This confession may come as a mild surprise: I am, by nature, a bit of a malcontent.  A whiner, if it must be stated out loud.  I believe this is somewhat surprising to anyone who knows me because I clearly have it ‘made in the shade’.  I am, without a doubt, the luckiest, happiest person I know living the best life in the world with the greatest partner to have ever walked the planet.  Our kids are perfect.  Even our stupid dogs are really pretty good (but they are still dogs!). 

So what’s to complain about?

Not so much, really, but discontent with life is not so much a fact-based condition as it is a personality quirk and I have it.  I am well acquainted with Churchill’s black dogs (I see the glass half empty) and I also particularly like change as a partial response to those black dogs.  I, therefor, don’t like the status quo by almost any definition.  And I don’t usually even like what is going on at any given time.  Ergo – I am a habitual malcontent.

Scotch helps. 

The key word in that self-admission, however, is ‘bit’.  I am a bit of a malcontent.  There is an element in my character that predetermines a minor but constant irritation or frustration with everything but, of course, that can be and has been largely controlled.  A great deal, if you must know.  And, for a long time.  All testosterone-infused men have had to do this to some extent if, for no other reason, than to get laid or have dinner (depending on age, whereabouts and with whom).  We are boiling cauldrons of rage.  Kinda.  In my case, more like a cuppa soup but, still, a rather hot cuppa soup.  At times, anyway.

I am, like most men, a testimony to willed-harmony-with-others-to-get-what-I-want.  I go along to get along.  One must try to get along, mustn’t one?

A couple of thousand years ago, I would simply have chopped off their heads instead.  That option still comes up now and then, if you must know, but it runs into the willed-harmony thing most of the time.  It would be so much easier to chop heads rather than learning to live happily within polite society but, in the long run, that is a recipe for ostracism and loneliness if not becoming prematurely bald myself.  I chose the easier dinner route. 

But, of course, there are some things that just ‘set me off’ despite my gargantuan will to contain-the-hot-soup.  There are some circumstances that I just can’t tolerate.  There is a state of being I have no choice but to reject decisively if not violently.  It seems that the one thing I just can’t handle is ‘polite society’ as it is taught, written, expected and promoted.  It just bugs me.  Ya know?

Just to illustrate by way of a small example: I hate town planners.  I hate the idea of town planning.  I can barely tolerate Official community plans, even.   Weird eh?  Don’t get me started on playground design, playground rules or even queueing at bus stops.  It took me years to accept the idea of stop signs and I am totally rejecting the idea of renewing driver’s licenses and passports every five years!  And that is just the beginning.  I could go on.     

Routine, order, rules-for-no-reason, authorities, even ‘professional organizations’, unions and overall societal expectations get under my skin but when any of that actually interferes with me, what I want, I get increasingly irritated.  When I have endured that irritation for any length of time, I get annoyed and frustrated to the point of acting out – a little, anyway.  Like writing a blog or a rant to the editor of the local newspaper.  And when I can’t seem to inject into life variety, creativity, spontaneity or even argument and debate-without-suppression, it is time for me to move on.

“Dave, where is this going?  I am starting to get irritated myself!”

Well, it is part of the answer to the question: “Why did you move off the grid?”

“I didn’t ask that question!” 

Somebody out there must have.

Anyway, it is not the entire answer by any means.  I will elaborate more on that later on (if anyone does, actually, ask the question) but it is part of the answer.  That minor discontent, that pea-under-the-mattress, that-burr-under-the-civil-saddle is just part of me and it has resulted in lots of different jobs, different careers, different lifestyles, different politics, different friends and now, for a completely different change of pace, a remote, off-the-grid-lifestyle that is unlike anything before.

Ooooohhhh………and that is just part of the answer!