkindly to the “mundane” label but I mean absolutely no ill will. The simple act of living, day in, day out, the rigmarole of waking up and going to work, the incessant and ritualistic greetings we must share with all those we come in contact with…those are the nuts and bolts of the infinite and beautiful living moments which form our waking lives. There is beauty in that; there is an omniscient sorta rapture to realize that there are millions and millions and billions of such moments occurring throughout the day on the stages which are our lives. And bloggers, by relaying the routine happenings of their day are responsible for capturing but a fraction of the world’s stage at any one point in time. PkWynn does it wonderfully; his blog provides but one snapshot into one man’s life, a life I never would have known had it not been for the bloghive.
I’ve learned to value the mundane and the routine; which when communicated with originality and humor is nearly untouchable. I absolutely celebrate the mundane on this blog (see Moments in Time). Remembering a specific incident from earlier in the day with startling detail can actually provide a sense of catharsis; and for this reason I celebrate the celebration of the ordinary that Mostly Grocery is such an integral part of.