Time To Party: Part I

Last weekend, after a long day at the lodge blood drive and only spending a couple of hours at home, I took a short walk through the woods between the houses and met our neighbors for the first time. I wasn’t sure about attending given our schedule that weekend but I am certainly glad that I made the time. I liked our house and the area before I had a chance to meet anyone and now I am even more appreciative of having found our home in this neighborhood. As a bonus, there is only one neighbor that owns a cat which may not seem like a big deal to many but for us it allows us to be more welcoming to our fellow neighbors in our home.

That wasn’t the first time we had met some of the neighbors. A few weeks ago, shortly after we moved into our new home, our next door neighbor rang the doorbell and gave us a wonderful pot of soup and an invitation to their holiday party. I was out at the time but my wife had a very nice conversation with her and the soup was definitely appreciated as it provided us with an additional meal that we didn’t have to prepare that weekend. The invitation was a bit unexpected but a pleasant surprise. Almost immediately, with that single encounter, we felt welcomed in our new neighborhood.

It was interesting learning about all of our neighbors who seemed more eager to meet me than I was them. We are an interesting little collection of people with a variety of backgrounds and a diverse collection of occupations. However, the common thread among all that I spoke to at the party was that each of them wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. And this is coming from a group that included someone who has lived on the same street his entire life (50+ years) to those that used to be the new people on the block having moved in about a year or two ago.

With our son down for the night and my wife doing her best to relax and stay awake at home, I had to cut the evening short and was heading back home about an hour after arriving. It is safe to say that, so long as we get another invitation, we will both be attending the party next year. In the meantime, I am looking forward to getting to know all of our neighbors and making the time to visit each of them. This is something that we have been search for and an aspect of finding our home that we are grateful for and will certainly enjoy.

Look, It’s A Happy Tree!

Today reminded me of those cold winter days from childhood when school is closed an you have free reign of the house. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, I was able to make it to work this morning with little difficulty. It may have been a slow journey with idiots on the road that don’t know how to drive in the snow but those same people can’t drive when the roads are clear so it wasn’t much of a difference.

While I was not able to partake in such lack of activity, the white landscape made me recall such memories. Many of you remember those same mornings watching Bob Barker put some shady moves on his beauties (by the way, happy 90^th Bob) just before ABC news at noon would tell you that Armageddon is upon us and we should all start coming to terms with our life and our G-d. But that was just a fleeting thought from those antsy days. The real entertainment didn’t begin until the afternoon.

When were much younger those afternoon hours were filled with cartoons or Sesame Street or a stroll through Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. A few years later it turned into Gilligan’s Island and Hogan’s Heroes mini marathons with the occasional sojourn with the Addams Family or the Munsters. But, inevitably, there was a time during those school days when there was a show so fascinating that you could watch episode after episode until the sky turned dark.

 

Some of you may not remember but Bob Ross was like snow day crack for those of us of a certain age. For some reason we could watch him paint, yes I said paint, for hours at a time. Happy tree after happy tree we could never understand the appeal but, at the same time, couldn’t take our eyes off of the screen. It all seemed so easy but we didn’t, at least those of us with an absence of artistic ability, know how to do it. We may have tried from time to time but our trees seemed more like a Dali inspired Rorschach test rather than happy.

But, years later, I think I have finally figured out why it was, and to a certain extent still is, so entertaining… it is a legal mellowness. Simply watching this guy for thirty minutes will get you high by association which makes sense because he seems higher than Jim Henson when he created Fraggle Rock during every episode. That is the only explanation for the fact that “happy trees” seeming like a logical description. This might be why the “just say no” campaign was so successful at the time… everyone was watching Bob Ross on PBS and didn’t need it.  

So, if you need to mellow, sit down and relax. Light a scented candle, grab a pile of snacks, and

watch Bob Ross. I can feel my eyes getting blood shot already. Just make sure you don’t have to drive anywhere for at least twelve hours afterward of you might find yourself being one of those idiots on the road that doesn’t know how to drive.   

Mail Day

It’s amazing how fast the mail can build up in the mailbox. Between junk mail, bills, and donation solicitations addressed to someone who has never lived in our apartment it makes you wonder how much money is being wasted everyday by some of these people, companies, and organizations. I’m also surprised at how much can be crammed into our little piece of real estate in the mail room.

The real problem with so much mail is not necessarily the volume, it’s the fact that I no longer look forward to the mail. Remember when you were a kid when it was something special to get a letter in the mail. It didn’t have to be anything particularly special it was just the fact that someone sent something to you because after all at that age you are the center of the universe. It was a time when you felt like you were getting your very own speedy delivery.

But now it is just a mass of wasted paper and pleas for money that I am not willing to hand out even if I had the money to give away. There is the occasional card or letter but that is quickly disappearing and morphing into the empty void that is email. Don’t get me wrong, I like email and I use it constantly throughout my day but sometimes you just need to take the time, sit at a desk, and pull out a pen. There is still something to be said for a signature on a white page.

I miss receiving letters from people. I miss having enough space on my desk to write letters to people. I have always enjoyed the act of writing. Not just the formation of thoughts on a page but the fine motor skills involved in the swift flowing motion of a fountain pen as you watch the lines slowly morph into letters, then words, and finally sentences until the thoughts are fully formed and the ideas are bouncing around the margins. Think about it, when is the last time you wrote a letter?

I like seeing the personality in the handwriting. This is something that is completely lost in the quick glance of a perfectly spaced email. And, in some instances, tone can be lost between the ink on the page and the words on the screen. It’s almost like an automatic cooling of the sentiment occurs as soon as technology is put into play.

I guess this is a long way of saying that I like getting a lot of mail as long as there is a personal touch to the correspondences I receive. Maybe the best way to start doing that would be to stop typing so much in my free time, break out the fountain pen, and stain the good paper currently being segregated in the closet. Who knows, maybe some of you will be getting a letter soon and some of you may even read it before shredding.