This morning I was sitting at the breakfast table, thinking about the new cereal I was having. It was Kellogg’s Raisin Bran Crunch, and it tasted okay. As usual, I brought my bowl of cereal to the sink when I washed the dishes left over from last night. As usual, it was several minutes before I realized my cereal bowl was right there next to me. So I grabbed a spoonful. “Hmm,” I thought, “something’s different.” Several dishes later, I grabbed another spoonful. “Hmm,” I thought once more. A lightning bolt struck my brain, and I immediately knew what it was. The cereal was still crunchy! How the heck did that happen? Duh! The cereal box read “Crunch,” didn’t it?
Then and there I thought that it was a pretty good idea to try new things. I was proud of myself.
Last night I also tried something new. I decided to watch the pilot episodes of two different TV shows. At least I will know what I'm missing, and I can decide after seeing the pilots whether I would like to watch the shows. I didn’t like the pilots, but I am determined to watch more pilot shows.
Come to think about it again, I tried something new with my popups yesterday. I attached popups to popups — a butterfly to a house, a hummingbird to a tree. There are so many popup permutations.
We all try new things from time to time. I wonder if one new idea leads to another, which leads to another idea. Hey, if we can keep going like that, who knows how many new ideas we will be happy with? A succession of good ideas can lead not only to pride of accomplishment, but to increased happiness.
There may be failures — a break in the chain of new discoveries. A new breakfast cereal may stay soggy. Seventeen pilot episodes in a row may be crappy. Experimenting with popup attachments may lead to frustration.
Isn’t it worth a try? Try it. You may like it. Just think: If you don’t like it, the good news is that it will be one less experiment to try.
Mr. Ebsen may be contacted at robertebsen@hotmail.com
