Rained much of the day yesterday, the wind blowing hard. Turned the heat on for the first time in the morning, just to take the chill off. The year has been an eventful one, but know it’s winding down, groping its way into a new year that holds perhaps less hope than trepidation. Foreign wars, economic malaise, politics as usual. Everyone wondering if this is the bottom, and if not, how much worse will it get. Wondering, when it’s finally over, what will emerge. Our “exceptionalism”, such as it is, I think was always based not so much on a certainty of rectitude – we’ve far too much experience being wrong – as a certain confidence that we’d figure it out in time. Now that confidence is badly shaken, and we have gone from young to late middle age in a seeming blink of an eye, harboring doubts and regrets, in debt up to our ears, no real way of knowing how we’re going to pull this off.
Or maybe that’s just me.
We had the company holiday party on Friday evening, and they did it up in style. The “Don Room” at the old Cortez Hotel in downtown. Drank a tot, dined well – even danced! I wish I could tell you, gentle reader, that it was The Blue Danube that had set me to tripping the light fantastic, but it was instead the DJ’s spinning of “Play that Funky Music White Boy,” that got the rug cut. It’s a song with so many associations that it fair catapults me out of my seat. The Hobbit is a good sport, she tolerates this in me.
Chatted with a lady friend of a co-worker. Has spent such an interesting life that I found myself wondering if that had been the point, an almost self-conscious attempt to be interesting. Spoke of having been to Africa, and speaking a bit of Swahili, surprising the natives. I have never met anyone before who spoke Swahili, at least so far as I am aware. It has never before come up in casual conversation at least. Couldn’t help wondering if that was the point too, being able, in casual conversation, to bring up one’s versatility in African tongues. I found myself more bemused than impressed. Asked her to dance anyway, it being the holidays, and the Hobbit being tolerant also in this. She knows who I’m going home with.
Saturday was a day to rescue cars from the clutches of divers mechanics. My little BMW being down for a radiator leak (and BMW, as it turns out, meaning “Bring My Wallet” in the context of automotive repairs). Also, the Ancient Caravan emerged from its latest bout of collision repairs. The Biscuit, coming off her third mishap in nine months time, having over the intervening period cast doubt on your correspondent’s once vaunted ability to teach complex skills to novices. No one ever gets hurt, thank God (and knock wood), but those deductibles don’t pay themselves and I can’t help wondering when the insurance company is going to run out of patience.
Then, off with the Kat and one of her amis for to buy a Christmas tree. Was the story. Only a certain tree lot would do, and upon arriving thence, ulterior motives were suspected. Turned out a certain “Dillon” worked at this particular place, a fine, strapping young man of the Kat’s acquiantance. “Strapping” in the context of a high school freshman. Tubular and spotted through the lenses of watchful fatherhood. There was much giggling, blushing and hair-flicking, but little actual tree shopping for a span of time that stretched the length of a good book. I was eventually forced to apply Lean Six Sigma practices to complete the assigned task, drove off with the tree atop my little car and the girls staring regretfully through the back window at the fast receding tree lot. Only to come to an emergency stop a quarter mile down track. Whatever else his virtues, Dillon could learn a thing or two about tying a knot.
Each passing day brings a new package from FedEx or UPS, each of them expertly evaluated by glittering eyes. They’ll show up under the tree in time, wrapped and be-ribboned, ready to be hefted and shaken after the ‘rents have hit the hay, and perhaps – who knows? – peered into and re-wrapped. They’re clever, hopeful beasts.
So, yeah. I guess it is me.
Picardy is playing. Time to dress that tree.
Heh,
We were going to put up the tree and finish the interior decorations, but mother nature intervened. The ice storms swept into Maine (and much of New England) and we lost power about 7am friday morning. Just came back on a bit ago, and we’re warming up the house, and seeing what we can salvage out of the refrigerator.
I find the cold to be less tolerable as I age. The youngster, apparently does to, although the lack of power meaning she couldn’t use her laptop was seemingly more distressing than the -9 degrees temperatures. At least to day the sun made an appearance. That’s always helpful.
Different this year as well. It’s just me and the girl right now, with the boy overseas with Uncle Sam and the older girl (young woman, actually) away at College. She’s got finals this week, and will be home after that. Senior year, and she’s starting to realize the loans that will soon come due. Sigh. She’s starting to think that a commission might not be so bad a thing as when I first floated the concept.
Anyway, we might get the tree up tonight, depending upon how we thaw out. Otherwise, it’ll be sometime during the week.
Another year, though. How’d that happen?
Sigh.
Lex,
FYI, scifi.com has started a 10 part BG webisode if you’re suffering from withdrawal.
And more on topic, Jeff Dunham (ventriloquist; his Achmed the Dead Terrorist gets a lot of play around the office) has had a Christmas special on Comedy Central for the last month. Why they cut out the opening monologue I don’t know, but the DVD has it; Jeff talks about his daughter’s first gas stop since getting her own car.
I suspect you’ll find it worth the price.
Heard a way thats shuts almost everyone up.
It is to be able to say truthfully “while I was on the moon”.
Read or heard this years ago about lines that cannot be topped.
Lex … lovely insight into the arcane [to me] practices of responsible fatherhood of teenaged beauties. Looking back, far back, into my own teenagery, I guess we were just as silly. But I remember it as a frequently painful time, bossed sternly as I was by another alpha male who couldn’t be conned, no matter how hard I tried.
By the way … what are “Lean Six Sigma” practices? Are they effective in civilian life?
Marianne
While you’re working on the tree let me be the first to wish you, and yours, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Thanks for a number of hearty laughs, and some very thoughtful observations on things naval, and not.
And if the new year holds a a new position, and a new location, I wish you a smooth transition.
Finally, I wish you the time, and the inclination, to try your hand at putting your talents to a book. Your writing shows great talent and evokes, at least in me, memories of Antoine de Saint Exupery and his Night Flight. There is a new generation that could use something to ignite their imagination, and I suspect that is a torch you could carry with elan.
Amen to that, Marine6! Book! Book! We want The Book! Please!
That Jeff Dunham clip…
When we lived in Louisville we had a pre-Civil War monster with 17′ ceilings
on main floor. Always got 14′ trees. Were a BEAR to decorate, but looked fab when done. One year wife let female “friend” seduce her in “back to nature” movement which saw two families worth treck to the woods to “harvest”
our “very own” trees–SOooo much “satisfaction” you know……
Well……..let me put it this way. Only thing I can think of more likely to cause an MI in a middle-aged male than dragging a 14′ (mas o menos) tree over rough terrain thickly populated by brambles and bushes tugging at every branch of the tree every step of the way
would be if the tree were a grown Moose or Bear (Griz, Kodiak, Black, Polar–take your pick.) Two-a-day football practices in full gear in Aug while in top shape as a HS teenager with teen-age healthy heart were AS OF NOTHING compared what I went thru for Luuvand a happy wife and/or home
on this occasion.
Just a WORD TO THE WISE if the “little woman” takes a shine to the greater glories of naturalism–unless you’re a lumberjack and/or Paul Bunyan
that is…. (PS, I’m 5′81/2″–never forget that 1/2″–and, at the time 160lbs, max.
Draw your own mental picture of me AND the tree AND the “woods”…AND the language….)
Hey AW1 Tim – How does this ice storm compare to those of past? I was in Bath in Jan ‘98 finishing up the building of Decatur when an ice storm hit, seemed to knock New England back and down for near a 10 count. I’d never even heard of an ice storm prior to that, having been reared here on the Left Coast of Kalifornia. Hope all is well with you and your neighbors, from what I remember it was brutal on quite a few people when I lived through one.
Question though… why not just open the fridge door?
Skipper,
You’re welcome any time at our little country church in the middle of town (City Heights). We have nominally 40-50 adult Swahili speakers in attendance every Sunday. Most fresh off the boat from East African refugee camps in the past 2 years.
They insist on staying in the English service (bent on assimilation — bless them). So, we re-preach the sermon afterwards through an interpreter while the english speaking adults go off to discussion groups.
fwiw, That’s an interesting experience as a preacher… You have to adjust content for ‘terp time and audience perception/background. Also you’re never quite sure what’s being lost (or added) in translation. Often a simple sentence results in 2-3 minutes of Swahili by the ‘terp.
3 mishaps in 9 months? As a(n honor) graduate of the United States Navy’s Aviation Safety Officer School, I recommend a Human Factors Board. You might find our that she has been operating under an undue amount of stress, or perhaps she never fully recovered from that cold.
Or, it could be that as a female, she is just plum crazy. They all are, you know.
Thanks Nose. Much appreciate that.
It’s hard to believe it’s that close to Christmas yet again. I remember your tree decoration post from last year which happened to appear the same weekend we delighted in our tree. No tree up yet here. Not much sign of one either at the moment. Although there will have to be one, of course. The kids will eventually ensure that. But it’s an awful lot harder this year.
Still, life does go on. So Merry Christmas and thanks for another great year, Lex. And ditto on the book thing.
~Sheesh, you would think he would have taken the hint by now!~
Yes indeed, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to Lex, his family, and everyone else here in “Lex-Land.”!
Lee,
The Ice Storm of ‘98 was something else entirely. Back then, we spent 4 days in a local shelter before we got power back. It was brutal. One of the large branches of the weeping willow in my front yard snapped and went through the bay window. Took out one of my keyboards (the piano kind) and the resulting wind and rain forced water into a bunch of ZIP discs I had nearby with more than 40 hours of studio recordings. They froze and destroyed the discs.
Itwas bad, but not as bad as some places. More than 1/4 of all the trees in Maine had some sort of damage. A week or so later, I drove up to Togus VA Hospital, and it looked like a warzone, with the tops of trees off, as if airburst rounds had been set off all over. Some folks went almost two weeks before power came back.
Could always be worse, ayuh…
You guys are making our artificial tree (s) look better all the time.
Virgil – - check for squirrels and keep Uncle Louis away from the tree.
Tim,
All in all, hope you guys fair out well, as I’m sure you all will. Nothin’ like it here on the Left Coast. First winter I spend on the East Coast (last too for that matter) and it’s one for the ages. Made a believer outa me as to what ‘weather’ really is. Course, the long hours spent waiting it out in the Bounty at the Holiday Inn in Bath we’re not too harsh an environment to hang out in. Easy to keep the beers cold, and all the people inside made it cozy! Hang in there man.
Marianne: Six Sigma is the latest rage in management techniques and problem resolution, focused on the repair of defects. Civilian, Military – works everywhere. Given that the defect for Lex’s lean application was a pair of teenage females in the thrall of their hormones, I wonder that it worked at all, lean or otherwise.
Tim – some of my family in MA is facing a repeated of the 1998 situation – no power still and it could be 2 more days at least. Glad you were just far north of it to be spared a repeat of ‘98. My sister had a tree take out the pole with the wires to her house – said tree landed in her front yard, thankfully not too close to her house. She lost 3 others in the yard, and again thankfully none hit her house.
Lex,
No, it’s not just you. Makes me feel good, though, knowing it’s not just me either.
The smell of Christmas cookies baking, crackle of firewood burning. Home feels different when December begins to unveil her days. I hope we remember the family, joy and hope when reflecting in our greyer years instead of… the other stuff. Family first.
Merry Christmas.
Lex sez…
Turned the heat on for the first time in the morning, just to take the chill off.
I’ve been shoveling snow for a month.
Swore off ever going with my wife to buy a tree again after last year, when we walked by at least a hundred perfectly good ones to cut one down at the far side of the farm.
I’d like to think its some sort of bath tub curve effect, learning a new skill, resulting in a high failure rate, leveling off as aptitude is gained, rather than the ‘just plum crazy woman’ theory.
A few thoughts on the multiple crashes, assuming they are considered her fault, although you didn’t plainly state so… I’m a small woman and driving big vehicles is a challenge for me. I flat can’t see the front passenger corner of the car. I have to have a feel for the vehicle I’m driving. I don’t know how big she is, perhaps she is far taller than my 5′2″, but big vehicles are a big adjustment for me.
Also, I wear glasses for distances, but not to the point I would ever fail a driver’s test, requiring my wearing them for driving. I don’t know about her vision, but I have found that although I can readily pass the test without them, at night in particular, it helps for me to wear them. I have some depth perception issues.
Lastly, I do have a gf, whose daughter has some ADD issues. They’ve had multiple collisions in one year.
Oh and then you also run into the confidence issue. Get in one accident, you’re shaken. Get in two and you wonder what’s going on. Get in that 3rd and you get the feeling of “I can’t do this…” She’s a young driver, that could be an issue now.
I have to hand it to her… I’d probably have run off with a gypsy caravan rather than face my Dad after accident #3. Just sayin’…
“company holiday party on Friday evening”
Me too, last Fri! Same music! “Program” party last Thursday, other companies office parties and combined parties next week..The “Drinking Season” we call it back here..
Your first as a civvie! Cherry Boy! LOL.
b2
Re “Dillon” and Kat: you may want to consider the possible difficulty in remembering all of these young men’s names (and there will be a lot of them). My youngest daughter changed boyfriends in her Jr. High and High School years with great regularity. So I came to style all of them as simply “Mr. Wonderful”. The Mr. Wonderfuls came–and went –until she was a senior in high school, at which point the frequency of turnover slowed considerably. She’s now a safely married woman of 35 years of age–but I saved myself a lot of grief in trying to remember the young lad’s names. As she told me when she was about 25, “Dad, all you ever did was look at the guys and grunt.” They got the message that was sent. Odd, since in my day job I was fluent in English.
Turned on the heat for the first time? I knew we should have moved to S.D. when we had the chance. Not the great white north here in Boise, but we did have a dusting of snow over the weekend.
Daughter, son and I arrived at our local YMCA Sunday morning for our 6 mile foothills run to find that the other 4 members of our running group had wimped out. I would have done the same, but had to show the kids that a little snow never stopped the old man.
The first mile or so was fine, warming up and figuring out the footing. My version of the Cat decided it was time to pass the dear old dad and try to catch up to her little brother. Just as she got beside me she tripped over a raised piece of sidewalk and made a beautiful swan dive/face plant into the snow (maybe 3 or 4 inches, as I said, a dusting.) I slid to a halt, visualizing how to explain the two broken arms to the Navy, since she leaves for Boot Camp in 3 weeks and a wakeup. Before I could even get to her she popped up, huge grin on her face, covered with snow, none the worse for wear. She did receive a 7.5 from the Russian Judge though.
The rest of the run was uneventful.
The Cat made it to 19 before her first accident, but she did have one a few months back. Got the Buick back as good as new, and the daughter offered to pay the deductible. I was tempted to turn her down, but she’s going to be making money she can’t spend for the next few months, so I took it. I’m not proud.
Got a fake tree for the first time this year (Festival of Trees tree from my wifes work.) It won’t be the same not hunting for the perfect one, but that was something for the kids when they were young. I’ll adjust.
And I’ll second (third, fourth ?) the book request. Your fans await.
“company holiday party on Friday evening”
Me too, last Fri! Same music! “Program” party last Thursday, other companies office parties and combined parties next week..The “Drinking Season” we call it back here….
Your first as a civvie! Cherry Boy! LOL.
b2
I have to hand it to her… I’d probably have run off with a gypsy caravan rather than face my Dad after accident #3. Just sayin’…
I have to hand it to both of them–him for teaching her and her for allowing him to.
I bought a fake tree about 20 years ago and never looked back. I remembered all those long cold walks in the wood with my father when I was young. Cold wet feet, frozen hands and face, Dad swearing about something or other and Mother muttering under her breath about Dad’s swearing
Then there was the fun od trying to get the thing up onto the station wagon and tied down with frozen fingers working on cold frozen clothesline. And then the fun of getting it untied and into the house, with Mother looking at all the wet and muddy boot prints tracked across the floors, the layers of pine needles and then having to get rid of it later.
All I hafta do is haul the box into the living room, and me and the little one put it together, string the lights, and VOILA! A beautiful faux blue spruce that doesn’t shed..
Yeah, I’m a bit curmedgeonly regarding the tree, but I make up for it in other ways …
Respects,