by Curt Stone

Created on: September 18, 2008   Last Updated: November 11, 2008

'Time waits for no man' or so the saying goes when the nails are driven into the coffin. Why then, when we're fit and able do we let time sprint away from us so effortlessly? It seems inherent in all of us to accept waiting for things. Entrenched into the culture of this overcrowded modern world is a silent patience; an acceptance of our lot - this trait we exhibit day after day after day. Whether it be at the cold meat counter, ticket in hand, governed by a display counting up to our turn or mired in the molasses of slow moving traffic before work; we all just uncomplainingly tolerate such hindrances.

Let me digress and draw an analogy...I saw recently an advertisement on TV promoting a bagless vacuum cleaner - its selling point being that there's no mess when emptying it. There's a mechanism within that compacts the collected dust, hair and other small scale detritus into a conveniently disposable 'cubelike clump'. Essentially, it takes the 'waste out of waste', 'all that matters is the matter'. Enough of the word play I'm giving away free slogans here, I'll get to the point.

Fluff.

The meat counter queue and motorway drudge are largely beyond the control of us mere mortals. Bring ourselves within the confines or our own home however and borrow a few moments to analyse, we'll see there's a multitude of ways to pack down our fluffed out existence.
This morning I rose from my bed, into my slippers and dressing gown, down the stairs (two at a time) bread in the toaster, the cat stroked and fed, all in the time it took the kettle to boil my one cup of water. A deft dalliance into my study soon after, coffee and toast in one hand, flicking on the pc with the other. Then proceedings were hit in a real 'needle being pulled from the record' manner. I'd not analysed enough. Four minutes it took for my machine to wake from its slumber! My toast eaten, my coffee drank, my fingers rapping on my desk. At last it was awake and ready. I eagerly double-clicked the browser icon. Time passed - dialling - more time passed - connecting - connected. Next up, the page load, the slow filtering of the day's news I hoped would arrive before the day ended. Keeping with the theme, the fluff was back and it was stuck to the molasses painted wheels of my rickety internet wagon. Yes there's an information superhighway out there that's been scooped out to take huge volumes of traffic and yes, it's affordable. Yet here was I trundling along, a victim of my own apathy and a fondness for a quaint old modem, my precious time - stolen.
Using a few more of the mentioned moments to analyse and let's face it I had some going spare, I concluded with a dreary resignation that, after some diligence, I'd order broadband. Not just any broadband either, after the diligence bore its fruit: An XL cable package with added content and built in malware barriers. I'd organise my favourites, de-clutter my subscriptions, add some creamy podcasts take to watching 'catch-up' TV on my PC; all whilst sat in my leather executive chair - padded for comfort I might add with 'cubelike clumps'.

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