As I’m sitting down to begin writing this week’s story, Christmas has just ended for 2016. This time of the year is associated with a spirit of giving. I’ve always believed that we each receive so much more when we give. As a matter of fact, I received the most memorable switching as a result of giving away a can of my dad’s soup without asking first, (a not so fun memory related to giving – link). But this week’s story about ‘giving’ is a funny memory for me.
The night I began writing this true tale is in the middle of December, just a couple of days before the coming of the shortest day of the year. We are so busy this month as we prepare for a final relocation to Phoenix. There is so much to do when moving and especially when downsizing. The biggest job of course is the rummaging through 2-3 decades of ‘stuff’ – do we keep the three bins of the kids’ kindergarten artwork? What gets sold on EBay? What gets donated to Goodwill? Should I send my name and address to this guy in Jackson, Florida so he can send me a check for my wife’s curio, the one he just loves from my Craigslist ad? And what about Blackey, the outdoor cat who adopted us 12 years ago?
Not too long ago, I had an eye examination. I like to make sure I’m seen at least every other year. If for nothing else, I like to make sure no early stage of glaucoma is coming on. As usual, my ophthalmologist flipped out the lights on us and then flashed the tiny alphabet soup chart on the wall and told me to read the third line from the bottom. To that, I said to her – I think I can read the bottom line.
Very many times as I am writing these little true life stories, I am hit sideways with a new memory. It sometimes makes me believe that all of our memories are neatly tucked away inside the many whorls of our brain. Wouldn’t it be a great thing to be able to tap into them or download them onto a flash drive so that they could be replayed on your video screen? This is a short story, but it’s a very cute one, a memory I’m glad that popped out of one of those brain whorls.
The house is empty now and you know what that means. Uh-huh, no kids to worry about walking in during sex. Sex anytime and anywhere, yee-haw!
In this story (link) I wrote a funny tale of how for a brief moment I thought I might be blood related to my wife. It’s a funny joke sometimes shared amongst us ‘Hamiltuckians’ that we’re all related to each other and it’s appropriate that at the time of this release, I am spending time with Kim’s family, celebrating her mom’s birthday. Perhaps Kim and I are not blood related, but there definitely are a lot of strings connecting our paths.
Hannibal Lecter: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
Clarice Starling: He kills women…
Hannibal Lecter: No. That is incidental. What is the first and principal thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
Clarice Starling: Anger, um, social acceptance, and, huh, sexual frustrations, sir…
Hannibal Lecter: No! He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now.
Clarice Starling: No. We just…
Hannibal Lecter: No. We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don’t you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don’t your eyes seek out the things you want?