Negotiating 101 -- the myth of the win-win

I wrote a post earlier today that did not go the way I planned. Many of my posts are pre-written and scheduled to appear in the future. I know...it is like discovering the Great and Powerful Oz is just some pathetic little man behind the curtain...damn you Toto...

Anyway, I wrote a post earlier today that did not go the way I planned.  I usually write free-form, letting the words flow from my fingers in a steady stream.  I edit for spelling and the damn premature space bar thing after I am done. You may or may not be surprised to learn I rarely edit for content. I have written this way for 40 years. I let my brain compose and construct in the background and it just flows out in a steady, gurgling stream of raw sewage: untreated, unfiltered, sometimes unintelligible. You will have to judge the success of this method yourself.

I digress again.  I wrote a post earlier today that did not go the way I planned.  My thoughts took a different turn from my intentions. It was my plan to pen a piece that was upbeat, but the words took on a more somber and perhaps even maudlin tone as if by their own accord. It may be best to leave the post in "draft" form.  I don't know. I am not sure I was able to convey the sense I was seeking.  I confess I am not even sure what I was driving at myself.

Clio is a temperamental Muse. You would think otherwise. Music or Art are endeavors of creativity. But the ancients knew the recording of history was also an art. It is impossible to record everything, to know what happens today may be important later. What if that unrecorded random act later becomes a key milestone in the history of man? What if some rich sponsor took a shine to the immature art of a young painter named Adolph Hitler and young Adolph spent his days painting instead of talking politics in the beer hall?

What is history? That a young man crossed a shallow but swift river in Northern Italy one morning in 33 B.C. is not important. That another man crossed the same stream at the same place some fifteen minutes later changed the course of history. When Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon it had a profound effect.  Europe's geo-political boundaries, language and culture today are a result. That splash in the ocean of history sent waves through time that affect every part of the globe yet today.

On the other hand, some of us stick our finger into that same ocean and leave not even a ripple behind. It is left to each of us to remember, to pass on the stories of life, of family, of our own little history to future generations.

It is said that history is written by the victor. I say it written by those who remember.