April 28: Gruel, Change, New Cartoon

Quite satisfied, he closed his door, and locked himself in:  double-locked himself in, which was not his custom.  Thus secured against surprise, he took off his cravat; put on his dressing-gown and slippers, and his nightcap; and sat down before the fire to take his gruel.

Scrooge, above all else, is a creature of routine.  Aside from his one deviation from custom, I get the feeling that Scrooge has followed the same nightly office for a very long time.  Gruel.  There's probably nothing more uninteresting, bland, and watery.  Perfect for Scrooge's existence of non-surprise.

I have friends who embrace change and surprise the way I embraced my iPad when I got it for Christmas.  (For the record, I sat on the couch, hugging the iPad box, in a state of cosmic euphoria for almost half an hour.)  My good friend Wondertwin loves to remind me frequently, "Change is inevitable.  Change is good.  Change is the only constant in life."  To counter her litany, I usually say something like, "Yeah, well, so what?" 

Just because change happens, I don't have to embrace it or like it.  It may be argued that my attitude breeds unhappiness and stress in my life.  However, I would say that change breeds the unhappiness and stress, and I'm just reacting to it.  It's the chicken and egg question.  Which came first, the chicken or the egg, the change or the misery?  Change isn't always positive.

Another of my friends would tell me at this point in my anti-change diatribe that really it's all a matter of attitude.  I can choose to think of change as an adventure, a door opening.  Or I can choose to think of change as some form of divine punishment for the sins of my ancestors.  I bet you can guess which side of this fence I fall on.

Scrooge eats gruel.  He likes gruel.  He likes its greyness.  Its predictability.  Its sameness.

Saint Marty is a big fan of gruel, as well.

Confessions of Saint Marty