I don't believe many pride themselves on being inexorable. It's doubtful that there's a single human being in the world who wakes up daily thinking, "Gosh, how completely proud I am of my inability to be flexible. How I would so enjoy a slice of wheat toast with huckleberry jam." I would even find it hard to believe that during a busy afternoon one may think, "Ah, I have stuck to my guns once again. How glorious is the invention that is me. Oh, is that a penny?"
My point - the act of bullishness is not a trait one actively cherishes.
Sure, we may find pleasure in getting our way by remaining unyielding in our position. We may enjoy the fruits of such steadfastness from time to time. But everyday? No. To remain inflexible from dusk to dawn from birth to death is to fight against the universe. And that's one battle you're destined to lose.
Chicken crossing the road...at a chicken crossing. Ironic and educational.
Perhaps it's my millennial spirit getting in the way, but the thought of working against the flow, the universe as a whole, is unsavory. I want to adapt, to toggle between one opinion and the next before making a decision befitting of the situation. Like the chicken who crossed the road, I just want to get to the other side - if someone has a better way to do that, why chafe against it? Why not contribute to that method and help with improvement?
When I wake up tomorrow morning, I plan to embrace flexibility, to banish the unyielding and judge each situation with an open mind. And I hope that plan is fairly inexorable.
I can show nothing but encomium for the food vendors at the fair. Through rain, wind, heat, and snow (hey, it is Vermont), they stand in their aluminum and neon booths, smelling slightly of fried food and onion, ready and waiting to serve.
Hamburgers, fries, ice cream, pie, corn dogs, kettle corn, giant eclairs - they offer their specialties with a smile, but what they really serve-up are memories. To this day, my recollections of the fair are slathered with smells, tastes, and "Mmms." The ice cream from the UVM Dairy Barn. The chili cheese pie at Dizzy Donuts (Note: I was disheartened to find that this delectable bowl of chili lined with a tortilla chip crust is no longer available. Please bow your head in a moment of silence.) The fresh apple pie from Allenholm Farm. The maple bread from the Maple Shed. And, of course, the warm, crunchy fried bread dough...
Please note the "Maple Iceing" (sic) that I found and enjoyed last night.
All of these food vendors create happy, food-saturated memories that tie into the greater joys of my annual childhood trip the the fair. Of course, memories are often more joyful than the reality of today - say, for instance, the general increase of commercialism eating away at the agricultural merit of the fair - but the entire institution still holds a warm place in my heart.