Saturday, October 31, 2009
You Know You're Getting Old When...
The funniest thing about our visit to the [Houston Space Center's] Old Mission Control is that the boys were fascinated by the dial phones on the consoles. “What’s this?” they wanted to know. They were sticking their fingers in the holes and letting the dials spin as if this was the coolest new video game. “I see how this works,” Gus said. “You just stick your finger in the hole with the number you want to dial and move it all the way to the little metal thing. That’s neat.” Lord, I know I’m old and that the world has moved way too quickly when my child is awed by a dial phone!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Retirement Fantasy
Last week our friends Charles and Mary invited us to join them for a long weekend at the beach to help celebrate Mary's 51st birthday. Our B&B owning, across-the-street neighbor recommended a rental property in Troncones, a little north of Zihuatanejo on Mexico's Pacific coast.
The place was next to ideal. The Canadian owners, who'd just arrived from Vancouver, were friendly and gracious. (They went so far as to bake us a cake when we admitted we'd forgotten that little birthday detail.) We stayed in rustic, but nicely appointed, open-air palapas, and had our own private sala and kitchen, which opened onto a large pool. The grounds were beautifully landscaped, palm trees everywhere. Rocky, volcanic tidepools fronted the property and a nice sandy beach was about 100 yards to the south. We spent 4 lovely days reading, lounging in hammocks and playing mindless, if highly competitive, games. When it came time to pack up Tuesday morning, none of us was ready to leave. So... fulfilling a longstanding fantasy of mine, we simply agreed -- what the hell, we're retired, right? -- to stay another day.
What a great decision! That night, we decided to revisit a nearby, romantic beachside restaurant housed in a yoga-meditation retreat. A yoga-meditation retreat I could definitely get behind as it offered a Happy Hour and exceptionally well-stocked bar. We arrived just before sunset, ordered drinks, and proceeded on to dinner as the sky darkened. Much to our surprise, one of the staff walked out onto the beach, inflated a large movie screen, and plugged in a projector. Once it was totally dark, (and beginning to rain), he popped in a DVD of a Rolling Stones concert from the 80's and cranked the volume. There we sat, looking out at the ocean in a pouring rain, martini buzzed and rocking out with about twenty erstwhile strangers from all over the world to some of the best rock music ever! Our last-minute, devil-take-the-hindmost decision to stay on couldn't have been more perfectly (or surprisingly) rewarded.
I'm more convinced than ever, creating memories is where it's at. This one will stick with us for a long, long time.
An Act of Grace
More often than I’d care to admit, I am the last fool running down the platform as the doors of the 7:02 flash and beep, signaling that they are about to close. It is already 7:02, and by rights the conductor should leave me gasping on the platform, muttering sheepish profanities as the train pulls away, my fellow commuters gazing out the windows at me in silent reproach. But—wonder of wonders!—the doors stay open and the conductor waves me in. What accounts for this surprising act of forbearance? Is it pity? No, The New York Times reports this week, it is policy. For decades, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority in New York has quietly kept two schedules for all of its commuter lines—one for the public, and one for train crews. On the crews’ schedules—the real ones—all departures are one minute later than the posted times. This is, without question, the most cheering news I’ve heard in ages.
Yes, I know: It’s just a minute. But it’s more than that—a reason to reconsider my flagging hope for the human race. In our modern, digitized world, there is no longer any margin for error; there is only yes or no, right or wrong, absolutely essential or unemployed. Press a “2” instead of a “3” on some bureaucracy’s automated phone system, and you are doomed to wander forever in a hell realm of unwanted options. For a railroad to silently and systematically grant laggards and procrastinators like me some leeway, to make the 7:02 the 7:03 without telling us …. It’s an act of grace. I don’t know about you, but I can use all the kindness and grace I can get.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Payoff
Mizzy just finished her first 9-week teaching session and we're both as giddy as any of her students ever were upon reaching Vacation Time. I have my playmate back and Mizzy is rediscovering the joys of free time. Soon she'll be back into lesson planning for Session II which begins in early December, but for now... Yippee!!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Turning The Tables
While Mizzy wasn't a stay-at-home mom for all that many years, she still bore the brunt of childrearing and household chores. For a whole lot of years, as I tried to build what became Brains on Fire, I assumed the role of workaholic, breadwinning dad.
Since August, here in Mexico, our roles have suddenly been reversed, and I must say, it's been an eye-opener. I haven't adapted as well I thought I would. Since I've been pretty content being retired, I get resentful of her enthusiasm for the job. I get stir-crazy being home alone for long stretches and get angry when she just wants to relax at home in the evenings. And when we do go out, I get sullen when she needs to leave early to get to bed. I get whiny that she doesn't notice the spotlessly clean kitchen or my new haircut. I get cranky when I have comida ready and Karen gets waylaid somewhere. "Why didn't you call and let me know you were going to be late?!" Yikes! If I had kids to take care of too, I'm sure I'd be on heavy doses of Prozac.
On the other hand, after years of being El Presidente, it's kind of fun to tag along and just be "Karen's husband." I swell with pride when her kids enthuse about what they're learning from her, and write on their blogs what a terrific teacher she is. Also, I have to admit, I feed off her energy and commitment. And yes, every so often she surprises me and makes me feel totally validated. Just last month, she bought me a brand-new iron and ironing board!
Friday, October 02, 2009
Well Said
He said, "A strong nation, like a strong person, can afford to be gentle, firm, thoughtful, and restrained. It can afford to extend a helping hand to others. It is a weak nation, like a weak person, that must behave with bluster and boasting and rashness and other signs of insecurity."
