Interminable

I feel the way about ideas the way some diners feel about mealtime. Once they sit down in front of a tablecloth, they aren’t going anywhere for two, maybe three hours. Whether the chicken is undercooked, the seltzer is flat, or the flambé singes an eyebrow, they are there until the check drops. That’s called good manners and a commitment to sticking things out. Rigid as this might sound, this is a simple philosophy, which translates very well into one’s every day life.  

I believe wholeheartedly that every idea should be brought to term. That includes bad ideas. How can we really know that something is a bad idea if it remains in hypothetical limbo forever? The short answer, of course, is that we can’t. That’s why I choose to see it through. 

Someone might say that steel wool undergarments are an idiotic idea. That’s possibly true, but without trading in your silky boxers for something a bit sturdier, how can you know that for sure? Is it stupid to feed a wolverine pancakes and maple syrup by hand? Potentially. But without a perfect view down the gullet of said predator, no one really knows. Many would argue that leaving a newborn alone with fireworks is just asking for trouble. I guess, but dangerous celebrations aren’t necessarily age-specific. 

A mistake isn’t truly a mistake unless it’s given free rein to prosper and grow. And don’t let anyone try and convince you otherwise. It’s not like you have a choice.