What am I curious about? Because of the greatest invention of all-time, the internet, curiosity, for me, is fleeting. It is the day of instant gratification. Look it up. Immediately. I can’t get enough. And look out if I think you’d be interested in what I find, because you’re getting the link. I am addicted to hitting my share button. Maybe I love this easy access to information because I grew up in a small town with a limited scope of resources?
Which starting NFL quarterback has the most passing yards so far this season? Ask the neighbor who is sitting next to Dad at the bar. Who is losing their job or cheating on their spouse? Ask the ladies in the salon at the bottom of the hill called Walnut Street. What am I going to be when I grow up? I thought I wanted to be the President of the United States of America until a family trip to Cleveland. How do I get to heaven? Pray to that scary corpus hanging over the man in drag humming in Latin. Why does that amazing sound coming from the stereo give me fortitude to keep asking?
Curious? Well, I saw what happened to Buttons, but I'm no cat.