On Being Numb

Once again, I’m finding myself fairly numb. Perhaps it’s my age, perhaps the grind of work (or the semi-grind of it). Not excited to get up, although it is far better than December.

It’s really the rather endless nature of it all more than anything. All days seem the same, with no beginning and no end. Small, incremental changes, aging, growing kids - but nothing right now shows any of the mile markers of life.

I suppose that I shouldn’t complain - those mile markers can be either good or bad. Hanging on to the middle - the neither good nor bad - probably does create this rather frameless world where one can simply float, from day to day, from week to week, from year to year.

It is time to start something, but I’m afraid to jump. Like most of my life, I have been in a situation where the status quo is good enough to live comfortably, but never enough to be fully happy. Too good to risk it all, though. Consistently too good to risk it all.

I suppose that is the cause of upper class malaise - something which I am definitely suffering from. It’s not a struggle to survive, just a long, relatively formless and boring march. That’s the problem, I suppose.

I Saw a Ghost Tonight

Tonight, on the eve of my 50th Birthday, I saw a ghost. He was hanging out at a coffeehouse/music cafe in Culver City. He was a bulky guy, about 5’10”, maybe 230-240 lbs. Red hair, a round and fleshy face, big lips - about 25 years old. He was there with a woman, maybe his girlfriend, maybe his wife - pretty, but not gorgeous, a little overweight - and perhaps 5-10 years older than he was. In his face, I saw a mirror of who I was - what I was - I saw myself.

Twenty-five years ago, in Boston, another bulky guy, 6’2”, maybe 230-240 lbs, with red hair, a round and fleshy face, and big lips was hanging out at a coffeehouse/music cafe. He was with a woman, his girlfriend, pretty but not gorgeous, a little overweight - and seven years older than he was.

I couldn’t take my eyes off this kid at the coffeehouse. I watched his every move. On this, the end of my 49th year - the official end of anything I could call my youth - I stood there, staring at the ghost of me a half-a-lifetime ago.

Tonight, a child is being born - one who will be a bulky guy, about 6’, maybe 230-240 lbs. Red hair, a round and fleshy face, big lips. He’ll be with a woman, pretty but not gorgeous, a little overweight, and about 5 years older than he is. Fifty years from now, in a coffee house somewhere, I will see him - the ghost of the first half of my life. He probably won’t notice me - I’ll be small, shriveled and bent over by then. But in his face, I will see a mirror of who I was - what I was - I will see myself.

Somebody's Father...

I’m in San Francisco at a Starbucks, New Year’s Day, waiting for my older child to finish a training camp. Next to me are a group of 20-somethings, basking in the post NYE glow.

The guy next to me (in a red baseball cap) was joking with his friends about how his dad hates the friend’s hair (true, it’s somewhat pink and spiky). A good laugh was had over the baseball cap’s dad and whether he likes the other guy’s hair.

The conversation continued, talking about another guy’s dad who made it during the “dot-com” era - he got on the ground floor of the world series of poker. It was like it was ancient history - the invention of the light bulb or something.

Wait, I’m a dad, too.

Fuck, I’m old!

Abstinence and our Government - the middle ages are upon us...

Recently, there have been a number of “public service” ads promoting abstinence until marriage. Now, as a parent of a teen-age daughter and a pre-teen son, certainly the message is targeted toward me and my family. However, I wonder whether the message presents a realistic opportunities to today’s young adults - and whether we’re missing the boat on contraception and other important public health initiatives.

The single biggest problem that I have with the initiative, conceptually, is that it encourages early marriage, a scourge that this society has, to a large extent, gotten rid of - particularly because of its stifling effect on girls, who generally marry younger than boys.

If one listens to the propoganda offered by the government media, horniness will force more to marry early - so that they, too, can enjoy sex.

To be sure, I have nothing against slowing the rate of teen pregnancy - it is a laudable goal. Also, one has to recognize that women are naturally more responsible than men for dealing with the aftermath. However, expecting kids to be able to resist purely natural urges until marriage creates an incentive toward marriage at an age that is too young and for reasons that may not encourage marital stability.

If I were designing public policy, I’d require all kids to learn about all alternatives, then provide girls with additional education intended to make them more careful, either through abstinence or through proper birth control. After all, they and their families tend to disproportionately wind up with the responsibility of rearing these children.

Semi-Stillness

The day after Christmas always seems to be a bit of a letdown - even though I don’t really celebrate it. There is a certain crescendo in the air that leads up to Christmas, then the darkness, the stillness of the day itself. It is like the day after a funeral - when those left behind begin to halfheartedly resume their lives. They know that they have to do it - that they have to pick themselves up by the bootstraps - but they are overwhelmed by a blanket of malaise. Like a thick, heavy snowfall.

The day after always seems so empty - cities half-full, people half-into what they need to be doing, and no “big bang” to look forward to. Instead, it is sort of a week of idling - can’t really work because there isn’t much to do, can’t really play because there is no one to play with. Just an empty semi-stillness.

In the snow, the stillness seems to have another reason - a blanket of cold and white covering the earth. But here, there is no snow.

I took a drive through a large swath of Los Angeles today - all on the local roads, not the freeways. It, too, was filled with the stillness. But why? In mid-day Los Angeles, with the sun shining and the sky blue, there seems little good reason for the stillness. It is like the entire town is on valium.

The new year beckons, but even this one will be a bit weird. When New Years’ is close to the weekend - Thursday or Friday - the weekend becomes a long party which eventually ends. However, when it is on a Tuesday, like this year, people will be dragging through their hangovers at their various tasks throughout the week.

But in another week or so, the slumber will begin to end. Whether up or down, the year will start, people will get back to their lives, and the machine will keep on turning. Like it always does.

Who Would Jesus Tax?

In an interesting article in the New York Times, Susan Pace Hamill, a law professor at the University of Alabama, cited biblical text in faulting tax policies of states that put a heavier burden on the poor than the rich. Of course, conservative Christian organizations are decrying this, as they focus on charity as the way to help the poor, not redistribution of income. Some have even criticized as using the bible wrongly to justify socialism. After all, we all know that Jesus, had he been alive today, would be a venture capitalist.

While I am neither a Christian nor a biblical scholar, I do think that she is on to something. A couple of things, at that. I’ve long thought that conservative Christians have misused the biblical texts to justify greed, avarice, and power grabbing. In any argument between public and private morality, it is difficult to imagine that the intent of biblical text was a laissez faire attitude to individual greed.

The problem is that we’re dealing with extremes - extreme greed, extreme and false holiness, extreme anger. In “socialist” environments, we deal with extreme socialism - where the greed of individuals is subjugated to the greed of groups. Neither paint the proper picture.

Instead, a gentle, socialist environment - where people get what they need without overt, extreme compulsion - seems to be what is expected. Not a libertarian world without rules, nor an authoritarian “workers” world. Maybe this is what we need to strive for.

Christmas 2007

Another year is passing - a hectic year at that. It began with optimism - a new job, a great opportunity, finally “making it” - then suffered great disappointment. But out of those ashes came a quick, almost seamless renewal - one where the goals of the new job were not just met, but in many cases exceeded.

Next year is right around the corner. It holds both fear and promise. Fear because it I reach that clear, unambiguous milestone of middle age - 50. What will the last have - my “declining years” - be like? I can no longer go through life with blinders on as to aging - I now have to face it as it faces me.

Hope because of the successes through the troubles of ‘07, because of some ideas that I’ve got that could turn into great successes, and because after all of the shit that has gone on over the past ten years - the jobs, the moves, the fights - my family remains together and stronger - if a bit dented.

Also, the kids are no longer children, but young adults - with independent minds and sense of their own. The daughter, particularly, is getting to the point where you can see that she’ll be on he own in a few short years. The son is hanging on to childhood as long as he can, but as I now know succinctly, hanging on to youth is a loosing battle.

I’m one who always suffers melancholy during the holidays. This one is no different - although the depression is perhaps less pointed. It is there, it is real, but it is affecting me less. Maybe I’m just a little too battered by it all.

I do hope that we can get to a point where we’re optimistic about our kids’ futures. Not just me, but society as a whole. Will they “do better” economically than I? Maybe yes, maybe no, but hopefully they will discover more consistent happiness in their lives and accomplishments than I’ve been able to muster. Maybe that’s the “more” I wish for them - more happiness, more satisfaction, more connection with the reality around them than I’ve ever had.

With that, I’ll close this Christmas morning commentary. The melancholy is kicking in (no surprise) and nothing can really relieve its cloak.