Robert Fulghum Journal Entries

My recent travels, musings, insights shared with you every Sunday.

Squirmy

. . .The whole Universe is still expanding, so say the astronomers. The landmass under my feet is moving west at the rate of half an inch a year. The sea floor is still spreading. Nothing is holding still – every atom in existence is whirling away in relentless motion.

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Onion

. . .Fleeting beauty is always poetic, but flowers are dead on arrival – a fading, fugitive, momentary gesture.
An onion, on the other hand, is not only beautiful; it is useful and contains lasting possibility – magic and mystery and miracle. . .

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The Quiz

. . . a little boy – 5 maybe. . . has drawn a picture of mountains on either side of a valley that has a river running through it. Now he has added a rainbow, also drawn in pencil, and he is ready to fill in between the lines with colors. He pauses. Looks up at you and asks: “Which color goes on the top?”

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The Hakuho Sho Factor

. . .our interest in sports and games is seldom rational or conscious. It’s idiosyncratic – specific to the individual person. To each his own, with acceptance, not disapproval. That’s why I can tell you about Sumo and Hakuho Sho.

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JOSEF

I, like most people, am in a reflective mood about the mystery of Christmas just past and the mystery of the year to come. . .But for some reason I’ve been thinking about a man in the Bible . . .

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Meanwhile — Sideways

The Winter Solstice puts me in a state combining mild euphoria and self-reflection. It’s always a time of taking inventory – to consider the year-end profit-and-loss state of my personal enterprises: Fulghum Heavy Industries.

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PARA

The Christmas process for me usually moves in a parabolic curve. . .A journey from the ridiculous to the sublime and back is what I hope for. And this year?

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BUCKET – Part Two

Last week I wrote about the utilitarian aspect of a five-gallon bucket. In the past week I’ve been extending “bucket thoughts” in my mind. . . So here’s my process, and at the end, I found a magnificent beginning.

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Bucket

The insane spirit of optimism about one’s carrying capacity overcomes experience and common sense. And you think you can collect all of the stuff out of the car and wrangle it into the house in one trip – all by yourself.

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Up in a Waco

One of the few items marked off my bucket list is #21 “Flying my own plane.”
It’s too late now. I’m too old and forgetful – and forgetful is not good for flying.
Somehow, my life circumstances were never just right to learn.
That doesn’t mean I’ve not flown whenever I had the chance.

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Socks

My Sunday morning focus shifts from The Unimaginable to The Unbelievable to the Unmentionable.
But it’s less vexing to write about my socks, so . . .

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The Secret

“I’ve got a secret.”
Little kids say that. Secrets are delicious items of barter among the young. And they have great commercial value when we grow up. Books, magazine stories, internet ads, and spam are secret-laden:

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Message in a Bottle

Have you ever put a message in a bottle and thrown it into the sea? I have. Several times. In the Gulf of Mexico when I was a teenager. In the Pacific Ocean off California once in my thirties.
In the Sea of Japan – but I forget exactly when.
In the Colorado River twice in my forties.
And in the Mediterranean Sea when I was 50 years old.
Why? Because I am a romantic at heart and believe in serendipity.

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