Roger is never — okay, let’s say “hardly ever” — bored:
Trapped in someone else’s time frame WILL bore me silly. In a long meeting that is top down? A yawn; Presbyterians have LOTS of meetings, which I avoid as much as possible. Stuck three hours in Wal-Mart (and it HAS happened)? REALLY boring — it’s shopping, which I dislike, and it’s Wal-Mart, which I’m not fond of. The only way that situation would have been salvageable is if I had had something to read and a place to sit down and read it. IF there’s something to read, AND I have the opportunity to do so, I am NEVER bored.
Reading is good, when you have the opportunity. (In the line at the Walmart Supercenter, where you’re twelfth in line because six checkout lanes are inexplicably closed, you end up reading the nutrition information on your food packages, but it’s better than nothing. Sometimes, so is the food.) I have been known to (sort of) sing, wordlessly if I remember to keep my mouth shut, out loud if the coast seems clear. It’s amazing how many songs I know up until that one line I never could figure out.
During this city’s darker days — “What? NBA Finals? Here? Are you kidding me?” — the Oklahoma Gazette had a little filler piece between the ads which said, “If you’re bored in this town, it’s not our fault.” They meant it, too.