Twitter usually explodes during these events; today, the only two items of note I saw were the unexpected appearance of Jay Thompson (less than a week after a heart attack and a couple of stint insertions) and the statistically accurate and largely irrelevant note that 60 percent of all people using Zillow aren’t working with a real estate agent.
I tried to get through without any snark but it’s just not possible; not when I’m watching the above stat get retweeted as gospel without anyone stopping to ask how many of those 60 percent simply are homeowners poking around to see what their house isn’t really worth.
Never mind. That’s a post for another day.
What I really want to do is focus on the beauty of life. No, really.
It rained here this morning and, when you live in an area that sees less than 8 inches of rain annually, you stop and take note. Sitting at a traffic light, the shade to the sunroof open, I sat and watched rain drops fall from untold heights to land on the glass in a scene reminiscent of the beginning of “April Showers” from Bambi. Take a moment, stare at the clouds and the blue sky interspersed as the drizzle comes and it’s dizzying to consider how far those individual drops have traveled.
Or maybe I can tell you of the moment at Chase Field two nights ago when I looked to the left from the press box through the stadium’s open roof and saw the moon and Jupiter hovering over the artificial steel horizon. Those around me thought me somewhat nuts for taking the time to view this rather than the pedestrian game below; I’d argue there will be another 70 nights of baseball this year alone in downtown Phoenix but far fewer opportunities to stop and admire something greater than us all.
Sometimes, the answer to the frustrations of life around us really are that simple. Even if the Zestimate for Tranquility Base is off by about 37 percent.