GOOD NEWS BAD NEWS

Things I learned from watching my plumber digging up my yard while looking for a water leak:
Stand at least 20 feet from your plumber while he’s digging in a wet ditch.
They earn every penny they get for the work they must do.

For those who read my holiday depression post before I deleted it for being too depressing, my worries about a huge plumbing bill creating havoc with my finances were unfounded. The bill is much less than I thought it would be.
Just goes to show ya, it's a waste of time to worry. Wait till you know.

I OUGHTA KNOW BY NOW
The local news reports two men paralyzed and one man dead. Hanging Christmas lights. Tragedies, all three.
The information highway lets me know every time someone bumps their nose or breaks their spine or dies even while in the holiday mood.
I’ve declared to no one in particular, mainly for my own sake, that the day I stop learning I’ll be dead.
But lately I’ve been asking how much do I really want to know?
Is this how one grows old in spirit, by fearing knowing more? Not just fearing danger, but fearing depression, fearing frustration, fearing heartbreak, fearing changes?
Does information always equate change? Is information we receive that is compatible with our present or intended actions always more welcome than information that isn’t? No matter how factual or truthful the non-compatible info is?
I like to think I’m open to real information, and not unwelcoming of it, but there seems to be a lot of people who aren’t. How easy is it to get that way?
The only thing that never changes is that nothing stays the same. By fearing change, one fears time itself.
The more information I get, the more I know, the more I realize how little I know. I also realize how much I know by knowing how little I know.
So how much do I really want to know? That question and what the meaning of life is seem like foundational questions I oughta know by now.