August 15: Too Many People, Solitude, Lonely Fairy Tale

All in all, the Zuckermans' pigpen was the center of attention.  Fern was happy, for she felt that Charlotte's trick was working and that Wilbur's life would be saved.  But she found that the barn was not nearly as pleasant--too many people.  She liked it better when she could be all alone with her friends the animals.

I totally understand Fern's aversion to the crowds that show up to witness the "miracle" of Charlotte's web.  Fern is used to being alone in her uncle's barn.  The throngs of visitors disrupt her quiet days with Wilbur and Charlotte.  It would be like going into the woods for a quiet walk and finding yourself in the middle of the New York Marathon route instead.

I like people.  I like the students I teach.  I like the patients I register.  However, at a certain point in the day, I reach my people limit.  I don't feel like smiling and joking anymore.  I feel like grabbing a book, finding a quiet corner in a nearly deserted library, and being by myself.  Perhaps I have a limited reserve of goodwill.  Perhaps I'm a closet misanthrope.  I don't know.  But, 'round about one or two o'clock in the afternoon, I have to fight the urge to withdraw from the world.

I think that's why I relish my weekend time so much.  Friday through Sunday, I don't have to be friendly with everybody.  In fact, if I want, I don't have to be friendly with anybody.  I could be an absolute asshole.  Of course, I don't do that.  I will not go out of my way to be unpleasant.  However, I don't have to go out of my way to be pleasant, either.  I can just be me.  Period.

Once upon a time, a hermit named Herman lived on top of a mountain.  Nobody ever visited Herman, because the mountain was too difficult to climb and the air was too thin to breathe.  Herman preferred this arrangement.

In the morning, Herman rose at 8 a.m., ate a bowl full of pine cones, and then went for a walk around the mountaintop.  He made sure there was nothing near his house that would attract unwanted visitors.  He chopped down trees that were too beautiful.  Smashed up rocks that were too interesting.  Killed birds that sang too musically.  Herman the hermit made his mountaintop the most uninviting place in the world.

And nobody ever came to see Herman.

One day, Herman developed a massive bowel obstruction from eating too much tree bark and pine needles.  He suffered in bed for three days and then died alone.

Nobody mourned the passing of Herman the hermit.

Moral of the story:  make sure to eat enough fiber.

And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.

And constipated...