Baby Doggerel

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Listen to me. Listen to me.
Nine pound six is what I be.
Member of fraternity,
Gender of paternity.

A Poem of Expectation

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What'll you be, what'll you be
Little baby in DC?

I can't wait 'til you see me
When I hold you on my knee.

Gifts and Giving

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Forgive me, but some ideas are just so brilliant that they require boasting.

Some gifts are obligatory, others are not. Unfortunately it is likely that most gifts are of the obligatory sort, like birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, and now I guess Valentines Day. What's next, Columbus Day? I'm sure the national office of the Chamber of Commerce and Hallmark Cards are jointly working on a reason why it too should be honored with a gift. As a person who has a lot of trouble with obligations of all sorts, I have long thought that the spontaneous gift, the gift that is inspired by the giver's recognition of the perfect complementarity of the gift and giftee, is a far superior gift. Maybe this is just the rationalization of a cheap and lazy man.

I must admit to a bit of pride in some of the measures taken to meet my gift obligations over the years. Early on there was a wry note written to my father explaining how, despite my honest intent and sincere wish to honor his birthday by cleaning up his basement work area, not even Hercules could actually accomplish that task. By far the most frequent recipient of a last minute, not-from-any-store type gift from me is my dear wife. These gifts have been of three general types: the gift of an item owned by me and hated by her, which once gifted can be removed from the premises, (a certain lawn chair was the first in this category), the gift of exclusive use of a previously shared item. A couple of years ago I gave her the controller that commands our bedroom TV. It now bears a note that reads, "This controller belongs to Beth Gibson. If your name is not Beth Gibson put it down immediately." And finally of course there is the gift of improved future behavior which can be given by anyone who has not always behaved perfectly in the past. At the moment no example comes to mind, but I know I have used this and in fact it can be a great gift.

Beth's birthday is in October. One year after I had honored the day with one of the above type gifts I was soundly scolded by a great friend whose husband once gave her a surprise Jaguar automobile for her birthday. On Christmas eve that year I walked through a lovely snow storm the two or three miles to our nearest mall and there at a very nice ladies store I bought a red satin night gown. This night gown was worn for about twenty minutes on the night of the 25th and then returned, by Beth, on the 26th.

I'm getting close now to the point. Yesterday I believe I made my most inspired gift. It was not obligatory. It was spontaneous, thoughtful, of impressive value to the recipient, and best of all, not only painless to me, but in fact liberating. Yesterday I gave my wife my hair. Not all of it actually, but all above my mouth, in ascending order, mustache, nose, ear, eye brow and head. It's now all hers to do with as she wishes. And she has wishes, as I do not, which was always somewhat troublesome for us. But no more. One more step toward marital Nirvana.

A Troubling Paradox

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For at least four and a half decades I have loathed the prospect of being old. About four and a half days ago I realized that I have a deep wish to live a long time.

Is this completely vacuous? Is there anything at all being said?

When at age 26 I wrote my suicide note I apparently did't realize that I wanted to live a long time, or perhaps I thought another 39 years was a long time. However when, in 2004, I skipped gaily right through the appointed year I didn't remember that my time was up and it wasn't until last week that I realized that even now I want a lot more. But I still don't want to be old, ever!

My wife was right, right?

An Overheard Remark

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It was Friday morning and I was at North Seattle Community College undergoing humility training in the company of a bunch of 18 somethings. I had just finished with Futility 101, aka Yoga, and was heading to Humiliation 300, aka Body Conditioning, when I chanced to overhear one student say to another, "My friend is having a 90's party tonight...."



Any reader who does not get why this is worth posting is too young to be reading this blog.

A Bumper Sticker I Wish I Had

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IT'S NOT MY AGE. I'VE ALWAYS DRIVEN LIKE THIS.


I have recently come to realize that in the realm of interpersonal relations, I am at my absolute worst while driving a car. I am impatient. I am judgmental. I am defensive in the personality sense; not in the driving sense. And I can, if provoked, become demonstrative of all of these qualities. What sadly is new, is that I have become particularly sensitive about my age. I think that I am in fact about an average driver, which means of course that from time to time I screw up, sometimes to the point of drawing some kind of reprimand from one or two of my fellow drivers. The last couple of times this has happened I have discovered that my own somewhat testy response to a raised finger or whatever, is in part due to my thinking that, seeing my white beard and crinkled face, the other guy thinks that my screw up was due to my age. NOT SO. I HAVE ALWAYS DRIVEN LIKE THIS!

The Inauguration

Part I: Overcoming Bigotry

I take it that the national party that we had on Tuesday was, for our black citizens, a celebration of the accomplishment of one of their own, and, for white citizens, a celebration of the fact that we are not as bigoted as we feared we might be. (Oh yes, there was also that part which was the celebration of the return to Texas of Mr. G W Bush.) Now if we can just keep President Obama alive for a term or two we will have accomplished a good thing. But there is something else in the realm of overcoming bigotry that I have not heard mentioned. For me it is actually just about as good as the election of Mr. Obama.

In 2008 we elected as Vice President a professing Catholic, and here’s the important part. Nobody seemed to notice his faith. In the election of 1960 the religious faith of the winning candidate got roughly as much attention as did Mr. Obama’s ancestry this time. That Joe Biden’s Catholicism was not worth mentioning is an indicator of true progress. (Actually I think John Kerry is also Catholic and the fact that I don’t know for certain proves the same thing, except of course that he didn’t get elected.) Over the course of 48 years apparently the fact that a candidate may be Catholic has become utterly irrelevant. So we pat ourselves on the back over the good, but partial accomplishment of electing an African-American. We will know that we really have arrived in the year that we elect a cross dressing atheist and nobody thinks those things are worth mentioning. Imagine that time.

Part II: A Curious Result

On Sunday, two days before the inauguration, I sent the following email to about a dozen people in my address book. These are people I think of as friends. It was sent with only honest and open minded curiosity. It was certainly not intended to be confrontational or to give offense.

Greetings:

This message is going to everyone who I know to have voted for John McCain, or who I think might have. As you know the capital is all atwitter with preparations for the inauguration. However it is certain that the euphoria does not spread to every person in our country. I find myself very interested in how the McCain voters are feeling about all of this and I'd really appreciate it if you would trouble yourself to let me know. In fact if you would like to send this request on to others who might like to chip in that would be fine with me. I've written some questions, but please feel free to write anything you want.

(Questions deleted)

Here’s the curious part. I got one answer. Here I sit, bewildered.