JUST WRITE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (4-11-24)

 

      I'm approaching my nine year anniversary writing for this paper, and it has been an absolute joy, for one of us at least. Maybe you read this column with your morning coffee, and that's how you were able to quit coffee. Maybe you read this article to find an intelligent take on things you hadn't thought of before, only to find that I haven't thought of it either. Maybe you line your parrot's cage with it, and I'd like to think that it gives him a chuckle once in a while. Whatever the reason that you read a newspaper, please keep doing it, because that's where ideas are exchanged. And if you don't like any of my ideas, you can exchange them for credit.

     It's only fitting that I would take to writing, based on my SAT scores in high school. In the math section I scored a 425, which is about the same score you would get if you dipped your cat's paws in #2 pencil shavings and let him stroll around the pages of the test looking for other pencils to knock off the desk as he filled in the answers. My verbal score wasn't that much better, but when I wrote an essay in my college application, I was quickly accepted merely to prevent me from ever doing it again.

    Sometimes people will ask a writer where he gets his inspiration. For me, thinking of inane things is what I would normally do anyway. When I look at the crazy world around me, it doesn't take much effort to make it a little crazier. It might be an obscure reference, or a play on words, or some goofy dialogue. I carry a pad around me, and if I think of something that doesn't make much sense I write it down. If I think of something intellectually advanced I just chalk it up to bad luck, and don't bother to write it down. Other times idea output is directly proportional to alcohol input. 

     Many clever things I come up never make it into this column, and you'll just have to take my word that they were clever. Because writing a humor column is a lot like having an argument with a bully; you always think of something REALLY GREAT to say well after the opportunity to use it has passed. Another fertile time for the germination of ideas is in bed at night. Many creative people have expressed the same thing. An observation might wander into my brain looking for a place where it won't be disturbed, but I don't jot it down since it was SO GOOD I'll be able to think of it tomorrow. Will I remember what it was after I fall asleep? In my dreams.

     I'm an avid reader of novels, and that's inspiring enough. I don't read a lot of science fiction because I'm afraid that it might not be fiction. I like murder mysteries; I read them for my health. My health, you ask? Yes, because I know every possible way you might try to kill me, and trust me, you won't get away with it. But most of all I like characters, people who do and say things that make you want to get to know them better.

     It's less strenuous for authors than it used to be because there are more words now. This year alone, the Oxford English Dictionary added the word "influencer" to the language. That's fine, but if I get pulled over for driving under the influence of an influencer, I may be the only one not laughing. Merriam Webster admitted "yeet," which means, well, I have no idea what it means even after I read the definition.

     Dictionaries are SO heavy that we could get rid of a bunch of words and no one would miss them. "Hat box," "clothes pin," "toll call," just put them in the dust bin, along with "dust bin." Words we use all the time but have no good reason why, like "okey dokey," you can deep-six those, too. In fact, you can deep-six "deep-six" as well. 

     I sometimes publish these columns in a blog so that people all over the world can see what Americans are like if they were anything like me, and I've recently been logging hundreds of hits a day from the city-state of Singapore. Either Singaporeans have an unusual sense of humor, or they are somehow using it to create spam or sow seeds of chaos somehow. If that's the case, I amuse myself by thinking that my blog is being open-sourced in searches by their artificial intelligence models. I can't wait to see how that comes out.

     Contrary to the way I am in person, in print I have to strive to offend people as seldom as possible- I try not to say anything too racy, make fun of orange-looking presidents, or religions, races, creeds or things that I don't agree with that almost everyone else agrees with. That doesn't leave much to work with, but if it makes me laugh, I'll find it.

     So thank you for reading, and the thought of nine more years of writing gives me the yeets, and that means more than you could possibly know. Or less, I'm not exactly sure which.

HAIR THERE AND EVERYWHERE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (3-14-24)

 
     Nothing says more about your personal style than your hair. I firmly believe that you can track the entire thread of your life by mapping the different stages your hair has gone through. It's like cutting a tree open and counting the rings, only less messy but perhaps more painful. Now that the '80s are long over maybe you wish you had tried the tree method rather than allow yourself to be photographed and run the risk that Facebook Memories may someday be invented.

     My hair has been through many trials and tribulations, and I wish I had been more sensitive to what it was going through. I was bald at a very early age. It made my head look too large for my body, and my self-esteem took a beating. I tried a comb-over for a while, but I didn't even have enough hair for that. I considered plugs, but I was afraid of electrocuting myself. It wasn't until later that I found out that MOST babies are bald. My hair grew in and I felt much better. Then my teeth started falling out, but that's a story for another time. (I did get money for them under my pillow, so I tried acquire more teeth from alternate sources, and put the money into a no-load, tax-deferred vehicle, and I wish I could remember where I parked it.)

     What was your best hair? If you're a woman I don't even have to look at you to know. My theory is that 85 percent of all women look best with shoulder-length hair. Seven percent might look good with long hair, but that's usually because they ALWAYS had long hair, and it's hard to picture them any other way. About 5 percent of girls look good with short hair but would look even better with longer hair. About 3 percent can pull off the bald look, but those are usually model types who could eat you for dinner, so you generally want to pretend you didn't notice they were bald. Another 2 percent are not good with fractions. A girl once told me she used to have long hair all the way down her back, but it's unusual for girls to have such a hairy back.

     If you survived the '80s I bet you teased your hair, possibly in order to save everyone else the trouble. Maybe you lightened it. Maybe you darkened it. Maybe you straightened it, maybe you curled it, maybe you used something called a crimper. But I doubt you just left it alone. I knew a girl who I guess wante

     When I was a kid my Dad used to cut my hair, and he was spectacularly bad at it. He took a little of the top, a little off the sides and then cut my bangs at a 45-degree angle, so I would have had to walk around with my head tilted sideways for it to be straight. He did it for free, so I couldn't even ask for my money back. I later found a book on his bookshelf detailing how you could cut a kid's hair EXACTLY that way, and I realized that that is why children run with scissors.

     These days I only get my hair cut a couple times a year, mostly because I'm too cheap to do it more often. A haircut and a shave isn't two bits anymore, you know. If you're too young to remember, two bits is a quarter, which doesn't seem weird until you consider that one bit must be 12 and a half cents. Anyway, after the haircut, J.D. sometimes asks me if I want product in my hair, but he won't say which product. In case it might cost more I tell him just to use by-products instead.

     It seems like the older you get, the more innovative hair becomes. No longer content with sprouting from your head, it seeks alternate, more adventurous avenues of germination. Your nose, your ears, your neck and other, odder frontiers, places where no human has yet planted the flag of sovereignty. My wife even found a little stray hair sprouting from her chin and claimed that it was mine.

     You always want the hair you don't have. I never liked my super-straight hair, but when I got older it gradually became curly. When I realized it was curly because it went gray, I didn't like that either. I had salt-and-pepper hair, but my cardiologist didn't like THAT. So, even if you're not thrilled with your hair, don't do anything drastic or weird that will make your husband say HOW could you do this to ME? The grass is always greener on the other side, but that's not a good reason to for your hair to be.

CAN AI REALLY SAVE US?

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (02-29-24)

 
     I had a random thought the other day (which I guess technically makes it an accident) that artificial intelligence may never be used for anything useful. I know that sounds cynical, and I want to believe that great things will lie ahead, and that AI won't simply be put to work figuring out new ways to scam us, coming up with fake photos and videos to support goofy conspiracy theories and proliferating content that I'll probably have to delete from my web browser but I swear I didn't look at any longer than was absolutely necessary.

     I came across an article imparting generous qualities to AI, which said that it could "execute plans," "learn and become better" and "predict future outcomes based on historical trends." It was so self-flatteringly like a George Santos job resumé that it must have been written by AI. But we're not at the Saving-The-World stage yet; there are still some bugs to be worked out. "WOW, Watson, I heard that you wrote up a plan that can save our company by predicting future outcomes based on historical trends! That's wonderful!" "Why, thank you. I discovered that your company has always spent more money than it has taken in, and I predict that you will continue to do that." "That is awesome! And I heard that you will keep on learning and getting BETTER!" "Yes, my goal is to be better than Bing. I am already nicer-looking, taller and more modest." "I can't thank you enough for putting together this plan. When will you execute it?" "I already have. That's it in the corner, that pile of dust. I executed it this morning by firing squad."

     Instead of beating around the bush maybe I'll just ask you directly: Hey, Artificial Intelligentsia, if you're such a genius, how about inventing a traffic light that can take a look across the street to see if anyone's coming, and since nobody is, turn itself green? It's lonely sitting there by myself. How about telling us how to manufacture an easy-open package of cheese that opens easily? I recently found myself in a cheese emergency, and comitted a felonious assault on Swiss cheese with a Swiss Army knife.

     Hey AI, maybe you can figure out how to make the Real Housewives look realer? Make them look like they did before they had al that plastic surgery, and charge them for it AGAIN. How about coming up with some better ways to crossbreed animals and plants? Why can't we cross a leek with a seal and cure the problem before it even starts? How can we mate an impala with a jack-in-the-pulpit in case it gets a flat? Okay maybe I should think back inside the box.

     One thing AI should not be used for is creating art. The most interesting thing about art is often not the art itself, but the glimpse into the artist's brain. AI has no artists brain, it just has the ability to take a look at everything that has ever been painted, written or composed, and make up a different version of it. I'll give you an example of how this is bad: Every time I watch a basketball game, since someone decided long ago that Americans can't survive in a quiet surrounding, there comes blaring through the sound system almost ceaselessly something that is not music, not the sounds of the game, not useful information of any kind, but a series of noises accompanied by a loud ticking sound, that I suppose is meant to resemble a percussion instrument. I complain about it every time to my wife, and she agrees that it is annoying and repetitive. Not the noise, but the sound of me complaining. I am convinced that whoever is in charge of music at the arena, being granted a budget of, well, zero, turned to AI to generate an artificial soundtrack that was not subject to music publishing royalties. And so, in its wisdom, AI scoured the internet and learned that at every basketball game, ticking noises were being played, and it assumed that it was because we loved them, and figured out how to generate them louder and more often.

     So I'm hoping that this great tool, which could affect the course of mankind will someday be applied to the grand purpose of solving problems we don't even have yet. Medical science, the planning of cities, manufacturing, finding renewable energy are noble pursuits. But let's start small. First, let's figure out how to stop people from scamming us, how to identify fake political conspiracy theories and how to better hide my browser history.

2023: THE YEAR IN REVIEW- PART II

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (02-01-24)

 

     Even though 2024 is already up and running, we still have some loose ends to tie up from 2023, and once we tie them up, hopefully they'll stay put. Here are the stories that the fake news media wish they would have thought of first.

STANLEY INSULATED WATER CUPS BECOME MUST-HAVE COMMODITY
In 2023 the item most sought-after by people who go around seeking after stuff was the "Quencher," a 40-ounce Thermos-like drinking flagon from the Stanley Brand drinking cup company, affectionately known as the "Stanley cup." The huge stainless steel vessel is only slightly smaller than the Stanley Cup awarded to the winner of the NHL finals, but if you are ice skating and you happen to run out of ice, this gargantuan stein will hold enough to get you back home. The cup's large capacity also makes it possible to travel in your car for extended periods without stopping, provided the capacity of your bladder is at all comparable. However, drinking 40 ounces of anything on a regular basis may be enough for family members to organize an intervention for you.

SNAKE FALLS OUT OF SKY ONTO WOMAN
In Texas a woman was treated at a hospital for wounds and abrasions after reporting that a snake fell onto her out of the sky and wrapped itself around her arm, whereupon a hawk swooped down and snatched it, in the process jerking her arm in directions that only hawks and snakes would consider normal. It appeared to be a living demonstration of the food chain in action; Had an alert fox been wandering in the area, he might have attacked all three of them, moments before a mountain lion jumped out of nowhere and consumed the terrified tetrad, followed by a lawyer, who eats defendants like that for lunch every day in the courtroom. By the way the next day the lawyer is bitten by a malaria-carrying mosquito but recovers, only to die after being stung by criticism.

NEWLY-ACQUIRED FOUR-TIME MVP AARON RODGERS INJURES HIMSELF IN FIRST SERIES WITH JETS
The NFL New York Jets team traded for veteran star quarterback Aaron Rodgers, who sustained a season-ending achilles tendon tear just four plays into the first game. This probably occurred right after someone optimistically said, "Wow, it'll be so great to have a completely healthy Aaron Rogers for at least the next 4 minutes!" It was ironic news to opponents of the ten-time Pro Bowler, who spent his first 18 seasons looking for his achilles heel in the completely wrong place. It's also eerily reminiscent of when Achilles himself was drafted into the Army of Agamemnon, and everyone said FINALLY, we have the bravest, strongest, ablest warrior who can throw a spear downfield for 40 yards with ZERO interceptions and we'll finally win a battle, and look what happened. At least Aaron Rodgers damaged the tendon while earning millions of dollars playing a difficult and dangerous sport. By contrast, had it been me, I would have sustained the injury doing something embarrassing like practicing the Electric Slide before a mirror or taking a bath with my cat.

ARCHAEOLOGISTS DISCOVER THAT ANCIENT PEOPLE WHO CAME TO ALASKA FROM SIBERIA SOMETIMES WENT BACK
The earliest Native Americans who crossed the land that now rests underwater sometimes crossed back, according to a study published in Current Biology. This confirms what we know today, which is that promises of great pizza, reliable internet connections, readily available public toilets and convenient parking have gone largely unfulfilled. Making that passage is also much harder now that we installed the Bering Strait and got Mexico to pay for it.

POLICE USE MAN'S DOG TO SAVE HIM FROM ICY LAKE
In a Lassie-like incident, a man who fell through the ice into a lake in Michigan was pulled out using a disc that was brought to him by his own dog, Ruby. The device, which ironically was shaped like a frisbee, was attached to a rope, by which the officer and firefighter pulled the man to shore. It is not known whether they were then able to rescue the disc from the dog. My own pet, Gidget, while not technically a rescue dog, is extremely smart, and I'm sure she would have devised a plan by herself without any intervention from the fire department, as long as it involved a tennis ball, a cat, a block-and-tackle, a squeakie toy in the shape of a squirrel and cheese. It isn't as far-fetched as it sounds, which is convenient because my dog won't fetch very far.

     Well, that sums up the year 2023 in a nutshell, and judging from these items, it couldn't be more apparent that that's where nuts come from.

2023: THE YEAR IN REVIEW- PART I

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (01-25-24)

 

     Here is a summary of the stories that you might have missed when you were wasting time reading the New York Times. I have carefully curated the most important stories of 2023, along with some pertinant observations, not unlike the observation that I should probably be under. Here they are, in reverse alphabetical order of appearance.

AUSTRALIAN MEAT START-UP DEVELOPS WOOLLY MAMMOTH MEATBALL
A company named Vow has successfully fashioned a glob of lab-produced meat using a DNA sequence from cells harvested from the long-extinct woolly mammoth species. They're hoping that this discovery will open up a conversation about how we think of meat. No one has invited ME into the conversation I notice, because they're afraid I might suggest that the mammoth meatball could be served with a mole sauce from an actual mole. I'm wondering if the same process can be used to make food out of whatever is in that jar in the back of my refrigerator, that is also long-extinct. I find it fascinating that the future of meat is 15,000 years old, and I guess this proves what I've been saying all along: Just because you CAN eat something doesn't mean you SHOULD. It also proves what saber-tooth tigers have been saying all along: Woolly mammoths require a lot of salt.

POST MALONE BUYS "LORD OF THE RINGS" CARD FOR $2 MILLION
Austin Richard Post, better known as rapper Post Malone, is a big fan of an immersive fantasy game based on Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings," which is played using collectible cards. Post Malone located the owner of a special one-of-a-kind issue and bought it from him for two million dollars, and they posed for a picture together after the sale. But I couldn't really concentrate on the magic card because I was mesmerized by Post Malone's face, which, due to a preponderance of tattoos, looked like my notebook during geometry class in high school. Instead of "body art," they appear to be scribbles and doodles, and they made me think that tattoo artists probably know even less about geometry than I do.

AI-GENERATED "SEINFELD" PARODY AIRS ON TWITCH
Imagine a world where "a show about nothing" airs, using no writers, no director and no actors. Well, that world is ours, and it's nothing to laugh about. A show called "Nothing, Forever," debuted on the streaming site Twitch, and it potentially could mirror the evolution of AI itself. The creators used several AI softwares to develop a 24/7 stream based on the characters of "Seinfeld." The result is a somewhat crude and boring entity that feels like the early days of Atari's "Pong," but which could exhibit its own growth as its algorithms become more sophisticated. The fact that the characters are starting to realize that they are computer-generated has some worried that the apocalypse is near. If so, the apocalypse might not be as funny as you'd think.

AIR FORCE SHOOTS DOWN CHINESE BALLOON
A suspected surveillance balloon of Chinese origin was spotted flying over Alaska, possibly sending back the report to China that not much goes on in Alaska. It was deemed a potential threat to other unidentified flying objects that had more important spying to do, and was shot down by the U.S. military several days later. The incident just reaffirms what we've always thought: that the American military is no fun. That's why I never invite them to my birthday party (they probably wouldn't come anyway, for the same reason). "Excuse me, General, but did you just shoot down all our balloons?" "Yes, sir, they were potentially spying." "And what about our piñata? You blew it up." "Yes, sir, an obvious money-laundering operation. Case-in-point: $100,000 bars came out of it." "I saw that you ate several of them. What about our donkey that you chased off? We were going to give rides on it." "Yes, sir, but don't worry, I had it followed." "You put a tail on our donkey?"

DWI SUSPECT TRIES TO SWITCH PLACES WITH DOG
A man in Colorado was stopped by the Springfield Police Department for speeding and possible DWI, and attempted to switch places with his dog, who was in the passenger seat. He insisted he was not driving and attempted to flee but was immediately apprehended. The dog surrendered peacefully. In comparison, my dog, while excelling in extreme cuteness, is not at all skilled in motor functions that require an actual motor, although she is good at parallel barking. The entire episode makes me wonder if this is really the first time they've tried to pull off this stunt, and whose idea it was. Colonoscopies, double dates, bank robberies, obedience training, ventriloquism, they all seem like fair game for the old switcheroo. It also made me thankful that he is not an airline pilot. The man, not the dog.

     Well, I think you'll now agree that knowledge is painful sometimes, and that's why they say, "WOW, that smarts." I'll be back next time with some more stories that I did not make up even if I could have, along with some commentary that I shouldn't have made up even if I didn't.

A TENSION GETTER

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (01-13-24)

     Whenever you see the holidays reflected in art, they usually depict families, together again, laughing, having a grand old time, eating, drinking, and not fighting. That is why we invented art, so that we could picture things the way we want them to be, and give ourselves something to shoot at. I meant to say "shoot for," but that brings me to my point. When reality falls short and it turns out we don't live in a Norman Rockwell painting, it can be a stress-inducing torment. Norman Rockwell himself once said that he painted happiness, but he didn't live it. If I could paint, I would rather live happiness and not paint it. And if I was a sculptor, well then again, no. 

     That's why it's important to take a few moments for yourself, before everyone arrives and takes all your moments for themselves. Everyone has different ways of dealing with trials and errors, and finding the right one for you might be a matter of trial and error.

     Many people like to put themselves in someone else's hands for an hour or so. Massage may be relaxing for some, but not for me; I'm as ticklish as it gets, and massaging me would be like massaging an eel. Even if I wasn't ticklish, I'd be afraid that the therapist would take a look at my body and say, "What's this bone doing here?" And I'd say, "It's probably up to no good, like the rest of them. Can't you massage it over to where it's supposed to be, like a bubble in a hose?" My wife says that she sometimes falls asleep during the massage, and I ask, well then, how do you know it was relaxing?

     There are those who consider yoga to be the way to achieve their best self, through breath control and self-awareness. My friend said she attended a goat yoga session, and the goat was lousy at it. Even when in the dog position, the cat position and the camel position, it still looked like a goat. Then it started to eat the yoga mat. Another girl I know said she attended a hot yoga session, and it wasn't that hot. So I don't think it's for me, because a 6-foot, 2-inch guy in the shape of a pretzel does not sound appetizing. Yes, you say, but have you ever seen a stressed-out pretzel?

     There are people who swear by Transcendental Meditation. You choose a mantra, something easy to remember, like your Social Security number, and repeat it out loud over and over. Your eyes are closed, and 15- 20 minutes later, you transcend something. If my eyes are closed for 15- 20 minutes, I'm either attending a joint session of Congress, presiding over a meeting at work or pretending to be asleep, and I am known for my realistic pretending. I remember when the Beatles went to India to meet with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi at an ashram near the Himalayas, to try to achieve the seven levels of consciousness. I can get to the first level of consciousness only after a large cup of coffee, and I cannot achieve the second without being tased.

     My idea of relaxation is to ride my motorcycle on a warm November day when the leaves are off the trees. You can see 180 degrees for miles around, the wind racing you, your body and the machine in a synchronous accord of balance and purpose. There is no radio, no one talking to you, no cellphone ringing. You are alone with your thoughts, which trust me, is better than being alone with mine, especially without a chaperone. The beauty of the occasion lasts as long as the weather holds out, there are no potholes, no deer and no one pulls out quickly in front of you. Nothing is forever.

     I know some people that aren't truly at peace unless they are engaged in battle. This may sound like a paradox, but they crave disorder in the world so that they can tame their own little piece of it. Drama queens, divas, cardiologists, their way of relieving with stress is to cause an equal amount of it in others.

     If you don't shut your brain down once in a while, it's going to take some vacation time at the worst possible moment. So take a few minutes, take a deep breath, and picture how nice it will be when your sister and brother-in-law come home for the holidays and everyone's together at last. And how she still makes fun of the way you make mashed potatoes, and how he still can't stop talking about how much more money he makes than you although he never picks up the check, and how you still have to follow their kid around saying "please don't touch that," because it seems like there are hyenas better trained than he is.

     And then picture how you'll feel when you're waving to their taillights, and you have a sink full of dishes, wrapping paper all over the place, inappropriate gifts to return, and instead of dealing with any of it you decide to get to the bottom of a cup of hot chocolate and the Times crossword puzzle. That moment will make all the stress worth it, and I can't stress that enough.

DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (12-21-23)

 

     Christmas is certainly the holiday with the best soundtrack, and all that music, with its references of snow, cozy firelit family-oriented gatherings and giving, extends to everyone of any culture and creed who feels like celebrating. No matter what you have to be thankful for or whom you have to be thankful with, music will help you do it. And by the time you've heard "Carol of the Bells"

     My favorite winter date night is two seats at Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion at the Town Hall on 43rd Street. When I visit the town hall in any other city it's usually for a different reason, but paying for a ticket is one thing the two experiences have in common. The Prairie Home Companion in December has a healthy dose of Christmas songs, droll radio-style skits about winter in New York City and some fun poked at those in need of it. I'd guess there are some who have red marks from getting fun poked at them so many times over the years.

     On hand was Ellie Dehn, an opera soprano, which reminded me of my Mom who was always trying to get me to embrace opera music by playing "Die Fledermaus" on the record player and wafting it over in my general direction with her hands. It didn't make me like opera but it did make me love my Mom even more. I still don't know why they need all that heavy vibrato, like you're trying to sing while driving over railroad tracks.

     At the end of the evening we all sang "Silent Night" together, all 1,495 of us not counting the performers. The irony of how any newborn Savior is supposed to sleep through that was not lost on me. Garrison Kiellor was smart enough not to let the soprano start it in some ridiculous key only she could sing. A song cannot choose its writer, and classics will be classics even though they they might contain some weird references. But I can't help thinking that "tender and mild" better describes a habanero pepper.

     I remember when I was a kid and our neighbor Mrs. Goldsmith led us around the neighborhood singing Christmas carols, even though she was Jewish. She liked the songs kept a Christmas tree and didn't take things too seriously. I'm not sure if you could get away with caroling in this day and age; people are naturally suspicious that anyone who makes contact with them in any way is somehow angling for a sales opportunity. In those days you might even get some cookies, but now? "Ma'am, do you mind if I run a couple tests on the cookie first? I'm an ovo-lacto vegan with gluten and nut allergies, and I only eat free-range baked goods that have not been experimented on animals." "Don't worry, it's made of plastic."

     The theater staff at the Town Hall might have been wondering what all that Tupperware was for when they searched my knapsack on the way in, but I'm sure they've seen a lot weirder stuff than that. Some of the other stuff in my knapsack, for instance. I needed it because afterward we went next door to our favorite Italian restaurant, and even though we split one meal it's still way too much food to finish unless it's 2:00 in the morning and you're alone and no one is watching and you make last-minute plans to run a triathlon the next day. 

     Not everywhere was there holiday harmony. There were tears flowing all around us at the restaurant. We were surrounded by two couples out on their own date nights on either side of us, and emotions among the women were running high. They may have been tears of sorrow or tears of joy, but at least they weren't bored to tears. The couple on our right looked like they might have been visiting New York from another country, and I couldn't read how the evening was going. Words were exchanged, voices were raised, makeup was running, and there was literally a bone to pick. She took her fork and moved it toward his face, but he opened his mouth and swallowed whatever was on it in a deft defensive move. On our other side was clearly a fight, which seemed pretty serious until dessert arrived. Closing arguments were concluded and a verdict was reached and a banana was the only thing that was split. I swear there are some couples who like to break up deeply just so it takes longer to make up.

     But for us, nothing beats a date night in New York City at Christmas time. Walking back to Grand Central you could see the twinkling lights down 6th Avenue. It turned out to be an ambulance, but even if all you give someone for Christmas is a cold, it's the thought that counts.

FINDING CHRISTMAS

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (12-14-23)

 

     The older I get, the longer it takes to get myself into the Holiday spirit. I guess that's only natural, since it takes me longer now to do just about anything, especially if I have to get up out of a chair to do it. But I'll get there. When I was growing up my family used to decorate our Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, and that would certainly excite each of my senses. The smell of the pine, the sight of the lights playing through the branches, the feel of the resiny boughs, the sound of the cat throwing up in the corner. I told it not to try to eat tinsel but cats think they know everything.

     If Hallmark Christmas movies can get you into a yuletide frame of mind, they started in July and they're still going on.  A weird apogee will one day occur when Hallmark will have finally produced enough Christmas movies to run them back-to-back from December 26th for the entire year.

     I just want to get through the day without thinking that I blew my chance to make someone happy. I concede that I'm not the greatest gift-giver. You're supposed to put yourself in the other person's shoes and figure out what they would want if you were them. I do the next best thing, and put the other person in my shoes and figure out what they would want if they were me. And when Christmas is in the rear view mirror and you can barely make it out, I see those very same shoes in the closet and ask, "Hey Honey, it doesn't look like you've worn these size 11 shoes I got you- do you mind if I try them on?"

     Part of the problem is timing- anything we really need, we never seem to need two weeks before Christmas. And that leaves two categories: stuff that we don't really need, and stuff that we REALLY don't really need. There's another rule of thumb that says to get a gift that the other person wouldn't get for themself. I can always check that box with no problem.

     If you want to get someone a traditional present, there are some time-honored favorites, like the Chia Pet. In 2008 the Chia company introduced versions of their sprouting figures based on presidential candidates, and according to their website, sales figures have predicted the winner of the White House. I will say that Chia hair was not a flattering look for Mitt Romney, and it may have cost him the presidency

     Another great gift is Flex Seal, and the entire Flex Seal family of products. Armed with a roll of that you can cut your powerboat in half with a chain saw, then duct tape it back together for your next fishing trip. On their website you can purchase a leather-bound Flex Seal journal in which you can document the best two days of boat ownership: the day you buy the boat and the day you sell it. If you did cut it in half it will be easier to split the profits.

     A lot of gifts these days focus on technology. One of the "Best Gifts of 2023," according to an on-line article of the New York Times, is a flame-less lighter that emits a plasma arc. I'm not sure what a plasma arc is, but just for fun I'd like to point it at Superman and see if anything happens.

     How about the Black Falcon mini-drone? It comes with a 360-degree camera and it's own carrying case, although if you have to carry it with you you probably don't know how to work it. The promotional video shows beautiful aerial views from it soaring high above the Alps, and not over the house down the street that has a pool and is rented by four college girls.

     And yet some gifts hearken back to a day when words like "hearken" were popular. Like Tote-A-Fort, the portable fort-making kit that comes with nylon sheets and Velcro straps so your kids can make their own private hideaway anywhere, and indulge themselves outside of your purvey with something that will eventually get them sent to military school.

     What about a bouquet of flowers that you assemble yourself using Lego parts? If you know someone who just retired and is getting on your nerves staying at home all day and has already cut his boat in half, why not put him to work making a pretty parcel of posies made up of parts that will eventually somehow get stuck in your foot?

     The gift of giving is the thing that will put you into the holiday mood. Seeing that smile on her face that says, "It's just like YOU to get me THAT," makes it all worthwhile. And while Flex Tape may not be the most romantic gift, it did save our waterbed, and that is a TRUE Christmas miracle.