little boxes.

There’s a new job in the mix these days, so for the first time in six months, I have to go somewhere to work (at least a few days a week). It’s a 30 minute walk to get there, so I’m back in the wonderful habit of walking to work, leaving lots of good time for thinking and podcast-listening (this morning, this one). The street I walk down is cheerful, mostly houses and old apartment buildings, not too bustling, but also not too quiet to be unnerving after dark. There are plenty of Christmas lights out. It’s good for my brain to be walking again, walking with a destination in mind. It’s one of the most satisfying things I know.

This evening, on my way back, I stopped in a small bookstore in our neighborhood. I slowly perused the shelves. I was the only one in the shop, so the shopkeeper chatted with me. I decided, on a whim, to buy myself a random book, whatever looked good. I picked this up.

After I left the bookstore, further down the road, I passed a newer apartment building. Condos, I’m guessing, boxy with big front windows. The building was three stories, with two units on each floor. Six big airy windows facing the street, belonging to six different people. In each window, I could see a big flat screen TV attached to the wall. In each window, the TV was on.

I mean, I watch TV too. Maybe not as much as the average person, but I watch my fair share (lately more than my fair share of this). But……….man did it make me feel sad. All of those little houses just the same, TVs just the same, life just the same.