Sunday, February 10, 2013

THE CHOICES WE MAKE

Sunday night: The Grammy Awards or the midseason return of The Walking Dead? The choice was obvious. No need to overthink.

Having a no-brainer on my plate was a relief. Life is too complicated. A dozen varieties of Camel cigarettes demand equal consideration at the Kum & Go. Drinking tea requires choosing the right tea; a guy could spend hours contemplating the boxes full of bags. If I allowed myself the luxury I would spend hours at the Hy-Vee, just marveling at the selection of peppers.

Choice anxiety has always been a problem for me, even before the proliferation of Camel (for the record, it's all about Turkish Silver, unless you're a badass digging the non-filter fags). Despite my zooming brain I prefer the simple life. Because of my zooming brain I have a tough time settling on choices. I think too much.

I've known people at the other end of the spectrum. They make choices with ease, often changing their capricious mind on a dime and defending their decisions with that wispy slip of a catchphrase: "It's my choice." Sure sure, but they forget that they share the world with others. Their choices are actions, and like it or not, actions have consequences. That they don't bother to think about the consequences says a lot about their selfish ways.

Tonight was easy; my only consequence was missing the red carpet coverage, and the good people at the Times on both coasts, east and west, have it covered. Moloney has texted the highlights from the Grammys, helpfully informing me that Chris Brown is still a douchetard.

I'm taking a lesson or two from tonight — first, that life is too complex to treat it like a night of TV watching, unless you want your life to be that shallow. And second, zombies rock.

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