Pretty Good Year

12/29/71
So it's my birthday. My 41st, as my mom reminded me by writing and circling the number 41 on my birthday card. We actually did my birthday thing yesterday since George works Saturdays. Mom and Dad had some casino holiday party to go to. They can't skip out on a free buffet. So we didn't even end up eating since George and I had each had a late-ish lunch. I'm staying with the dogs at John and Pedro's so it was a pretty quiet day.

I headed over to Mom and Dad's around 6:00. Me and George watched a movie, Fright Night with David Tennant! and just hung out until they got home around 8:00. George told me I was not allowed to look in the fridge. Um... okay, I said.

Finally Mom and Dad arrived and they gave me the birthday card with a gift card inside. Then it was time for George's big reveal. He told Dad to cover my eyes. I was sat down at the kitchen counter. I heard George and my Mom whispering. Finally they were ready and Dad took his hands away. What I saw was a Tardis, lying on its side on the counter. "Oh, it's the Tardis!" I said. George looked at me expectantly, as I peered at it. "It's a cake!" he blurted excitedly. I did a double take. A cake made in the shape of the Tardis! It was red velvet, I was told. Painstakingly crafted in fondant, down to the little keyhole on the door, the perfect shade of Tardis blue, the Police Public Call Box banner around the top, the windows, the Pull to Open sign. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen! And I've seen a giant cake shaped like a MINI. But this, the level of detail was splendid. Except one thing, as George pointed out. No blue light on the top.  In the photo he had given them you couldn't see it. It was mounted on a styrofoam platform. "Oh my god," I said, "We can't eat this! It's too beautiful."

"What do you mean we're not going to eat it?" Mom said. "We have to. It's your cake!" George said the bakery folks had told him to leave it out of the fridge for 3 hours before eating so the fondant could soften. It still had an hour to go so I agreed to take pictures of it now, and then in an hour we would cut it open. But there was more. George had placed a large box wrapped in blue paper with an orange ribbon and bow. Mets colors! "Open it!" he encouraged. I took the box and pulled off the ribbon and started unfolding the paper at the corners. It was a plain white box about the size a large fancy hat might be put in, but it was heavy. I put it down and lifted the lid. Inside was a yellow envelope that said "New York Mets, City Field, Flushing, New York." Under that was a bubble wrapped object with a sticker that said Mets Amazing Memorabilia. I looked at George who was beaming with pride. I opened the bubble wrap and pulled out a large rubbery object. It was first base! Actually first base from Citi Field! One of them at least, that was used in a game in August of 2009, the inaugural season of the new ballpark. It still had dirt on it! I was dumbstruck.  I looked at the base in my hands. I looked at George. "Say Thank You," my Mom urged. I put the base down and gave George a big hug. "Thanks Goob!"

After taking many photos we finally cut open the Tardis to find the yummy red velvet cake. We sliced off the bottom segment of the police box and then cut that into four large pieces. It doesn't look that big from the outside, but we calculated you could probably feed 20 people from it.  Bigger on the inside! "This cake really needs a party," I said. But as long as I can remember, birthdays have always just been us four. With the cake cut open we could see that the fondant Tardis panels were applied to the cake with a layer of buttercream. The inside of the cake had the usual cream cheese icing. I didn't want to each the fondant. I said we should save them and then reassemble the Tardis later, but George had already eaten some of his. We put the rest of the cake into the giant box my 1st base was in so it would travel safely. At the end of the evening I put it in the front seat of the MINI. I put the base in a shopping back to head back to the dogs.

Today, I took the day to go shopping. When I left the shops I drove home to drop off my purchases even though it was out of my way. I already have quite a lot of stuff to carry when I leave John and Pedro's tomorrow including the gifts the guys got for me for Christmas and my birthday. All that, and I get to hang out with the dogs. That's a pretty good weekend so far.

Now some review of other happenings this year.

The Mets
As per usual, had a good first half, then faded quickly in the second. But we did have a no-hitter this year, thrown by Johan Santana, and a 20-game winner AND Cy Young winner in R.A. Dickey. Sadly, the Mets took advantage of Dickey's pinnacle of value and traded him in the offseason to Toronto for some prospects. With him went Josh Thole and Mike Nickeas, all of whom I'm sad to see go. Hopefully the prospects will work out for us. Ike Davis passed 30 homers after a god-awful start. And David Wright hit over 20 for the first time since Citi Field opened. David signed a big contract which will likely keep him a Met for the rest of his career. Some say he was paid too much, but I think in an age where you can lose a batting title winner (Jose Reyes) and a Cy Young winner (R.A. Dickey) in consecutive years, there's a lot of value in having both a team and a player committed to their fans for the long haul. I love David as a player. Though his power numbers are down, he's still hitting for a high average and his fielding at 3rd base is as good as ever.  His leadership in the clubhouse is integral. And as a person, he contributes a lot to the community, doing amazing charity work, and it seems he is still more humble than anyone in his position can be expected to be.

Work
At work, I've had an up and down year. My depression has been rearing its ugly head in the office at the most inconvenient times. I've taken a step back from my co-workers. But lately I've been getting a lot of recognition for my actual work which includes two raises and a promotion. So that's good. I'm coming to the realization that this may be my career. Not there yet, but coming.

TV
Doctor Who
This year, George started watching Doctor Who which is really exciting for me because it's another thing to bond over. George got me a bunch of Doctor Who stuff for Christmas, which he was so excited to give me, which made it even greater. On the show, we said good-bye to Amy and Rory and hello to Clara/Oswin. Still with the 11th Doctor.

30 Rock

The final season is about halfway over. Each episode will be accompanied by the dread of the impending end. But the episodes so far are as good as ever. Liz Lemon got married dressed as Princess Leia! Kenneth is finally free of the evil Miss Wassername. Jenna also got married at Jack's mother's funeral. Seriously, this happened. I belatedly discovered this show last year, but now I can't imagine not knowing those characters. Especially Kenneth.

Movies
Wreck-It Ralph

It's brilliant! It's John C. Reilly as Ralph, Jack McBrayer as Fix-it Felix, and an entire brilliant cast of voice actors. An adorable underdog story and tale of friendship. I'm obsessed. I have the toys.

Books
Sadly, I haven't read much this year. I don't know why. Things just seem to get in the way. I have a list so I hope to get cracking on it in 2013. I checked my Amazon purchase list and it seemed all but one of the books I read this year was a memoir; Tina Fey, Mindy Kaling, R.A. Dickey, Elna Baker, Fred Stoller, and Rachel Dratch. And Chris Hardwick's The Nerdist Way was a sort of hybrid memoir/self help. Weird because last year was such a good year for fiction.  I did get to meet Jennifer Egan at the book festival though, so that was pretty cool. She gave a reading from A Visit to the Goon Squad. We talked about Jake! Oh, honorable mention to The Influencing Machine, an astonishing graphic non-fiction work by Brooke Gladstone from On the Media and Josh Neufeld.

Music
Muse released a new album and me and George have tickets for their show here in March. Glee is still loads of fun. The Book of Mormon, the Musical is fantastic. I liked Keane's Strangeland. MINI Takes the States was a good time for road trip play lists. Also driving down to Dodger Stadium with Dad

Pets

I got the turtles this year. Sidney and Scout. They are a handful, but fun.

Games, Social Media, etc.
I've pretty much abandoned FarmVille for The Sims Free Play. My Kenneth and Jennifer Sims got married on 12/12/12. I joined Pinterest, Instagram and Pose and use them hardly ever. I haven't been to Second Life all year. I hardly tweet or check Facebook unless I get a personal message. I did however reconnect with an old friend from Germany through Linked-In so that's nice.

General Well-Being
Not bad, but not great. I've changed medications again after a long time. My sleep is better. My fitness level is not good. I've ridden the bike some more. But I'm having some back issues that prevent me from walking for a long time. And there's this weird numbness/burning sensation in my left thigh when I wake up in the morning. I've made an appointment with Dr. Chinn. It's all the damn sitting at work and the commuting. Things go downhill fast in that respect.

I don't want to end on a downer as I have a tendency to do when I look back. So I guess I can say that I've been making an effort to write more. Not always getting it done, but it's something I think about everyday. I've had some ideas, and actually written them down. I got the best new laptop. And I'm doing some research. It's slow going, but still worth doing I think. We'll see what the new year brings.
In the meantime, there's this! Sim wedding!

And This!

George gave me this Fix-it Felix doll as a pre-Christmas gift in the weirdest way possible.
He texted me the following from work:
George: Hey Goob, did you do something wrong? Someone is here in my office and says he heard you were my sister so he figured he would come see me.
Me: Huh? No...
George: He said not to worry though, he can "fix-it!"
Then he sent me the above picture of Felix on his desk at work. He scared the crap out of me. I was trying to remember if I'd run any red lights recently.

Mohammed My Friend

So Jemma is feeling a bit pressured by her friend Mo. Every time she logs on, he is there demanding her time. It's not just that. He is constantly telling her how much he loves her and thinks about her. Jemma has to be blunt. She doesn't feel the same. How could she? She barely knows the guy. After being offline for a few days this week due to my dead Time Capsule, Mo tells Jemma he was worried about her, and wants to know if she was thinking about him in RL. I have to admit I was thinking about him. I was thinking maybe I should take an even longer break from SL to let him cool off. But then I got a better idea. I created an alt. His name is Marshall, and while he is not as yet fully formed, he's going to have something to say if Mo doesn't stop putting so much pressure on Jemma. Getting Marshall and Jemma online at the same time requires two computers, and since it seems SL is always crashing at least one of my computers, that hasn't happened yet. But it will, hopefully soon.

I noticed when creating Marshall that SL has changed the way you choose user names. You don't pick a first name and then choose from a list of available last names. I guess it got too hard to keep coming up with unique surnames for the millions of residents. So Marshall's name is MarshallMiller (one word). I spent a bunch of time last night trying to dress and style him to somewhat resemble his namesake. But it was trickier than I thought. He still looks pretty generic. I think Jemma will have to buy him some clothes and maybe some different prim hair, since he's not going to have his own money.

Other than that, not much has happened in SL this week. I had to work on Friday, so we missed SciFri, and then by the time I got the new Time Capsule up and running, I was too tired to spend much time there. Jemma kept Mo at arm's length, which he wasn't happy about. And she did chat again with Madame T., her neighbor. I'm trying to see what use the Pocket Metaverse app is on my phone. So far I can log on and respond to messages, but not much else. May come in handy though when I get bored at work.

Don't Make Me Come to Vegas/ I Can't See New York

Alas, I had to come back sometime. But visiting New York after so long (it'd been 8 years), made me more homesick for it than ever. Especially after spending all weekend with Hina, and it being just like we'd never been apart, much less for 19 years.

The comparisons would be patently unfair. There's no city like New York. But we also visited some places on Long Island, our old stomping grounds, as well as Hina's current home in Westchester and her brother's home in Rockland County. Places I'd never been, people I'd never met, but all as familiar and comfortable as can be. Especially our visit to Citi Field, the new home of the Mets. In Vegas, everything is new. They tear down old buildings and put up new ones all the time. In New York, this is not so common. Of course the skyline has changed, due to circumstances beyond the control of the City and its residents. Two buildings missing. A glaring void.

Perhaps two new baseball stadiums mean next to nothing in that context. But to me, they show the resilience of the city and its inhabitants. There is still much to celebrate. And Citi Field is a celebratory place. A rotunda is named for the great Jackie Robinson, who was the first black player in the major leagues. He played for the Brooklyn Dodgers, one of the Mets' two precursors. But his legacy is carried through, new teams, new eras, and new buildings. His words, "A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives," are emblazoned around the rotunda's half circumference.



And it's true of course. We all measure our lives by the relationships we have with others. Some of those relationships being so formative to our identity, despite the short time they may have lasted. I was glad when Hina found me. I was glad to know how she was doing, that she was having a good life. But I didn't realize that the bond between us could still be as strong. I had thought there was no getting that back. And I was gladly wrong about that. Hina, and her family too, are just as lovely and funny and generous and all around fantastic as I remembered. And remembering is tricky. The memories we have kept with us all this time are vastly different in some places. Why she would remember about some things and I about others is hard to say. But the essence is the same. She is a dear dear friend of mine, and I hope not to lose her again. I'll do all I can. And perhaps the time that has gone by doesn't matter, and perhaps it means everything. Can we ever really appreciate our friends and loved ones enough?

Though I live in Vegas now (and it's where I should be, with my family), it doesn't make me any less a New Yorker. Seeing the greenery and the bridges across the waters and the traffic and the bustling of Times Square and the quaintness of Long Island with its tiny houses and large yards, and the signs calling out the familiar streets and towns, it made me feel place can be funny, how it just triggers the feelings that come rushing back to you. When at once, you can feel that your foot has touched the earth in this same spot before, but your footprint is a bit larger now, and your imprint a bit fainter because it can't stay as long.

How come it's so hard for some people to even think of leaving home, and so easy for others. A life of moving from place to place has its charms, but its disadvantages too. There's always something to leave behind. Even here in Vegas, a place that is always changing and never stays still. When I leave here one day, a bit of me will remain. All I can do is hold on to those people and places and experiences and memories as tightly as I can. And if I do let some of them slip, because all of us do without realizing, I can consider myself lucky if I get them back again. Like I do now.

Precious Things

I’ve been thinking about this issue for a while. But I didn’t quite know how to file it. Is it about art or commerce? Is it about relationships or lack thereof? Is it about money, health, or self-esteem? Is it trivial or fanciful?

I’m not sure. But I’ll start from where I left off. It was Barbara who made me consider it most recently. Whether it meant I was shallow. That first night I met her, she was saying something down at Paddy’s about how women who walk around with designer handbags are the worst kind of people because they care about status, or showing off wealth, or pretending to be something they are not, or whichever of the usual stereotypes people like to assign to people according to this one random criteria. I tucked my Marc by Marc Jacobs messenger bag under my hoodie on a chair. It was already nerve wracking enough being there with them all. Much less inadvertently getting in the way of a drunken tirade. And besides, she didn’t know me. The fact that I carried a particular accessory didn’t make me despicable any more than it made me superior. I resolved not to make mention of my most self-indulgent of hobbies, in Barbara’s or any one else’s presence.

It never came up again, though not for a good reason. By the end of that year, Barbara was gone. And I knew so little about her, just as she did about me. In March I attended a show and performance of some of her work, paintings and plays mostly, hosted in the place where Barbara had lived. When I stepped into the place, I couldn’t help but notice its condition. Was it even fit for habitation? It was definitely not a place you lived if you were worried about security. It was definitely not a place to keep family heirlooms or anything of value. Or perhaps I should say any “thing.” This was not a place of things, it was a place of ideas and expression and love and spirit and feeling and all those things that really weren’t things at all. And suddenly I felt a twinge of envy. If only I could live like that, free from attachment to things, fulfilled entirely from the inside.

It was sort of a communal place, but I don’t think it was devoid of personal spaces or places to keep personal things. I’m sure there were many things of sentimental value tucked away in corners or on tables next to the bed. But it definitely wasn’t like my house. I share a house with 4 other members of my family now, but for many years, I lived alone. And either way, I had the same arrangement. A highly organized collection of things, my things in my space, in fact it was my things that defined my space.

I can see them now from where I sit writing this. Neat shelves of books, and action figures, and toy cars; Tidy closet full of clothes and accessories, a desk full of assorted useful, or potentially useful items. Things I needed, need now, or might need in the future. Things and Needs. The two go together. It’s basic really. All people need things like food, shelter and clothes. After that, need is relative. That’s why it’s tricky to even use the word need for some things.

One might say that many of the economic troubles in the world today have been caused by the fact that most people believed they needed things they didn’t.

I don’t pretend to be any different. I would feel lost without the computer that I’m typing this on right now. Years ago it was unheard of to have a computer in a private home. And in this house we have several, including three in this room alone.

When you can’t afford to buy the things you need, there are hopefully social services willing and able to help you. There are food pantries and soup kitchens and goodwill collections and shelters for those most basic of needs. But beyond that, you have to earn the things you feel you need, or those you want.

I worked until I saved up enough money to buy this computer. I was happy when I got it because I paid for it in cash. I wasn’t overextending myself. I made due with my old computer until I could afford this one. But I haven’t always operated that way. I am no stranger to the world of poorly managed credit. I’ve made mistakes and purchased things I couldn’t afford. I worked to make it right as much as I could. I’ve resolved to be smarter about it in the future. Sure.

The book series and the film “Confessions of a Shopaholic” tell the story of Rebecca Bloomwood, a woman with these common and relatable problems. She shopped herself underwater. She bought so many things she couldn’t afford and barely had room for, and it ruined her relationships as well as her credit rating. Sophie Kinsella, the author of the books and Isla Fisher, the actress who played Rebecca, played it for laughs. It is funny watching someone go so out of control. But at the same time, there were serious issues in the background. Her parents scrimped and saved their every penny. Coming from a background like that can teach you to be frugal, or how to practice moderation, but in Rebecca’s case it made her feel like she was trapped. She felt she needed to spend, needed to acquire things to make herself feel self-sufficient or whatever it was she needed to feel. And it was a humorous romp seeing all the trouble she got into, and there was a heartwarming ending as she learned her lesson, and found a guy who loved her for herself despite her flaws. Harmless, chick flick fun. Except, I cried. I identified with Rebecca in so many ways. I also felt relief in areas where I didn’t relate to her. I am not an impulse shopper. I don’t see things and have to buy them immediately. I’m more of a planner. I research, I calculate, I evaluate risk. I go back and look several times before buying. Just to make sure it’s really what I want. These days I rarely buy things on credit, making sure I have the money and that I can still pay my bills and live up to my responsibilities. But yes, I have spent a lot of money. Money perhaps I could have used to buy a house, or save for a rainy day, of which there have been quite a few in recent years. Do I need everything I’ve bought? No, of course not.

I bought a car I loved that cost more than basic transportation. But it was in no way impulsive. I’m still driving it and still paying for it and I’ve never lost an ounce of sleep over my choice. The intangibles, experiences I’ve had, people I’ve met through owning the car, have no quantifiable value, but are priceless to me.

And that’s how I look at most things. Things serve a purpose. Things have intrinsic value. They have assigned value. I tried explaining this to Ralph one night when we were down at First Friday. He was telling me how he and Kate were not picky about having real jewelry aside from wedding rings, which have their sentimental value, etc. And I said, sure, I’m not a big jewelry person either. But there are people who get great pleasure from a nicely crafted piece of jewelry. It’s art and to them is worth the price they may pay. The higher quality, more expensive the materials, the longer the piece will last and hold its value. That’s the theory.

It works with pretty much everything. Ralph collects original comic art. It’s intrinsic value, the cost of paper and ink, are just a fraction of the assigned value. Ralph, and Kate too, have built their lives around comic art. It is their great passion in life. The pieces that line the walls of their home and of Ralph’s store are not just things. They are relative needs. They are nourishment for the soul. They bring real happiness.

This was actually what I tried to explain to him, planning to work up to my own examples. Handbags are art too, you know. They are designed and crafted of fine materials and they serve a purpose. They bring real happiness to the collector and the aficionado. They often cost much more than basic transportation for your wallet and keys. In a way they are a microcosm of personal space.

Feeling the need to justify my collection is not new. And if I believed my theory so thoroughly, then why must I continually convince myself and others? It’s because in the back of my mind, I know my relative needs have expanded perhaps more than they should have. As much as I love handbags, a few nice bags would probably be enough. I could sell the rest and maybe feed a few African villages for a time.

But so can lots of other people. How much are we to reasonably allow ourselves? What is the acceptable level of self-indulgence? When I was a member of the LDS church there were many families of great wealth. They and their kids had nice clothes and cars and lived in big houses. They paid their tithing, 10% of their earnings, so they fulfilled the literal counsel of the church. But does that let them off the hook to do what they like with the rest? What of the rest of us, who can’t seem to afford such a regular tithe, but will still treat ourselves every now and then? We all deserve a little bit of extra comfort when we can afford it don't we?

But are those relative needs and the sense of entitlement we have towards them making us richer or poorer? In the current economic climate, I think we’re all feeling a bit guilty. No one is immune. And our capitalistic system is based on the fact that businesses create goods and services that people want. If that weren’t the case, there would just be farmers producing food, some basic textile mills for basic clothing production, and basic home building for shelters.

But hang on; we also need education. So there have to be educated people, and materials used to educate. Part of education is knowledge of art. If education is a necessity, and art is worthy of being a topic of education, then we must need art. We need art because it makes life better. And if art can make life better, so can other forms of nourishment. Ideas, expression, spirituality, love and other feelings, all can be needs. The needs Barbara and her friends had in their house and fulfilled with a lot fewer things than I have. Things can also supplement the same kinds of needs that are separate from “things”. A washing machine is a thing that aids in the care of a basic need, clothing. So is a washing machine a necessity? Well, it makes washing clothes easier, leaving more time available to attend to other needs, like family relationships, adding to quality of life. Because time is one of those things that we can never create more of. But we can get the most out of time by using some things. And making the most of our time is what life is. Life is taking the time we have and doing the best we can with it according to our capabilities and our best judgment.

And round and round we go, because everyone has his or her own best judgment. So all these things I buy, because I want them/or need them, I’m not sure which, because they serve a purpose, make my life better, keep me happy, or make me feel whatever I need to feel, will be there in greater or lesser numbers than some other people have, life is not fair, nor are all things equal. And is that okay? I think it has to be. Asceticism is right for some, and charity is a good thing, and obviously some needs are more pressing than others.

So I have an ever-expanding collection of nice handbags. I collect action figures, and books and many other sorts of things. I love my car and I attach great sentimentality to certain pieces of clothing or shoes. Things can hold memories. They are vessels really, places to keep your stuff, whether it be physical objects or bits of psyche. And we all have a little bit of each.

There is more to be said, an ongoing argument in the culture, economy, arts, morality or religion and I have no neat tidy ending. The dark side was portrayed artfully by Tolkien, in how the ring took over Gollum, it became his "precious", his reason for being; how easily it was for anyone to fall under its spell if they weren't careful. The ring itself was a thing, it represented power, and indeed had power itself. Fortunately there aren't objects like that around in our everyday lives. I think the point is that power should not come through things. Things should not give power. People with things should not consider themselves more powerful than those without. Your things are not who you are, but they may just remind people of you.