Realism:

When I'm in a pine box, people will read the internet and say: "Wow. Grampa was cool. He wrote a blog! How endearing and soulful."

Actually, that was a lie.

When I open the cigar box full of old stuff I got from my Grampa, I get goosebumps. When people dust off their Macbooks 80 years from now and type www.benbouwman.blogspot.com into that crazy old thing they used to use called Firefox, will they get goosebumps at the garbage I write here? Doubt it.

I need to leave something behind that will yellow with age, that people will have to dig up and dust off, that they will be able to physically store and treasure, not look up on the internet every once in a while.

But who really cares? It's all going to burn anyway; that's what mom always says when Aunt Margaret talks on and on blah blah blah about her next addition to her collection of antique collections. Then Aunt Margaret goes red in the face, pours another glass of wine and says: "Yes that's true - But I love to have a Coll-eck-shun!"

I am an Aunt-like figure who has had far too much wine and who yells at the top of her lungs "I LOVE TO HAVE A COLLECTION!" until her nephew wishes that either he was not obliged to sit at the table with her or he was Harry Potter and could make her inflate.

Thoreau says that poor people are actually rich because they can do with less. He is right about that.

Life is Beautiful

You plant a rose
And if the rose comes up
You're thankful to God
And when it doesn't you cuss him
You raise a child
And when the child grows up
You got to learn to let go
If you can't learn to love him
But, oh, what a beautiful thing when you sing
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
'Cause if I don't believe in love
Then I don't believe in you
And I do

Now I'm not saying only bad news comes
For the people who want it
But you gotta play that music for who's listening
You got to have someone you wanna sing it to
Oh, what a beautiful thing when you sing
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Blue sky cracking and it makes me believe
Oh, hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
'Cause if I don't believe in love
Then I don't believe in you
And I do

Close my eyes, see the glorious sunset
Through the windows of a store and I want it
Anyway, if I ever felt haunted
You were there for me
These angry people who are waiting to judge you
Have their own judgment that they'll have live up to
Open your mouth
And if nothing come through
Remember
You're the one that sings
And it's a gift
And life's a beautiful thing
Oh, don't waste it doll
You build a house and if the house comes up
You gotta work on that house
If you want to make it your home
'Cause everything inside that's not something you own
Is what you're taking with you
On the day that you go
And oh, what a beautiful world when we sing
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Oh, hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
'Cause if I don't believe in love
Then I don't believe in you
And I do

Ryan Adams is a good singer and guitar player and writer. Someday, if I work up the courage, I might review his album "Cold Roses" on this site. It's maybe my favourite album ever.