Mortal Moment

In a Roman triumphal procession, a slave rode the same chariot as the honored general, constantly whispering “remember, you are mortal”. Useful tradition. Perhaps we should reestablish it for our politicians and plutocrats. Death is still the great leveler .

I have both elements residing inside me. Logic is my general, domineering all it surveys, proud and glorious and quite imperiously smug. My body, on the other hand, plays the part of the slave and constantly reminds me of my true condition. Sometimes, like those slaves of old, it rises up in revolt to make me take notice .

For example, yesterday I had a couple of small bowls of potato chips for lunch, breaking my normal diet. The grease and salt combined for excruciating pain in the afternoon. These days, If I overdo a bit too much, I will strain joints, pull muscles, ache, lapse into a tired semi-consciousness.

Logic plans brilliant maneuvers and says “why not?” Body has the tragic answer .

I’ve learned to accept it all as part of the messaging of my universe. An easy (or relatively easy) way to control dangerous hubris. Even painful reminders can sometimes help put other good things into perspective .

The battle of the potato chips is over. Perhaps not a victory, but a good lesson in strategic dreaming .

Instant Coffee

I have never been a food snob. In my ancient commune days, I successfully resisted diets of buckwheat groats and miso. Having grown our food as a child, I don’t believe in the fantastic flavor of heritage vegetables. I don’t subscribe to organic gardening because I’ve seen what bugs can do to a crop. And I tend to think antibiotics in things like beef are probably good for me

Part of it, I suppose, is my upbringing. Referring to the title, my parents were both world war II veterans. They made “navy coffee” which was a percolated tar kept boiling all week. That remains my reference .

A good deal of it is genetics and age. I’ve never had a remarkable sense of smell or taste, and even that has deteriorated over time. Bitter black coffee is fine because at least I notice a hint of flavor there .

I admit that over time I’ve gone for convenience. I really like the “instant” aspect of instant coffee. No matter what, the fact that I can get caffeine magically in a minute or so at home in a microwave is one of the great miracles of science .

Of course, it’s largely habit. I suppose in this new world I’d be sipping energy drinks, although maybe not because I’ve always hated sugar or sweeteners. Once in a while cream, but I prefer simplicity – coffee as coffee, milk as milk .

I know that’s a dying culture, mostly kept alive by us elders. I just hope it continues for longer than I do .

Mount Ultralympus

The Greeks imagined a pantheon of superheroes who had enormous power, but were fairly dumb. Those gods fought each other over petty annoyances, and let their anger spill onto mortal reality. They were, in fact, a pretty good explanation of how fate works .

Mount Olympus failed to hold up to a vision of heaven ruled by a just Middle Eastern absolute monarch. Everything then could be explained as ineffable divine will, with rewards for the just in the eternity beyond death .

Now we have come full circle. The ultrawealthy are just as powerful a clique as the Olympian gods ever were. Also just as stupid and petty, bickering amongst themselves, scattering mortals into misery as they work out their indulgent irritations. Some are more powerful than others, some true colossi, some mere half breed god/mortals .

To understand the ultrawealthy it is simply necessary to be fluent in ancient Greek mythology. The parallels are quite amazing, and would be amusing if they did not terrify us quite so much. But abuse of power comes with the territory .

Like those Greeks, we know we cannot control the gods. We can only try to placate them. In the good old days it was by offering sacrifices like oxen, today it is an equivalent cutting of taxes .

Like the Olympic gods, the ultra wealthier are having their moment. We shall see if anything arises to replace them .

Bartleby

Melville’s office clerk began to increasingly tell his employer “I would prefer not to”. Eventually he became unemployable. I find myself in a similar frame of mind. Although the “employer” side of my brain is equally horrified .

There are an awful lot of “terrible things” trying to gain our attention each moment. As massive as a dinosaur asteroid, as ultimate as a bioengineered plague. As tiny as residue cellular pesticides. As improbable as effects by electromagnetic environments. Partisans keep screaming I must know about these things! “We must do something !”

“I would prefer not to”. I don’t mind so much learning of people’s fears. They can be entertaining. Perhaps some are true, perhaps fewer have any importance. But I am convinced there is little I can affect. So I let them slide by without impact on my emotions or daily happiness .

It’s an old philosophy, encountered at all times and everywhere. Stoic acceptance and withdrawal. Religious mystics from ancient India to Catholic monks. Sit quietly as the world turns and burns.

And yet – life is magnificent and precious, and what we do can matter locally. Each moment counts in our universe. Not caring or moving at all is death, and early rejection of the gift of life.

That’s my employer mind talking, of course. It is right.

Sometimes.

Global Crossing Redux

Around 2000, I was working in a relatively high-tech company. All my colleagues were poised to get rich. They’d invested in all the upcoming technology stocks. The future would be golden .

Most were internet related. For the cautious, Microsoft was solid but turning into a has-been. Apple was there for the daring. But most dreams centered on the magic rockets like AOL or Yahoo. Speculative dreams pursued the “name territory” like Pets.com (nobody was using search engines so easily remembered names were the wave of the future). Beanie Babies were the bitcoin of those times. So many folks told me they knew their retirement and children’s college were set .

Of course they were partisans of their picks. They did not understand the venture capitalist truth that one must invest in a lot of losers to hope for one massive hit. They knew that they knew .

A lot of IPO issuances were springing up all the time. Ultimately buzz centered on ” Global Crossing” – a fiber optic company. Whispers in the hallway. Clandestine peeks at moments on the company terminals. Advice. Certainty of payoff. How could they miss?

Of course – well – the “dot.com crash”. Most startups vanished as most startups do, carrying their stocks to the bottom like the Titanic. Twenty years later GlobalCcrossing was an okay investment. But most speculators had gone down with the ships .

Oh, I forgot, the past does not predict the future ,,,

Bugs and Features

When I was writing software and something unexpected would result, we’d laughingly claim “it’s not a bug, it’s a feature!” I’ve often applied the same logic to my own life, rather than complaining about things that usually cannot be fixed.

For example, I’ve always been nearsighted. I actually enjoy taking my glasses off to view the world in a different way. Lines and shapes may be blurred, but other things such as colors are richer and I often notice different focal points .

Being short is hardly fun in this culture, but it did keep me out of trouble since I knew I would lose any fight I was in. My genes fit my size well to keep me mostly healthy, and lately it’s been a blessing to be small in cramped spaces like airplane seats. And, often, it is useful to be unnoticed and non-threatening .

The various degradations and pains of advancing age are never any fun, but if they are minor and temporary they do remind me to appreciate whatever remains. Nothing makes one appreciate normal teeth more than a toothache .

Admittedly it is a shallow, pollyannish or Panglossian view of “the best of all possible worlds” But like many philosophies, when it fits it works very well. Why waste time cursing fate, or gnawing outlook with envy? Some ambition is useful, some anger cathartic, some pain unbearable. But for the rest – well I prefer to try to change perspective .

Features, not bugs!

Tick Terror

Lately a litany of ills has people around here huddling inside in fear. Deadly fevers from mosquitoes, flesh eating bacteria in the water, invisible plagues in the air. Ticks with strange and horrible diseases .

The common denominator is that the culprits are tiny or invisible. Also ubiquitous if you are in the wrong area. It’s quite difficult to avoid water at the beach, air on the patio, or grass in the park.

Ticks are my favorite public overreaction. Mosquitoes invisibly come from anywhere and bite you right away, germs are generally thinly dispersed, flesh eating is quite rare. Ticks cannot run, jump, nor fly. They’re quite slow and deliberate, and take a pretty long time to climb to wherever they want, dig in, and begin to feed. Lots of opportunity to find and get rid of them if you look.

But folks imagine them as some miniscule land variant of the great white shark. Stalking the grasslands ready to pounce. Dropping from the sky on the unwary. Cleverly racing up legs to hide under socks or shorts. Evolving to be impervious to insect repellent .

The good news for me is that most park visitors remain on paved road. To them, grass is toxic, woodland trails forbidden. I ignore the signs and check now and then, always when I have finished my hike. No problem. But – well – the trails are lovely and empty for us adventurous types, apparently courting death or worse . I often receive incredulous stares from the crowds on the macadam.

As I often tell my 10-year-old grandson, the great thing to be really truly afraid of here on Long Island is not ticks, mosquitoes, bacteria, or sharks, but cars and the impatient maniacs who drive them.

Equilibrium

Balance and equilibrium are often regarded as synonymous, but I regard balance as more static, equilibrium as dynamic. A rock perched on a pinnacle is balanced. A healthy pond is in equilibrium.

That boulder will not move until something disturbs it. A tightrope walker, on the other hand, maintains equilibrium with constant adjustments or plummets off the wire.

So when we are told to balance our lives, it’s not very useful. Maintaining dynamic social and personal equilibrium is what’s essential. Work, friends, wealth, health, and so – all the usual suspects in constant movement, tension, countertension, and adjustment .

I realize that I’ve exaggerated somewhat. But my point is that whatever one labels it, the condition is fragile and when lost hard to regain. Once that boulder rolls into the valley it would take stupendous and often impossible effort to put it back. As far as a tightrope walker …

We live in a crowded world of homeostasis where we usually take equilibrium for granted. Sometimes that causes us to do rash things with consequences far beyond what we intend with one relatively minor effort. Once equilibrium is destroyed it may never return in the same form. Just review any ongoing ecological or social disaster .

I’m grateful for the massive, seemingly effortless, equilibriums in my own life, and try to be conscious of how fragile they are .

Certainly Flexible

In our teenage years, we become convinced we know everything and are consequently certain we are always right. We may learn more as time goes on, we may change our minds, but we remain just as certain all the time.

Science constantly tries to break this tendency. The worst scientist is one who knows what, how, and why. In many other careers, it is equally important to acquire knowledge, apply it, think out of the box, and flexibly move on to better understanding .

On the other hand, in society and politics, changing one’s mind is a “flip-flop” and a sign of horrible dishonesty. “How can you have deceived me so?” Friends, families, elected representatives are supposed to remain frozen in attitude and belief, as we once thought we knew them .

It’s understandable. After all, the core of a society must be relatively conservative to function at all. We need to believe that lives have fundamental organization. Total chaos is unsustainable .

The only thing worse than an ongoing movement in what we are certain of, is to be frozen at one point until a sudden internal revelation forces us to reject all that we know, start over, and be absolutely certain, once again, that we are right in whatever new belief.

Like most of our leaders .

Aging Sitcom

One of my semi-schizophrenic personalities has always enjoyed viewing my life as an ongoing situational comedy. Sometimes an office nerd, sometimes a “father knows best”, sometimes a secret Van Gogh. Currently, I play the star role as a bumbling senior gradually losing his edge .

Surely it’s helpful to laugh at the minor problems that come with age, rather than raging against the inevitable. Not finding the right word is common with anyone, but frequent as I near eighty. I walk in a room and wonder why I am there. I miss the usual moves in the kitchen. I stumble when I stop paying attention. And I often sit, doing little, not even wanting to do more. All that can only make me smile. Another cute episode .

Fortunately, I’ve been spared real tragedy so far. That will require a different viewpoint, I suppose. Although media long ago learned to twist horror into entertainment . Perhaps my secret selves will be able to do the same .

In the meantime, the laugh track adds spice and softens fear. I regard it as part of the glorious ability to enjoy a constantly changing existence . So I am more forgetful, clumsier, or less ambitious. Hopefully not too dull. Each day, hopefully, to be continued. Not at all ready for the grand finale yet .

Now, exactly where was I? And what was I trying to say?

No matter, chuckle and move along .