The Old Man and the Rocking Chair

People tell me all the time I won't be happy if I retire. "What will you do with yourself?" they say as if they know me. "Sit in a rocking chair, stare out the window and drool" is my usual glib retort.
The sitting in a rocking chair and watching the world go by part is true. I do have a plan, though.
I am thinking that in retirement I will do some of what men did for hundreds of years prior to retirement (of course in those days retirement was a synonym for death). Chop wood, fish, maybe hunt, walk around, mend the fence around my property, build something, grow something, argue with my neighbor, eat, copulate (hopefully), jump in the brook, go into town for supplies, read The Bible (kidding), saddle up my bicycle (in lieu of the horse), write in my journal, and sleep.

Sounds like a pretty full day to me. Call me in twenty-five years and I will let you know how it is going.

Hornet's Nest Redux

I now have two sisters in-law mad at me. One poked my hornets nest (see blog of March 16) and the other one usually ignores my buzzing but now seems to be highly allergic to my sting (op cit).
I am not making light of this as I am truly distressed at my situation. Well not so much my situation as my spouse's. You see, I hate to disappoint her.

I was asked by a good friend the other day "what does one spouse owe the other?" I am quite sure there are many three hundred page books on this topic in the Barnes and Noble self help section right now but I can mention a few things here. I thought I should skip the obvious things like fidelity and unconditional love so when we originally discussed this question I said that when we die, there should be no surprises (we had just come back from a memorial gathering for my uncle). For example, a heretofore unknown love child showing up at the funeral demanding a cut of the inheritance. Or a man named Vinnie asking for his ten G's. Or the fact that unbeknownst to you, your deceased spouse had let the life insurance policy lapse. All very bad outcomes for the grieving widow. Yes, for some reason it is always the man with a skeleton in the closet.

Or in my case, a liver in the pantry. I don't know what that means but it sounds funny.

Back to the story. The most important thing a spouse owes their partner is protection. To know your wife has your back and you have hers. Even when there is strife in the family, it means you will at least have a lawyer to argue your case in the court room even though you may get censured in private chambers. There is no thinner tight rope than the one we walk when mediating between family members. And knowing I at least have my spouse as counsel gives me some hope that I won't get The Chair at Thanksgiving.

Draw four if you have to and don't complain

I would like to make an observation about contentment. I have done no research and this is my opinion only. If you were to ask most Americans what they feel are the most important things in their life, that which gives them a sense of worth, they would most assuredly say children, God, and their spouse, if they have one. I am pretty certain I have correctly placed them in order of importance. Helping others would also have to be in the top four (hopefully). Think about it. Every time the most successful, driven person is asked about what he or she values most in life the answer is invariably "my children." Never mind the fact that they only spend time with them for two hours every other Sunday. They work hard at success because that is what gives them self worth. While there are many reasons for having children the fact is (if you believe in evolution), it is a fundamental, though bestial law of biology that passing on our DNA is our raison d' etre . My point is, no amount of external forces will bring you happiness if you are not inherently content, so I don't understand why someone like, say, a Donald Trump type, would profess that raising his children is the most important thing in his life (I have read this) because clearly it is not.

If I sound bitter, I am, of course. But that in no way detracts from the validity of my thesis. As is the case for all of my blog entries, my neuroses can never be used to invalidate my theories. And also as with most of my blog entries I have forgotten what my original point was anyway.....Oh yes, the nature of contentment.

I have neither children, nor God in my life. I do have a very loving spouse and contrary to what many people may think they know about me, I have basically devoted my entire life to working with people in need. I feel very deeply that people in the health care field are fulfilling their obligation to help others every day of their lives. That and for two years I volunteered to read for the blind. Technical manuals. Really. So I can, with a straight face, aver that I have two out of four benchmarks for contentment.

Am I content? Maybe not. But neither are a lot of people I know who do have four out of the four above mentioned benchmarks. Here is what I do not understand; People say having kids is the greatest joy in their life. Yet every day people tell me how lucky I am I don't have children. If I did have kids I would say the same thing to my childless friends, I am sure. Do they not see the irony in this? It is true that my DNA will not be passed on and I cannot lean on God for support in this crazy world. I can tell you that while I might be a curmudgeon, that I love to complain, that I respond poorly in certain interpersonal relationships, I love life and I have always lived it to the maximum my body would allow. I am constantly engaging in activities outside my comfort zone. That gives me joy. I enjoy trying to understand people, and I love dissecting behavior even if it is my own that should be forever fixed in a jar of formaldehyde on the pathology side of the cabinet.

So let's be true to ourselves and stop thinking about how green the grass is over there. Don't say to me "what do you have to complain about". I have some issues, though they may be different than yours. I, however, have always made it a point to play the hand I was dealt. I don't know what you are holding, and you don't know what I am holding. It is not my intention to offend any one and I know only six people are playing this hand with me (my known blog readers) so no, I am not talking about you. Maybe.

Mr. Nice Guy Redux

Quote I should live by: "Try being nice instead of right". It won't be easy but I will try.

Don't poke the hornet's nest if you do not want to get stung

Most of the time I am just like a persistent bumble bee. Always there in the background checking out the local goings on while maintaining an annoying, but low buzz. I flit from person to person offering an opinion on this or that but most people are smart enough to ignore me. My buzz is annoying, but harmless.

Every so often though, someone, whether intentionally or not, starts poking at the nest with a stick.
At that point my seemingly chaotic flight begins to be focused on the person batting at me. My laser sharp compound eyes focus in on the intruder and I begin to buzz around their cranium. Now I am buzzing right in their ear and they begin to flail at me with an increasing sense of helplessness and building urgency. I won't give up until they either run away, I sting them, or I manage to make honey out of the situation.

So if you do not want to get stung do not poke at my nest with a stick.

Half Century and Half Baked

I turned fifty this past Sunday. I was lucky enough to spend my birthday dinner surrounded by beautiful women spanning four decades..... and one man. I have never enjoyed hanging out with the guys at a social gathering. It has always been my preference to be with the "girls" talking about anything other than sports (and their kids of course). I really do not give a rat's ass in hell about football, baseball, and golf. That is all men seem to talk about. Especially golf. They think everyone in the world gives a crap about their swing. It has always seemed childish to me when the men are all in the living room, and the women are in the kitchen. It's a party. Let's all hang out together.

Don't get me wrong. Men (including me), need a lot of alone time without the women. I am strictly talking about dinner parties, and social gatherings with couples who are not best friends. Maybe it's that I work with women all day long so that is what I have become used to.

Anyway, we were out Friday night at Brio's with the same group of women (except the sixty year old) and Tammy mentioned to the waiter that it was my fiftieth birthday and I was with three women each from a different decade; 30, 40 and 50 years old. He responded "I hope I can pull that off when I am fifty." Needless to say that made my night. Socializing with women has its perks. They can be as raunchy as men. They are very nurturing. Other men are most certainly envious. And a guy can talk about his feelings with out appearing weak. So thank you to my best friends and to my new neighbors for celebrating with me and for being cool to hang out with. And thank you to the best friend any one could ever hope for, a woman, my wife.

Do not, however, get on these friends' bad side. Then you are screwed....because, you know, women never forget.