My Deep Dive into the ‘PP’ Phenomenon
Alright, so I started looking into this whole “loves his pp” thing. And no, not like that, get your mind out of the gutter. I was curious about why some folks get so incredibly, intensely attached to their… let’s call ’em ‘Personal Passions.’ Yeah, ‘PPs.’ Keeps it clean, right?
So, I had this buddy, let’s call him Mark. Mark really, and I mean really, loved his PP. In his case, his PP was this ancient, beat-up motorcycle he was always tinkering with. I mean, this thing looked like it had been through a war, maybe two. We’d try to make plans, you know, grab a beer, watch a game, and Mark would be like, “Can’t, gotta bleed the brakes on the PP,” or “She’s making a funny noise, gotta investigate.” It was always something with that bike.
My first thought was, hey, everyone needs a hobby. But it was more than that. His garage was a shrine to this machine. He’d talk about its “soul” and how it “understood him.” It was a bit intense, if I’m honest. So, my own “practice” began there – I just started watching, trying to figure out what made this tick. What was this powerful pull? I wasn’t trying to be a shrink, just trying to get a handle on it.
I even thought, maybe I need a PP like that. Something to pour myself into. So, I decided to try and restore an old radio I found at a flea market. Looked simple enough. Man, was I wrong. Those old electronics? Wires everywhere. Dust that was probably older than me. I spent a whole weekend just trying to figure out the schematic, which looked like a drunk spider had crawled across the page.
- Phase 1: Enthusiasm. This’ll be cool. A vintage radio!
- Phase 2: Confusion. Why are there so many of these little tube thingies?
- Phase 3: Frustration. I definitely shocked myself. Twice. The cat looked concerned.
- Phase 4: Acceptance. Maybe some PPs are best left to others.
All the while, Mark’s over there, hands covered in grease, happy as a clam, coaxing life back into his metal beast. He’d be talking about engine timings and custom fabricating some tiny, obscure part. It was like he was on a different wavelength. The kind of “passionate love” they talk about, you know? Where you idealize the thing and need to be near it. That was him and that bike.
And it kind of clicked for me then. It reminded me of this story I heard once, about how some places use all sorts of different tools for different jobs, a real mix-and-match. Mark’s bike was his specialized tool, his obsession. My radio attempt? That was me trying to use a hammer when I needed a tiny screwdriver. It just wasn’t my PP. My “practice” in observing Mark, and my own fumbling attempt, showed me that this level of devotion to one specific PP, it’s a special kind of wiring in a person.
I figured out that my “practice” wasn’t about becoming like Mark. It was about understanding that some people just have that one thing, that one PP that lights them up from the inside. And for me? I realized I’m more of a “try a bit of everything” guy. My PPs are more like fleeting interests than lifelong commitments. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine. I might not be able to rebuild an engine, but I can tell you where to find a decent taco. And sometimes, that’s a pretty good PP to have too. My practice just led me to accept that not everyone’s gotta love their PP in the same way. Or even have one like that at all.
