Gales of November

The gales of November are what took the Edmund Fitzgerald to her watery grave in 1975 according to the song by Gordon Lightfoot. Of course, North Carolina is far from the Great Lakes, but November still brings change for some, disaster for others.

I can't really predict what's in the air, but it feels like change. Of course, I've been wrong before...and I'll be there again.

And now, I have hit upon a topic for this post; people who can't admit when they are wrong. Everyone knows someone like this, right? Maybe even you have trouble admitting a mistake from time to time.

There are those who are incapable of accepting a flaw in themselves regardless of the shrieking sirens and flashing lights of reality. Is it unflappable confidence or ultimate insecurity that keeps a person from owning a mistake?

I suppose it varies by individual and possibly by circumstance. As for me, I won't try deny that I occasionally attempt to distance myself from an error, but I have discovered that I feel more human and a lot less stressed when I admit to myself and those around me that I made a mistake.

I also find that I am more likely to respect someone who has the courage to admit that they are flawed. The others, the ones who are never wrong seem lonely and troubled to me. It's never fun to be around a critical perfectionist, for even if they are only criticizing themselves, the atmosphere is full of negative emotion. Who needs that?


Where's the funny stuff Dave? The title of the blog is Nothing Serious. Can't you keep it light?

That's how I pretend to have readers for this blog, by printing a contrivance of their thoughts in italics. To answer my inquisitive imaginary reader, I promise to go lite next time. ('Lite' being even more buoyant than 'light').