December Days--Fragments, Glimpses and Pieces

Talking with old friends this week, I touched on some things I did on December days growing up in Chicago.  Usually a good December day in Chicago included 1) a freshly fallen snow, 2) a few streets with a smooth hard-packed layer of that snow and 3) some number of unsuspecting drivers crawling along those streets at a snail’s pace.  As they drove past, we’d grab the bumper and “skitch” (ski on our feet?) behind the car for as long as we could hold on.  If we collected anything, it was snowballs for throwing at our friends.  By their nature, snowballs perish and are gone with the wind and a little melting by the sun.  Oh, those days could be memorable. 

My days these days are nothing like them, but special in their own way.  A walk at the beach today quickly became a shell hunt. It was one of those times; a retreating tide, an especially calm day, lots of bright sunshine.   I have no idea which condition, if any, contributes to it, but the sand was peppered with shells.  We have a thing for the shells of the olive snail (a vastly different snail from the ones we hunted in Chicago).  The olive is the state shell of South Carolina, but we find them only rarely.  Until today, I was the only one in the family who had found an olive shell in the past seven years.  Today I found the first shell, but Sheila found three more, keeping two.  That made this a pretty good December day at the beach.  I suppose that technically these are shell fragments, some just seem to have held more of their original components as they were discarded by their inhabitants.  Olive shells come from the olive snail, a predatory mollusk (I knew you wanted to know).   They are oval, shiny and colorful, thus, they are  popular with collectors and jewelry makers--which is probably why we don't find them often, they are being picked up by early risers.   

Common as they are in the local waters, actually seeing a dolphin happens to me all too infrequently.  Just covering another base, I caught a glimpse of a dolphin, feeding close to shore, followed by a handful of pelicans diving for (probably the same) fish.  I have no idea how much fish a pelican eats per day, but I know it takes seventy-five pounds of fish to feed a dolphin each day.  My theory as to why I rarely see them at the beach--they probably need to look at places with less flesh and more fish.  What swims along our shore would not be all that tasty for a dolphin.  But still, it's a good day in December when you see a dolphin, if only for a moment.     

Another thing that we used to take for granted on our beach was a steady supply of sand dollars.  However, we were quickly educated in this regard.   Sand dollars that wash up on our shore are most often still alive, and, therefore, should be returned to the sea.  Only on a rare day do you find a sand dollar that is really dead.  So, today, of course, we found one white from the sun and completely devoid of soft tissue, thus available for us to add to our collected booty for the day.  It was missing a piece, not unlike all the shells we picked up along the way.  We aren't collectors, but we keep a few in a bowl with sand to show to visitors.  These pieces tell them some of the ocean's story.  So these pieces of shells and sand dollars came home with us, more signs of a good day at the beach.  It all adds up to a fine day in December I never imagined as I grew up.        

A Word From The Word Police

My spouse and I were having a brief conversation yesterday about a letter we received (enclosed in a Christmas card).  The letter-in-a-card came from a former neighbor of ours, who inserted the letter to mark the occasion of his decision to discontinue their practice of sending annual Christmas greetings in a card.  He made the obligatory comment about donating any savings to the charity of his choice.  Big deal, I guess.  We really haven't sent Christmas cards to speak of in many years.  This couple has been an exception.  As we have for the past ten years, we had mailed them a card last Friday.  We have always felt sort of obligated to send one to them since they began sending one to us each year after they moved away.  My wife passed me the letter without comment to see how I might react.  I didn't.  She couldn't stand it, so she asked me what I thought.  I observed that when they lived across the street, we didn't exchange cards, but did have them over for a Christmas drink now and then.   We nattered back and forth about who used to write the cards and who had written this one, and moved on to other things.  

A short time later, she returned and said the tone of the letter was sort of curmudgeony to her.  I immediately pointed out that "curmudgeony" was not a word at all.  Someone has to police word use around here.  

She gave me the usual roll of the eyeballs and waited for a response that was more on point.  I pointed out that in this season, she might ought to have said his tone was Scroogeish.  She did not even rise to the bait, but instead chose to weigh my response to see if she might locate some actual meaningful acknowledgement of her point.  Nodding her head, she noted that the Scrooge reference seemed more apt, in light of the fact that he had made it a point to note he would be donating any savings "to the charity of his choice."  

It seemed to me he had borrowed that phrase from somewhere, in light of the simple fact that he should already know which charity is the charity of his choice, wouldn't you think?  My wife believes he is euphemistically saying he will keep the savings for himself (that being his favorite charity).  I don't care.  We did wonder about whether it was the spirit of Scrooge or our former neighbor's turning into a curmudgeon that had brought this on.  His wife usually sent the cards, and it was probably just a coincidence  that the first year he seemed to have been given the assignment of sending the cards would also be their last.  I found myself wishing we knew her birthday, so we could start sending her a birthday card just for the fun of it.  

But I really wanted to talk about words and their evolution.  In some small way, we felt as if we had contributed to creating a word a few years back when my wife observed while we were driving somewhere (and now seemed likely to be late) that she really hadn't expected it to be so trafficky at that hour.  The friends who were staying with us agreed with me during the ride that "trafficky" was not a word at all.  

However, not wanting to be seen as siding with me completely, one of the passengers (yes, it was the girl passenger) later took the position that it should be and proceeded to use it at every opportunity during her stay.  I felt like I had to just take a look when Merriam-Webster published its list of new words the next year (you know, the ones that had come into use so regularly that they were being added to the dictionary).  We're still looking.  "Trafficky" has not made the list.  

Now, the competition is between "curmudgeony" and "scroogeish" (yes, the upper case letter is optional).  If the vote takes place in the last two weeks of the year, I think I have a better chance.  

P.S., Being fair-minded, I just added both "curmudgeony" and "scroogeish" to my internal dictionary in Word.  I still won't add "trafficky."  You have to draw a line somewhere.

         

Fearless and Tentative

A friend asked me recently if I was being tentative, and it set me to thinking.  One of the tangents I went down was which meaning of tentative were we talking about--the sense in which things are neither certain or fixed, but instead are just not fully worked out?  Or, were we talking about the one where you are hesitant and acting without confidence? For clarity's sake, let's call-- 

• "tentative-not fixed or fully worked out"- tentative number 1, and 
• "tentative-hesitant, lacking confidence"- tentative number 2.  

Statements and actions that are tentative in the here's-what-I-am-thinking-now-but-it's-not-fully-worked-out sense require a certain willingness to lean into a subject and face the uncertainties-- a sort of fearlessness about life.  "I don't know for certain, but here is what i think, how about you?"  A conversation that proceeds this way may run the risk of your having to accept that there is indeed another way to look at something (you may not have exclusive hold on the right answer or position!), or even being persuaded to look at the situation differently (change your mind?!?).  This is tentative 1.  

If, on the other hand, you have spent all your time building up this ego that has fixed opinions, likes, dislikes, etc. and have become attached to it, you might feel tentative as in uncomfortable when contradicted--or even fearful if you have allowed the matter to assume some great importance to you and your identity.  Being wrong can be a threat to your ego.  You might even have your ego wrapped up in the righteousness of your opinion.  This might make you a little hesitant, even tentative (as in tentative 2).  

Living that way, you withdraw from what you fear.  Even your hopes are just re-worded fears (e.g., I hope that is the good news we are expecting is another way of saying I hope it's not the bad news we were afraid of).  But I kind of like the tentative number 1.  I can accept and seek to understand others, have compassion for them and try to make life better for all of us with this form of tentative, I think. And I don't have to be afraid--if there's change, it will work out, it always has.

In a sense, being tentative number 1 requires the ability to detach and let go a little.  Don't get so convinced about what you think or have said or decided about some aspect of life.  After all, life is change, and impermanence is an overarching part of our existence, even if we try to believe otherwise.  We change, our lives and families change, our bodies, our minds, our very cell structure changes.  If we look closely, nothing is permanently permanent, is it? 

Look at us--what we see as our form or body changes constantly (can you say aging?), what we feel emotionally changes overnight, our senses play tricks on us--sometimes fooling us. Don't get me started on our thoughts, they are constantly flying around in our heads like chattering monkeys.  If experience tells us all of this about what goes on around us, what do you make of this whole idea of the inside-you, your consciousness?  Tentative number 1 is sounding like it fits reality, isn't it?  Think about it, I mean really think

In our own heads, we are probably a bit tentative number 2 from time to time, aren't we?  Not absolutely certain of this or that just yet.  It often takes a lifetime of building to develop the certainty we sometimes claim.  Over years of experience, we have attached ourselves to some fixed ideas and convinced ourselves, maybe, that we have a firm grip on what's right.  Hmmm, then why are there so many different opinions in this world?  They can't all be right, can they?  If that is so, then do you really believe that, by some happy circumstance, yours just happen to be the right ones?  It seems more sensible to be tentative number 1 about life. It's easier to face life and live it this way.  Don't assume the burden of being right all the time, you will learn to fear being wrong about things and it might make you hesitant (tentative 2) about life.

Oh sure, many rightfully believe in a world of absolute truths that are articles of their faith--the existence of God, of heaven and, perhaps, even hell.  I mean no disrespect to those beliefs, but that is what they are--they are beliefs.  It takes a leap of faith to accept those ideas.  But they arise, not out of our earthly experience, but out of some external transmission through a prophet, or a Messiah, who is at once human and divine, or some other prophet or being inspired by an external force.  

When we examine our earthly experience, we see change, change, change...  So, my sense is that expressing opinions or in the broader sense, living our lives, is something we might want to engage in tentatively.  Accept the fact of change and uncertainty, but lean into it and live life!  Do it as brilliantly, as fearlessly as you can.  

If you don't, you are bound to wind up living the life of tentative number 2, hesitating, never fully committing to anything, but clinging fast to what you think is right--what your ego is convinced of.  

Four Hundred and Three Words

I have to admit to a certain infatuation with words.  You have probably already deduced[1] that, of course.  Why else would I write this little collection of essays?  I have a friend who is a much better writer than I and who has a far better vocabulary than anyone I know.  She uses words I know the meaning of, but am never able to bring to mind when I need them, and she uses words that send me to a dictionary as well.  Even occasionally using words she tosses out with ease will lead me to an ebullience[2] about my vocabulary that most people wouldn’t share.  She once wrote me a nice note entitled “Words” in which she expressed her chagrin[3] over being briefly at a loss for words to describe something, but that’s another story. 

The point is I like words.  The reason all of this is on my mind is that I ran across a book called The Vocabulary of Success today on the bargain-priced table at Barnes & Noble.  The subtitle is actually what caught my eye—“403 Words That Smart People Should Know.”  Its author is a denizen[4] of a law firm, which surprises me—in most of the lawyers I have run across there was a paucity[5] of clear speech, which only piqued[6] my interest further.  It turns out the author teaches lawyers how to write effectively. 

I decided to share some of these gems in the interest of improving your prospects for becoming “smart.”  I have inserted many of the chosen words, footnoting them with definitions.  I am hoping this makes up for the amount ofbrain power you will probably have lost by the time you finish reading this piece

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[1] Number 79, to derive or draw as a conclusion by reasoning from given premises

[2] Number 105, showing enthusiasm or wxhiliration of feeling

[3] Number 47, to vex by disappointment

[4] Number 86, inhabitant or resident; one who frequently inhabits a place

[5] Number 248, smallness of quantity; scarcity

[6] Number 261, to excite interest of curiosity in

But, why are there 403 words exactly?  Surely there is a myriad[1] of words that would qualify.  Sadly, he offers no explanation for that, except to explain that he started with 5,000.  Then, he has the effrontery[2] to proffer[3] his list without deigning[4] to provide his rationale for us to ruminate[5] about. 

Some words make the list for reasons of correcting obviously lawyerly errors.  For example, lawyers often misuse the word “therefor,” therefore, our author included it and “therefore” in his list, while explaining the reason therefor[6].   The author aims to prevent misuse of the regular adverb in place of the conjunctive adverb, which is, of course, a solecism[7].

Others fail to make the list for reasons I cannot understand.  Is he trying to hoodwink[8] us when he fails to include any words that begin with “J?”   Surely a lawyer would throw in jurisprudence, or jive or josh.  In all this travail[9] could he not cover the whole alphabet?  He also failed to cover “K.”  No, his list is kaput in my book.  Am I just kvetching?  I think not.  Surely someone could have kibitzed on behalf of “K.”

I will admit that “X” and “Y” might present a challenge, but his inscrutable[10] deliberations shed no light on why “smart 

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[1] Number 217, a vast indefinite number

[2] Number 110, unblushing impudence or boldness

[3] Number 282, to offer to another for acceptance

[4] Number 81, to deem worthy of notice or account

[5] Number 329, to chew over again, to  ponder

[6] Number 367, both words—the conjunctive adverb and the regular

[7]  Number 341, a nonstandard or ungrammatical usage

[8] Number  163, to deceive, trick, cheat, swindle

[9]  Number 372, hard or agonizing labor

[10]  Number 189, incapable of analyzed, investigated or scrutinized

people” need not be cognizant of words that begin with “X,” or “Y.”

  

Can “smart people” really have insight without knowing the yin and yang of existence?  Or is he merely xenophobic, fearing the ideas because they originated in another culture?  (OK, I have now covered all four of the missing letters, we all know he could have if I can)

In the end, lists like this will never make it into our zeitgeist[1], hence its position on the bargain books table, marked down by seventy-five percent.

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[1]  Number 403, the spirit of the times

Sunday--Doing Nothing or Being No Place.

Sundays often present some options that the rest of the week does not.  What are we doing, where are we going?  Despite my best efforts to leave Sunday wide open, my better half will start asking the day before.  On a pretty day, do I really want to commit to driving someplace?  Driving is driving, especially if you are not going anyplace new.  Our outside temperature will be over seventy degrees, with plenty of sunshine.  We could stay at home, ride our bikes or walk on the beach, although that actually will be nothing new either.  Trying hard not to be complacent about activities that aren't available to everyone in December, but it's looking like our most likely alternative is going nowhere.  I say being not very active helps us contemplate the here and now, which is all we have anyway.  

Another common Sunday activity--watching football on TV--is pleasant enough, but we'd have to go to a sports bar somewhere to see the only team playing today that I want to see (Da Bears).  Last week we met a couple visiting for a few weeks from NY at the bar while we watched a game and they picked up carryout ribs (from the best barbecue place in Hilton Head).    Chances are we would not see them again anyway.  Getting caught up in football can be fun, if your team is succeeding.  But, how you feel about it whether they succeed or not is up to you.  Sometimes it's just fun to be in a group watching.

We could sit at the beach and read, but that's more of a summer activity--the breeze this time of year makes reading a challenge--blowing the pages around fiercely.  As I think about it, I am behind in my reading.  I have no less than five I am in the process of reading.  I can do that with non-fiction books.  TIme to finish one, wouldn't you say?  I don't know, keeping them all going at once, you cannot help but see their interconnectedness--in part because you don't remember where the earlier thought you are connecting came from when you have that many books going.  But, interconnectedness is another facet of life I like to revisit on Sundays.

Is this what depression is like?  You look at all the possibilities, then do nothing?  It seems like I read every day.  I have thought for some time that Sundays are for doing nothing much--if that's what pleases you.  Doesn't sound depressing to me.  I am however married to someone who wants to be "doing something" every day.  It's probably good for me, as I might otherwise retreat into books and football.  Together we achieve a kind of balance, doing nothing or going somewhere, being no place or doing something.  Today, I'll try to do and go while being no place in particular.  Or will I go someplace and do nothing special?  The trick is to focus on the rest of the world and not on your own self, which is mostly a figment of your mind and imagination.  Either way, it's a Sunday mindset.  I'd better go...