We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Adult males rarely want much for Christmas other than the company of family and friends and a glass or two of eggnog, but one material thing they always welcome are fun socks. It takes a serious male to wear fun socks. Trust me. Black socks are to make you appear serious. They do not make you serious.
The reason for black socks is No Sock Sorting. But that is just laziness. Black socks are for mens' job interviews.
OK, let's discuss socks. In our house, we have work-out socks, tennis socks, skiing socks, hiking socks, dress socks (male), yard-work socks, etc. So do you, probably.
Nowadays, fun socks are always great for gals, and for guys they signal that you are confident enough to show some sense of fun.
Loneliness is a tough problem. We live in a world full of all sorts of people, but connecting beyond a superficial level takes a special and complex combination of factors, circumstances, serendipity, and opportunity. Another problem is that we aren't necessarily all that appealing to many people, but we can hope we are appealing to a few people who appeal to us. We all reach out to people who we enjoy, and sometimes it works.
As the article points out, loneliness can spiral into excess neediness, or avoidance, distrust, and isolation. That's not a happy life.
I wish I were smart enough to write for them, pay or no pay. After four of five sentences, I'm done. Except for at work, of course, where I am Bartleby the Scrivener until I will prefer not to be.
You’ll never know exactly what a translator has done. He [or she] reads with maniacal attention to nuance and cultural implication, conscious of all the books that stand behind this one; then sets out to rewrite this impossibly complex thing in his [or her] own language, re-elaborating everything, changing everything in order that it remain the same, or as close as possible to [the translator’s] own experience of the original. In every sentence the most loyal respect must combine with the most resourceful inventiveness. Imagine shifting the Tower of Pisa into downtown Manhattan and convincing everyone it’s in the right place; that’s the scale of the task.
Aren't these two things in life we need to protect the most? Besides the future well-being of family, of course, but that's a want-to, not a need-to.
I protect my public reputation like a demon. Not because of morals so much as because my work and future depends on it. Morals too, I suppose. I have seen all too many people permanently damage their lives with just one error of judgement. Everybody talks...and few are forgiving.
Another reputational issue just has to do with a likable, engaging personality. As far as I can tell, there's not much anybody can do about that. An unpleasant or odd personality style is unfortunate in life.
When it comes to health/fitness/vigor, I can not claim to be a Maggie's paragon in that department. At this point, just an hour daily of no-intensity cardio for the past two months. Have to start somewhere, or not start at all. Flabby muscles are neither appealing nor functional.
I think I missed Columbus Day while I was in Italy. Christoforo Columbo was, of course, from the Republic of Genoa. He spoke Italian and Spanish, and, I'd like to think, Portuguese too since he had a Portuguese mistress.
Anyway, when I think about Columbus I like to remember the details of our sailing cruise (yes, with sails) in 2015 from Lisbon down the coast to Morocco and then out to the Canary Islands where Columbus always loaded up stuff for his trans-Atlantic trips.
Evert time our craft left a harbor (Lisbon, Casablanca, Agadir, Tenerife, Palmas, Gomera, etc, our Captain would blast this Vangelis piece over the ship's speakers, so it is seared - seared - into my memory. After all, this was roughly the route that Columbus took on the beginnings of his trips to the West Indies. We saw his house in the Canaries. Still there.
Met a fellow at a holiday party, and we were talking about travel. He said his travel days were long done and that he had seen enough of the world. He no longer even wants to drive to Vermont unless it's a hunting trip. His wife is headed to Petra with some friends in January, but he refuses to go with them.
I loved his story. (Details altered enough for privacy and happily OKed by the guy)
The captain discusses some of the challenges in landing on a high-altitude airport like Nairobi's. Also interesting to hear about the cargo. I love this stuff. English seems to be the international flight language.
What pilots do. Like ship captains, these guys (or gals) have to have their wits about them. What a cool job.
The very smart and thoughtful Oren Cass discusses his new book,The Once and Future Worker: A Vision for the Renewal of Work in America.
It's a podcast and a transcript. Cass is mostly concerned about the majority of Americans who do not attend college. He believes the policy emphasis on higher ed is misplaced. So do I.
I suggest that everybody have a plan in mind, or on paper, for what to do with money and life if your spouse drops dead, or becomes disabled or unemployed today. I guess that's assuming the spouse has an income, income-producing assets, or plain assets, or that the spouse manages some or all of the family finances.
Things happen out of the blue as I have recently seen, even to the healthiest people. Well, it's guaranteed that they will, sooner or later. It's a very good idea to have a plan, and to not pretend that things will go on like the present forever. It is impossible to make a plan in the midst of personal and financial chaos.
I suppose this is more relevant to gals, because guys begin dropping like flies after age 50 or 60, with accelerating pace each year thereafter. Gals need to know what the assets are, where they are, what the life insurance is, what the social security is, what the bills are, and need to have some idea of what they will do when sudden widowhood strikes. The odds are that it will.
Sometimes it was a Triathlon with biking, but most often just a Biathlon, 7-10 mile run race and a one mile swim race across and back Long Pond in Wellfleet. Last time I did that I almost drowned trying to keep up with my brother, who is a Master Swimmer, a world competitor. We have Bookish-Athletes in my family. And Good Olde Cape Cod. Bob loved it. Heaven for him. We always angled our morning runs through the ancient graveyards...
Adult males rarely want much for Christmas other than the company of family and friends and a glass or two of eggnog, but one material thing they always welcome are fun socks. It takes a serious male to wear fun socks. Trust me. Black socks are to make you appear serious. They do not make you serious.
Met a fellow at a holiday party, and we were talking about travel. He said his travel days were long done and that he had seen enough of the world. He no longer even wants to drive to Vermont unless it's a hunting trip. His wife is headed to
A book: 
