My “Eccentricity”

In the prior blog entry I mentioned that the neighbors, some of them, regard me as eccentric –and I don’t want to add to their perception of me as peculiar.  I do know, of course , that eccentricity–especially mine!–is actually “eccentricity”.  It’s all relative, yes.

I’m just a bit different. I like to move amongst them, usually, as if I’m not. I’m a writer. Any good writer is a spy–a spy in a foreign land. His own land is the foreign land. He’s got to take notes (or simply take note)  as if he’s a foreign spy, or an anthropologist, or both.

Of course I’m not so very eccentric. I’m not a hoarder of cats or anything else; I don’t dance in the moonlight, naked, calling out to Gaia. I don’t put tinfoil over the windows to keep out Those Rays. (I don’t mind those rays.)

I am a member of the Democratic Party and support Obama for President. That’s not eccentric. I’m not a member of the Peace, Prunes and Pickles for All party. (I do hope there is one.) But on the other hand, just under the surface…many people might regard as eccentric my belief that someday the USA will be a member-state in a world government, the same way that California is currently a state in the USA. And they might think my belief that  world government will be a good thing is an even more eccentric notion.

When I walk about the neighborhood with the dogs I listen to different things on my iPod than most people about here do. Quite different, I’d guess. I’m in the sonic world of  Rocket from the Crypt or Primus or Captain Beefheart or the Stooges or Penderecki while they’re in the sonic world of Beyonce or the Beachboys (we have a lot of retired people here) or The Black Eyed Peas.  I take off the earphones, at times, and take note (of their notes).

Now and then I think I glimpse someone following me…some anthropologist doing a paper on social anomalies…

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