Just Asking a Question

     I was sitting in bed the other night reading Disgrace by J. M. Coetzee, the 1999 Booker-prize-winning novel about a South African "communications" professor who leads a life that's pretty empty of meaning ... and pays a heavy price for it. There must have been something Coetzee wrote that triggered my curiosity.

     Whatever it was, it made me look up from my book, turn to B and ask, "So tell me what you think. If we went to sleep tonight and woke up 50 years from now, would we find that the country is better off than it is now, or worse off?

     She thought for a moment, then said ...

     Well, what do you think? Will all our problems be solved, or will we have a lot of the same problems, plus a bunch of new ones?

     B is not a cynic; she has a relatively sunny personality; she is not a negative thinker. But it didn't take her long to answer: "Worse off."

     I didn't say anything. I just went back to reading my book, and then fell asleep. But her response disturbed me. I admit I do not go around from day to day thinking deep thoughts, or worrying about the future. But I guess I just assume that we will solve the issues around global warming, energy and the environment. I believe that 50 years from now ISIS will be a history trivia question, that most people will be living longer and better lives. Am I being naive?

Seasons Greetings

    We are spending Christmas with B's family in Pennsylvania. We're staying at a bed & breakfast that is decorated wonderfully for the holidays.

    











     Our three days will be filled with eating, catching up, eating, exchanging presents, eating, listening to B's brother-in-law sing in a concert . . . and more eating.

     May your holiday bring you happiness, peace and togetherness.

A Christmas Miracle

     As I reported in Weekend in New England, I lost my camera last week when we stopped off at a Christmas tree farm to cut our own tree. At some point while I was crawling around on the ground, first inspecting and then cutting a tree, my camera must have fallen out of the pocket of my coat.

     I discovered it was missing when we stopped for a cup of hot cider. I rummaged through all my pockets. B checked her pockets, just in case I somehow gave it to her for safekeeping. We trudged back up the hill and searched through the trees, brushed over the ground, peered along the path. All to no avail.

     It was a long shot anyway. You couldn't expect to find your camera that you dropped "somewhere" up on a hill crowded with Christmas trees and a couple of hundred would-be lumberjacks. Yes, I left my name and number at the office, just in case, but I knew it was nothing but a desperate move.

Then ...

     Unfortunately, this is nothing new to me. In the summer of 2014 I lost another camera while we were vacationing on Cape Cod. But that time I was lucky. A few weeks later, as I reported in Look What I Found! I brought our car in for a wash, and the guys found the camera . . . somewhere amidst the cracks and crevices of the car.

     And so to the "Christmas miracle." The day before yesterday our telephone rang. (Yes, we still have a land line.) It was a woman from the Christmas tree farm. Someone had turned in a camera. Was it mine?

     "A Canon Powershot?" I asked.

     "Yes, that's right."

And now

     "The last photos on the camera would be of some of your Christmas trees."

     "You've got it," the woman replied. "I can't mail it to you, but you can come by and pick it up anytime. We're open every day."

     And so yesterday B and I drove up to the Christmas tree farm, picked up my camera, drank another cup of cider, and stopped at the mall on the way home. We were in a very generous mood and so we bought lots of presents. (Besides, this year at least, everything is on sale.) We wanted to pass on our good fortune to our loved ones.

    

I am NOT Bald!

     We have a running controversy in our household. For some strange reason, B has developed this crazy theory -- based on false assumptions, unsubstantiated observations and non-peer-reviewed research -- that I am getting bald.

     I mean, it's just so obvious that she's wrong. I look in the mirror and what do I see? Hair! And if I look in the mirror, quickly, right after I get out of the shower and it's still wet, the hair doesn't even look all that gray. In fact, it looks pretty dark.

     Okay, after my hair gets dry, I'll admit, it's pretty gray. Even white. It's hard to tell. So let's just call it . . . silver.

     But there's still plenty of it, at least when I look at it from the front.

     There is one thing that puzzles me though. My forehead is bigger than it used to be. I figure it must be an optical illusion.

     When I went to the dermatologist last week, I noticed a brochure about frown marks. The cover of the brochure showed three women, one with mild frown marks, another with moderate frown marks, and still another with severe frown marks. Well, as soon as I saw that I had to inspect myself in the mirror. And I noticed, I don't have any frown marks at all! Instead, I have horizontal lines going across my face, right above my eyebrows. Which, obviously, make my forehead look higher than it did before.

     Nevertheless, B still insists that I'm going bald. And aside from the fact that she's obviously wrong -- delusional I would say -- what really bothers me about the situation is that she seems to derive some pleasure from her perception that I'm losing my hair.

     Now, like I said, I am not losing any hair. But just suppose I was -- I know it happens to some men. Why would that make her smile? Why would that make her laugh? I just don't get it. She thinks it's funny when we go outdoors in the summer, and she insists on rubbing suntan lotion over the top of my head. I mean, why is she doing that? It makes my hair all greasy. And, what? Does she think my hair is going to get sunburned?

     It's true that the sun can bleach your hair. I guess that's the real reason why my hair is turning lighter in color. Which means . . . I'm not going gray, I'm just sun-bleached.

     Anyway, in a recent post I described how I have gone to the doctor way too many times this year. And, now I'm beginning to think it's because doctors don't know what they're doing. As I said, I recently went to the dermatologist, for a growth on my back which he took care of, no problem. But then, toward the end of the session, he was standing behind me when he gently pulled my head back, saying he wanted to check my scalp while he was at it.

     What, is this guy some kind of phrenologist? I wondered. Feeling my head to see if I'm a criminal, or to diagnose some mental malfunction because I have a bump here or a dent there? I shifted my eyes up, trying to see what he was doing. "What do you need to look at my head for?" I challenged.

     "Not to worry," he said. "I'm just checking your bald spot."
   

Searching for Santa

     I don't know how many of you still believe in Santa Claus. I know I do. And it seems like a lot of baby boomers are . . . well, at least they're open to the possibility that he really exists.

     Why else would I be looking out my window as a I sit here and see a statue of Santa Claus standing in my neighbor's lawn across the street? My other neighbor, three houses down, also has a figure of Santa on the front lawn, along with his companion Mrs. Claus. I can't say where in the Scriptures it says that Santa Claus is married. But knowing what I know about men and women, I honestly don't think Santa Claus could have come up with the idea of Christmas all by himself.

     With that in mind, I have greetings to you from a baby boomer in the Arctic Circle. Meryl Baer of Six Decades and Counting doesn't explicitly say that she is searching for Santa Claus as she continues her sea journey along the Norwegian coast. But she does report that one unexpected addition to her itinerary included the opportunity to experience Norwegian socialized medicine. She describes the medical interlude and life aboard ship in Traveling Inside the Arctic Circle. And then, if you want to find out about how they treat border crossings in the north country, try her latest at I Can See Russia from My Bus Window!
 
     P. S. If anyone is looking for a Christmas gift for "the hub," perhaps we've got a hint here: a new pair of socks.

     Blogger Linda Myers of Thoughts from a Bag Lady in Waiting also has Christmas on her mind. Is she sending a letter to Santa? No, not exactly. Instead she writes her Holiday Letter from Tucson, in which she reflects on family, gardening, playgrounds and traveling. I don't know about you, but all those things would rate high on my Christmas list. 

      Meanwhile, blogger Laura Lee Carter sometimes thinks that Americans are the worst at doing nothing. We feel guilty if we're not producing something at all times. So she takes a lesson from the Italians in The Sweetness of Doing Nothing involving happiness, peace on earth, simplicity in our lives, and the joy of children singing  Her inner quietude might make us all yearn for the rural life amid the snowbound high country of Colorado.

     Rita Robison of the Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide offers no less than four posts focused on Christmas, warning us of hazards that consumers should look out for during the holidays and offering tips on gift cards and free shipping. And while I do not know what the consumer journalist is doing right now, today, I'm betting she's made a trip to the North Pole to test out the safety ratings of all of Santa's gifts and toys.

     Another baby boomer setting off on a journey is Kathy Gottberg of SmartLiving365, who clearly believes in Santa Claus and his folksy wisdom. How else could she do a post called 8 Smart Life Lessons from Santa?

     I'm not exactly sure where she's headed -- if you were searching for Santa, would you tell anyone exactly where you were going? -- but while she is gone she has invited a few of her friends to submit guest posts on her blog. This week there happens to be a very perspicacious post called "How to Age Gracefully" which, I hear, comes from a handsome young man who recently revealed that he lost his camera and has a wider than usual, but perfectly suitable bile duct. 

     Am I talking about Santa? Hmmm, you'll just have to sleigh over to SmartLiving365 to find out.