|A Feast Is More Than Enough
||[Apr. 13th, 2012|03:06 am]
Tonight, as I was re-shelving some 78’s, I realized something about myself. I basically live for 2 things – records and Furries.
Records. Not music, not Prog, not Rock & Roll. Just records. CD’s are nice for listening to something him the car, MP3’s are nice for DJing on Second Life. But I don’t have a lifelong collecting fascination with any other recording medium.
I like records. I like how they look on the turntable. I like that they come with art. I like that they come with a punctuation of time caused by the fact that you have to turn them over, and sometimes continue to the next record.
CD’s leave a lot to be desired. You can’t watch them play, the album art is too small to be thrilling, and they play non-stop for 80 minutes. So you lose that feeling of the being at the halfway point, or the quarter point for a double album.
MP3’s are nice, but they have no solid presence, and thus no collectible value.
So, I just like records. All kinds of records. Big records, little records, music records, dramatic records, comedy records, adult records, kiddie records. I just have a thing for plastic waffles that spin, even if they do have surface noise, which can actually add to their appeal with me, as long as it’s not too intrusive. Heck, just imagine you have a nice fire going in the fireplace. You’d be hearing the same crackling with your other sounds.
I’ve been fascinated with records as far back as I can remember. It’s an all-consuming passion. And how many all-consuming passions does one person need? Yet, I have another.
Furries. What do Furries have to do with records? Well, you can get some records about Furries, but on the whole the two hobbies don’t have much in common. So why would someone who’s so into records be so into Furries? I mean, it’s not like Furries spin or anything like that.
None the less, I love Furries. The fascination is not for Furries in cartoons, books, not movies or comics, figurines or plushies, not even Furry art or Furry Fandom itself. I just dig Furries in any shape or form. It’s a fixation – like it’s programed into my DNA. Things that spin and things with cute furry faces just draw my fascination like a magnet.
And that is pretty much my whole life, as far as things I do for myself goes. I do a lot of other stuff for other people, but for myself it’s like I didn’t come to Earth for the usual stuff, like money, sex, religion and so forth. It’s like I came just for the records and the Furries.
Upon realizing this I asked myself, is that enough? These two things are just hobbies. A hobby is supposed to be the icing on the cake of life. Where’s my cake?
The only thing I can think of is that my cake must be the stuff I do for others. That does seem to occupy the biggest part of my life sometimes. Though it doesn’t seem I was ever meant to get married and have a family of my own in the real world – never meant to be anyone who’d leave a big mark on history. It just seems amazing to me how easy it is to do without those more common fixations that everyone else seems to take for granted.
Maybe I’ll understand all this better someday. But the important thing is I’m not bothered by a sense of anything lacking. I’d take love if it was offered in the real world, but I don’t expect it, and consequently I don’t miss it. I suppose I’d take a good job if it was offered. Heck, I’d even take public office if I was called to it. Or be the guru of my own religion, if enough people wanted me to. But the minute I got some free time for myself, I’d still be spinning records and looking at something Furry, because that’s what makes life enjoyable. And I wouldn’t be having any fun if life wasn’t enjoyable.
So, I guess the point of all this is to ask, “Are you having any fun?”