Now that last post took us afield.
I was going to say far afield, but that is tired. Alliterative, surely, but tired. Must we all go pretty far afield, or somewhat far afield, whenever we venture? No day trips? Nothing like a quick spin?
I was not raised on a farm, so my sense is limited. But for most purposes isn't being afield, pretty much all you gotta be? I suppose you can be more (hence farther) afield at some times than at others, in fact, logically you’d have to be. But I think we overstate just how far we wander and how far we have to wander for it to make much of a difference.
Which brings me to still another annoying distraction. Does one go farther or further afield? Farther in the actual field, but further in the metaphor? And if so, when do we abandon the one and embrace the other?
I imagine that if you wander too far afield you end up out on a wide range. I also imagine that there really are wide ranges. I think I have flown over them. But I just don't think they are all so damn wide - nor should they be. If the range, unenhanced, is so wide that the deer and the antelope lay there, then it's plenty wide for me. Throw in the near absence of discouraging words and the perpetually blue skies, and I'd say Don't you widen it a god-damned inch!
I know that folks from the Rite Aid, that offers a "wide range of beauty products" and every consultant who offers "a wide range of communications strategies" will be disappointed (not sorely, just -- well you are getting the point here) but let's just hold off for now.
We will wander afield but keep to the regular range for now. And don't disturb the deer or the antelope.
Be back soon.