I quit

For one month, I have not posted a blog entry.
Nor have I beaten anyone to death, poked any eyes, bitten off any fingers, or punted a cute puppy over a tall fence.
Or smoked one cigarette.
I kept my attendance record clean and attended our monthly Vancouver Kilts Night. I even got fairly drunk, just to show I could get drunk and still not smoke.

In the past month, I came to at least one realisation.
I was checking out the constellations, stargazing, whatever you want to call it, pondering the incredible insignificance of the survival of life on just one of the billions of planets.
Then I thought of some of the questions I've read on the kilt forums.
There is so much nitpicking as to how to 'properly' wear a kilt. Which socks look right, what is the difference between casual and casual/dress, underwear or commando, etc.
Here's my realisation; it doesn't frigging matter!
There are more important things I like to think about. Like, what's for dinner? What time is Stargate on? If we know what gravity is, why don't we know what anti-gravity is? Who did frame Roger Rabbit?
I wear the stuff I used to wear when I wore pants. I occasionally give a small amount of thought to sock up or socks down, but I usually rely on the weather for my answer.
Life is just too short for much of the BS we inflict upon ourselves. How much of your life do you want to spend deciding on fashion choices?

I have learned some simple truths in my 47.5 years. As someone who likes to pare things down to their basics, I can often convey simple truths in simple ways.
Pain is a warning.
When someone says, "don't worry," ... worry.
Never tell when you can show.
Kilts are healthier than pants.

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