525,600 Minutes

I hear something different every time the words come out. Years. It's how we count the moments in our lives. An accumulation of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months...collectively, a year.

1985, 1989, 1992, 1996, 1997, 2000, 2005...2005...2005, 2007. Some are worth repeating, in memory, not in replay. The moments that mark each year. Some are fading. Some are the years that will never leave my conscious.

Somewhere in between, are the spaces. An oft repeated wish in group, boring years. Boring, for us, was...is good. Is life boring? Some days, boring is, good. It ensures change that we can consume. It ensures a child's continued innocence and naivete. Boredom means that they remain blissfully unaware of what the reality of the world is. That everyone love everyone, no exceptions. That Mommy and Daddy can save the world, that they are invincible.

Some of those years, I want a do over. I want boring. I want one more moment of blissful unknowing. No broken hearts. No tears. But, the introspective Film Maker always said, we would not have a story to listen to if it weren't for...our moments.