The Pursuit of Happine$$

I think the statement money can't buy happiness is just so much bullshit. How's that for a provocative opening line?  I've been doing a lot of thinking about this lately, mostly while I'm out on my paddle board, mostly to quell the incessant counting of the paddle strokes.  Not that there isn't something kind of soothing and hypnotic about that...one two three four five six switch sides one two three four five six switch sides...but that's a little too OCD for me and when I catch myself doing it my brain yells, "STOP THAT!"

It's pretty easy to think about happiness out there on the SUP -- the sun, the water, the trees, the mountains.  Nature at it's finest.  Yeah, money can't buy that.  But wait.  How did I get to the lake?  In my car of course, the same car I have to pay to insure and put gas in.  And what am I doing on the lake? Well it's my latest and greatest passion.  Stand up paddle boarding. Yeah, I tried it when I went over to Hornby Island and rented a board.  That outing cost a few bucks -- the ferry over, the board rental, gas to get there and back, dinner out.  It was an awesome day.  The kind that makes me happy.  The kind I couldn't indulge in if I didn't have some money.  

And then when I found out there was such a thing as inflatable paddle boards I could actually fit in my little car?  Well, it was a no-brainer.  I zoomed off to my closest Mountain Equipment Co-op.  The closest one being three hours away.  And I bought a couple of those boards.  Paddles too.  The second board was for the kid, early birthday present.  It's great.  Something we can do together.  Or I can do alone.  We can even invite a friend out.  

I'm a pretty happy person generally speaking.  But if I had to worry about putting a roof over my head, clothes on my back, or food in my belly, I wonder how happy I'd be.  Now I know there are some people who are unhappy no matter how much they have.  The ones that go out of their way to look for the negative in everything.  They could have a million bucks in the bank and still not be happy.  And sure, conversely there are those without the proverbial pot to piss in who are happy no matter what.  Was I happy before the addition of the boards?  Yeah, I was.  Am I happier now that I have them?  You better believe it.  I guess my point is, unless you are totally happy rooted in one spot, you pretty much have to have money to get out there to do anything.  So maybe money really can't buy happiness but it sure can enhance it.  

There is one thing I'll agree with though -- Money can't buy you love.  

'Cause if you're paying for it, it ain't love.

Book Reviews:  Wayward by Blake Crouch is the second in the trilogy.  Still waiting for number three before I impart my thoughts.

Second Life is the second novel by SJ Watson.  I picked up her first (Before I Go To Sleep) in Spain to alleviate my reading withdrawal and it was just okay.  Billed as a thriller, the first half of Second Life read like mild erotica and it took way too long to set the scene.  The only saving grace was the ending, which leaves the reader to make up her own mind (no tidy bow on it.) Don't think I'd read another by this author.

The Concrete Blonde and Trunk Music are two of Michael Connelly's earlier novels featuring Harry Bosch that I hadn't yet read.  Neither disappointed. To my mind there is no one writing in the police procedural mystery category to even come close to Connelly.  He is the Stephen King of that genre for me.

Critics say The Girl On The Train by Paula Hawkins will appeal to fans of Gone Girl.  The problem is just about every novel of that ilk is now compared to Gone Girl.  I enjoyed this book, especially Hawkins' portrayal of the alcoholic protagonist.  She nailed that.  Kind of made me never want to drink again though.  But I'm sure I'll get over it.

Remember my book mark listing the 50 Best Horror Novels?  And I said I was going to start reading the ones I hadn't read?  I started with Iain Banks' The Wasp Factory.  Written in 1984 it was reviewed as a "Gothic horror story of quite exceptional quality."  There were parts I found horrific but it was never horrifying and frankly I would have to call it pure crap.  Don't know why I even finished it except that I rarely don't finish a book I start.  Keep telling myself it's bound to get better.  It didn't.