Skip to main content

Fascination

In this episode, Fascination . . .

Why do people experience boredom? Have you ever pondered this question? I searched my dictionary for the word “bored," but it appears to have no meaning. Or maybe someone tore that page out? Anyway–

Some may argue, "Come on, be realistic; surely there are moments when you can't find anything engaging to do."

Obviously, we all experience times every day when we sit and stare with a glassy gaze, contemplating our world.

When you decide to schedule some free time, I challenge you to pick up a book outside your usual reading habits. Lately, I've been intrigued by Isaac Asimov's short stories from the book Nightfall, which I mentioned in last week's On the Fly podcast. 

Today, I read the 1954 story “It's Such a Beautiful Day." The story is set in a futuristic society (2117) where transportation is primarily done through teleportation devices called “Doors."

The tale follows Dickie Hanshaw, a young boy who lives in a world where outdoor activities are rare due to the convenience of these Doors. One day, his family’s Door malfunctions, forcing him to walk – to school for the first time. This unexpected and traumatic experience (according to his mother) introduces him to the beauty of the natural world: the sun, the wind, the flowers, and the trees.

Dickie becomes fascinated by the outdoors and starts to spend more and more time exploring. His behavior becomes increasingly unusual, leading his mother to worry and seek help from a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist, however, begins to understand Dickie's perspective and realizes that the boy's connection to nature is a healthy and valuable experience.

Asimov masterfully intertwines suspense, fear, creativity, and joy. This story unequivocally explores themes of societal conditioning, the vital importance of human connection with nature, and the potential for unexpected discoveries, even in the most familiar surroundings. Fascinating–An inspiring testament to the human mind's ability to break free from the monotony of daily life and discover the thrill of creative expression.

So, my listening friends, I ask again: 'Are you bored?'

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Don Hanley said…
And I fine moving my little finger a marvel. How do I do this?

Most Popular of All Time

The Compass of Cuba: Mom

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...

Believing Is Seeing

🎄 In this episode, Believing Is Seeing . . . It's December, we bustle, we wrap, and we dash. We sort life into boxes— myths  here,  to-dos  in a stash. We whisper of Santa (adult code: “Not Real”), but hold on one minute—let’s rethink this whole deal. For the stories we cherish, the movies we stream, hold more truth in their sparkle than we grown-ups may deem. So hop in this sleigh and hold on real tight— We’re chasing down Santa by the glow of his light! Scott Calvin once landed in the North Pole’s cold air, with elves, cocoa, and snow everywhere. He squinted and frowned—“This just  cannot  be so!” (Like thinking tangled lights will detangle if we  blow .) Then Judy the Elf gave a cocoa so steaming,  and said something simple . . . yet surprisingly gleaming: Seeing’s not believing—no, that’s not the key. "Believing is seeing!"   Just trust, and  you’ll  see!” Kids don’t need a map or a satellite screen to know Santa’s workshop is her...

Stamps and Snow

In this episode, Stamps and Snow . . .   You don’t usually walk into the local Post Office expecting a time warp . . . but here we are. All we wanted were stamps for this year's Christmas cards— yes, the old-fashioned paper ones that require licking, sticking, and hoping the Postal Service is feeling ambitious this week. But holiday errands have a talent for slowing you down, almost like the universe whispering, “Relax. You’re not getting out of this line any faster anyway.” So we waited. And while we waited, we talked (Are you surprised?). Because the Post Office is one of the few places where people still look up from their phones long enough to talk . . . Maybe it's because they're holding packages. It’s the modern town square: part civic duty, part free entertainment, part sociology experiment. The discussion began with holiday specials streaming on Netflix, Paramount+, and other services during this time of year. One gentleman who has lived in Vista since 1958 told us,...

A Holiday Reflection–Mother's Love

In this episode,  How a Mother’s Love Built My Memories– A Holiday Reflection As this holiday season approaches and the world buzzes with shopping, planning, and busy schedules, I find myself embracing something wonderfully simple: taking a moment to pause. Not to check off a list or recharge devices, but to breathe deeply, remember fondly, and honor the person and place that have shaped my sense of home long before I had the words for it. This year, after regaining my strength from a lingering post-travel fog, my mind didn’t wander to exotic destinations or future adventures. It drifted backward—across oceans and time—to Cuba, Illinois, in the early 1960s, and to the woman whose love built the foundation of my world: Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom . We came to Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition so dramatic I only appreciate its enormity now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped off that plane and into the Midwest with a courage that s...