It is perhaps a corollary of the Type A personality that he or she is never fully satisfied with what is.
The Type A and Type B personality concept describes two contrasting personality types. In this hypothesis, personalities that are more competitive, highly organized, ambitious, impatient, highly aware of time management, or aggressive are labeled Type A, while more relaxed, “receptive”, less “neurotic” and “frantic” personalities are labeled Type B.
When we’re young we haven’t longstanding designs; rather they are general in nature, guided by topical perspective rather than futuristic value. Old age rapidly dilutes that ambivalence and reduces ambition to what is colloquially called a bucket list; that is, a collection of endeavours or possessions which rightly or wrongly we have translated to be either nutritious or imperative before signing off forever. The slogan bucket list was popularized by the 2007 film of the same name directed and produced by the incomparable Rob Reiner.
Mid-morning found me seated upon a suspended swinging armchair at Tower Beach staring directly into the sun hanging high in the sky above the glistening ocean. The soft but determined wind blew onto me from across the choppy white and blue. The ocean sparkled in a wedge to the shore from a point on the horizon. The giant sea pines and Palmetto ferns sighed. The air was rich with moisture from the wispy clouds. On the boardwalk I overheard the patter of feet of other worshippers of the sea, or the click of a bicycle being walked, as they followed the piper’s charm to the beach amidst the billows of sea air and radiant sunshine.
As we see some grounds that have long lain idle and untilled, when grown rich and fertile by rest, to abound with and spend their virtue in the product of innumerable sorts of weeds and wild herbs that are unprofitable, and that to make them perform their true office, we are to cultivate and prepare them for such seeds as are proper for our service; even so it is with minds, which if not applied to some certain study that may fix and restrain them, run into a thousand extravagances, eternally roving here and there in the vague expanse of the imagination —
Excerpt From
Michel de Montaigne
“The Essays of Montaigne — Complete.”
Sitting on the deck in the exceptionally well made cane chairs (ample enough to accommodate quite comfortably my less than sylphlike figure), staring blankly into the warm sunlight through wispy clouds, I noticed that Braddock Cove was at low tide. From the oyster-clad sand mounds emanated what to the uninitiated might be a moderately unpleasant odor of marsh gas; but which to me at least more resembles a divine mixture of vegetation and salt sea air. Its purity of scent proclaims its rightfulness and ancient allegiance with the sea.
Living in a subtropical climate such as that of Hilton Head Island it is de rigueur to address pest control on a routine basis. Today, the fourth Thursday of the month (indoors one month, outdoors the other), we were visited by Island Pest Control (which is now formally known as Massey Services with Corporate Headquarters in Orlando, Florida). Aside from completing this necessary maintenance of common household pests (termites, mosquitoes, rodents), we had the unanticipated pleasure today to meet Mark Christopher, the pest control agent who attended the property and handled the professional service commendably.
Awakening on Hilton Head Island is not unlike any other day. There are duties (real or imagined) to fulfill; there are projects (warranted or fanciful) to perform; there are penetrating routines to filter into the day; there is hope for a stream of profit and advantage. Certainly the prospect of favourable weather, a clear blue sky, tolerable temperatures and an appetite have something to do with it as well. But in general getting out of bed, withdrawing from the cocoon of the lair, is an assignment which confronts and enforces the identical and inescapable features of one’s mind no matter where you may be.
Not everyone wishes to rule the roost. There are those who, given the appropriate duty and compensation, are content to do the bidding of others. To them it is no discredit by any account; and certainly not to any theoretical psychological need for management or superiority. But for those who wish to have it their own way the prescription is inescapable at any price. For those latter sorts, the issue has nothing whatever to do with dominion. It is the performance which demands meticulous attention and execution. This is not to suggest others haven’t a pursuit of excellence; rather, it describes the disposition of those who require that what is being done meets their personal standards without compromise for the mere sake of accommodation or any other irrelevant requisite. It is not that one is the boss of what is being done; it is that what is being done is the boss. And how that is done is “my way”.
As I surmised after having called yesterday afternoon on a Sunday, I received a telephone message from Victoria early this Monday morning confirming a haircut appointment for me at 9:30 am. In further anticipation of this eventuality I ensured to have been out of bed, showered and dressed by nine o’clock.
For ones such as we (that is, old fogeys) the main ingredients of Hilton Head Island are: the Sea Pines plantation, cycling and the North Atlantic Ocean. From these elemental features follows and flows everything else, including as we reconfirmed early this morning before tending to grocery shopping at Publix the delectable glazed doughnuts from Lowcountry Produce Market & Café in The Shops at Sea Pines Center. There we were greeted by the same server whom we had met last year; and, as I wandered about the store looking at the artwork on display I encountered and gabbed with the proprietor’s sister whom we had met more than 10 years ago.