Forever tinkering


Why mess with a good thing?

Because it’s there.

The would-be engineer in me likes to tinker, to adjust, to fine-tune. But I’m learning to let go. For all our sakes.

wrench.jpgSome guys tinker with cars. Or computers. Or barbecue sauce recipes. It’s a weird compulsion, to make incremental adjustments looking for big payoffs.

Maybe others will notice, but it doesn’t seem to matter. As long as we’re tinkering, we’re happy.

Imperfections drive us crazy, but perfection would drive us crazier.

I’ve futzed with my columns, but rarely is the end product worth the grief. Only I know about the agony of choosing between one word or another, trying to hit a rhythm or a mood lodged in my brain trying to get out.

Blogs are bad examples of this game of constant updates. I can keep going forever, adding features, changing the look and layout, creating better content.

No wonder some find it addictive, no better than those boozing it up or playing the ponies. Or using outdated slang for vices.

I tinker with cookie recipes and sometimes with room layouts. Or the route to work. Or tracking to-do lists.

It’s endless. Endlessly numbing.

What’s the line between close to perfection and good enough?

I don’t know, but it’s way way back in the distance.


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