Don't let it get monotonous
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
So where would you like to go for lunch tomorrow?" asks my friend Tony. This Friday appointment has become a pattern. "Let's try something different," he says. For Tony, who has lived two decades beyond the biblical promise of three-score and ten, lack of monotony has been a lifetime quest.
It probably started long before he trekked across their family wheat field west of town, as a young sprout, with his brothers in tow to see the train for themselves. I know it continued when he decided to join the Navy and see the world. Lack of monotony was one reason he chose to settle in San Francisco when he retired, although he made regular trips to Ramona. His mind is always curious, always searching whether it's the auctioneers convention, the belly button fathometer or the latest dinosaur exhibit.
"You just can't let things get monotonous," Tony said to me as we drove toward Woodbine, "Turn east," he commanded, "we'll take a different route." Just the directive to turn east made things interesting for me — I'm still a left/right kind of person and north/south, east/west directives make my brain spin.
"Monotony will get you, if you aren't careful," Tony went on and then he chuckled. "Remember when I sent the check to my niece and nephew for graduation and I made them out for $99.99?"
I remembered. And I also knew why he'd done it. "I could send them a $100 bill but they'd spend it tomorrow and never remember it. But $99.99 they'll remember." So instead of a twenty-dollar bill, a loved one might receive $33.33 or instead of $50 a $67.89. I, too, love the interesting, the memorable, the quixotic and loathe the mundane.
When Tony made Ramona his home base a couple of years ago, monotony was one of the things he was worried about. "In San Francisco there is something new happening every few minutes!" he said to me. He and I both knew that in Ramona you could go all day — maybe even all week — without something happening to relieve the monotony.
And monotony is something neither Tony nor I can tolerate. Quiet? Yes. Slower pace? Okay. But let's not get redundant.
Conversations can even get monotonous with its "How are you?" and "I'm fine, thank-you." Predictably, continuing on with, "So what you think of this weather we're havin'?"
Even words get monotonous. My old friend, Doc, held the belief that in order for a word to be truly interesting it needed more than three syllables. None of this "woah," "cool," "Wow!" stuff with expletives deleted. He loved batting words around like discombobulate and plethora.
One time just for the kicks of it, I wrote a piece of poetry filled with made-up words: Tuberlundin blockinstein, doesn't tell you what I mean, Blibberwaken clumdifew will not mean a thing to you. Gibeenfalder, migglewalk, isn't normal people talk, Whoominhollder, redunderation, discombobbled communication. Different, certainly not monotonous, eh?
What lengths we go to keep things interesting. It's why we plan events in Ramona, like 4th of July Parades, Tea Parties, Scare Crows and Christmas light extravaganzas. We can't let life get ho-hum, boring, dreary, same-old-same-old. Never monotonous.
"Turn west," Tony commanded as we headed for home. "I'll show you a new way home that I bet you've never taken."
It's just another day in the country and I'm on a quest for something unusual, something interesting. When the day is over I'll watch the sun set over the prairie. Brilliant colors, unusual clouds, breathtaking — never monotonous, I guarantee it!
