Monthly Archives: February 2009

For those of you old enough to remember what childhood was like before television had dozens of channels, you might remember waking up so early on a Saturday morning that the cartoons weren’t even on yet. ABC, NBC, CBS… nothing. Not even infomercials. They weren’t invented. This was before the Internet, before cell phones, heck – before most people even had cable. Remember what was there on the TV screen really early in the morning? It was something like this wasn’t it?

This is where two home towns has come to – at least for the time being. The fact is that my posting rate has trailed off dramatically since last summer, getting thinner with each passing month. I think that there are three main reasons for this.

First, the present circumstances and frame of mind in any one life only offer only so much material to share before they become uninteresting – at least for a writer of my skill. This is particularly true if you want to be mindful of your dignity and respectful of the privacy of those with whom you spend your time. After writing more than 100,000 words here during 2008 I find that it’s increasingly difficult to walk that line, which means that each post I write now takes far more time than it did in the early days. That brings me to my second reason, which is…

My available time for blogging has plummeted. As the past year unfolded all of the many experiences I had were great to reflect on and write about, but the more engaged I got with new relationships and activities the less time there was available for writing. Starting in October I dramatically increased the number of things I was involved in here in Dallas to get out and make more friends. I also took on my physical fitness goals with an unprecedented level of intensity for me. On top of all of that I also got much more responsibility at work starting with the New Year. Add that up and the truth is plain – I’m hardly ever idle long enough to write something I feel good about now, which makes it very difficult to post much of anything.

Finally, there is the matter of new relationships. Walking that line of writing something interesting versus writing something too revealing is hard enough when it’s only myself or a long-standing and sturdy friendship in question. With new relationships I find that it’s almost impossible. With my close friends I have a very good idea of what I can write about here that will not go over the line from their perspective. But with new friends? Well, I simply don’t know where the line is for them, and talking about it explicitly is uncomfortable. I’m not spending time getting to know people so that I can have material for my blog, but people I don’t really know yet can’t be sure of that. Regardless, I think it’s too easy to come off as being self absorbed or somehow self serving when you put your blog out there as a topic of conversation.

So, here we are. I’m running out of things I care to share about my inner thoughts and it’s awkward to rely on experiences with new friends to fill the gap. If I could find the time then perhaps I could write about stuff that doesn’t concern either – politics or current events for example, but for reasons I explained a long time ago, I don’t want to go out like that. So for now at least, I’m simply going out.

I honestly don’t know when regularly scheduled programming will resume, or how I’m going to find an outlet or the time for my strong desire to keep writing. Until then kids, I can only suggest that you do what I’m doing.

Go out and play.

The New Year already seems distant and I suppose it should – one month of 2009 is already gone. On the morning of January 1st I wrote my “year in review” post here. The process surprised me with just how many highlights there were in my 2008, but while that list was perfectly accurate in its details, it was lacking in another sense. It failed to include the essence of what I took away from the year. In the same way that describing a party with statistics would tell you very little about who had fun, my prior post provided no coherence to the lesson I derived from 2008. This one should remedy that.

My key observation from the year crystallized back in early December. The weekend after my birthday I spent the large majority of my time from Friday night to Sunday afternoon either hanging out with old and new friends or making new acquaintances. Some of that socializing was done while taking in nice meals and wine, and the rest while hiking in the outstanding late autumn weather of Texas. Overall it was a very positive 48 hours for an extrovert like me, and even the few moments of quiet time that I did have alone were meaningful. In them I was persistently preoccupied with one notion: My enjoyment related to making new friends in Dallas was meaningful in a way that I had not yet fully grasped. I first wrote about the experience here, and I knew at the time there was more that I wanted to say but wasn’t quite sure how to get it out until now.

As Pliny the Elder is purported to have said, “En vino veritas” or, for those not up on Latin, “In wine, truth.” Some of the great conversation during the cabernets and chiantis of that weekend ambled in the direction of amateur philosophy that such dialogue sometimes does. At one point the subject of favorite ideas or quotations came up. Unsurprisingly I had one to contribute, for I am an unrepentant quote hound. It was this one from Aristotle:

“Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.”

Now these words were particularly timely. This particular group of friends and I had met at a book club earlier last autumn and we had just finished reading Acquired Tastes by Peter Mayle. It is a humorous and thoroughly researched book about the habits and diversions of the world’s wealthiest people. At the outset, Mayle pointed out that the very rich are often very miserable for a peculiar reason which only they can fully appreciate. According to Mayle those that become completely preoccupied with the finest material things gradually become obsessed with the smallest of details about every experience until they ultimately damage their relationships.

The progression goes something like this:  Once such people have gathered and displayed every toy that they might ever desire to possess, they are left terribly idle. With nothing left to buy they can only focus their craving for the very best on the minutiae of how each day passes. Was the chauffeur properly attentive without becoming too familiar? Was the caviar as good as it was last time? Were the flowers arranged just as I had requested, or did that ditzy florist leave something out again? These become very important questions, because nothing less than exquisite perfection in each and every moment can satisfy a person so enabled and so entrapped by their own wealth.

In other words these people are doomed. Nothing can possibly meet such high expectations and therefore literally everything makes them unhappy. It is in this manner that they become obsessed with the trappings of wealth even while those very things slowly separate them from their own well-being. Ever more absorbed with what they have instead of who they love, they become completely lost in the material and the experiential. Constantly focused on what is wrong instead of what is right, they gradually alienate everyone that cannot relate to their special kind of discontent. The result is that their relationships gradually become shallow, negative and fewer in number. In the worst of cases these poor souls ultimately suffer a complete inversion of Aristotle’s concept, having “all other goods” and no friends. Think Leona Helmsley and you get the picture.

By blessed contrast my new friends and I discussed Mayle’s book and the apparent hazards of unbounded wealth while thoroughly enjoying nothing more grandiose than each other’s company, tasty pizza and garden variety wine. At least a couple of us were able to share stories that really underlined the truth that wealth alone simply does not make you happy. I drove home from our dinner on Saturday night knowing that I was on the verge of being able to express something fundamental.

“Relationships, experiences, things…” I’m not sure what caused me to think of those three words in that sequence, but lying in that blissful state of emerging wakefulness on the following Sunday morning, they marched across my mind in that order and then I had it.  The thought I was struggling with was revealed.

First, this is the proper order of these three values. Presuming the needs of basic survival are met, no healthy person will place anything ahead of relationships. Whether it’s family, friends or coworkers nothing comes ahead of that. I believe that experiences come next. Why? As I passed through 2008 while making friends along the way it became more clear to me than ever that it is shared experiences which build real relationships. All of the outdoors stuff, travel and other adventures I had with new friends, old friends and family over the course of the year were great examples of that at work. Lastly, things. After survival, what value do they really have? Setting aside comfort and convenience, it occurred to me that things are valuable to the extent that they enable interesting experiences which forge great relationships. That’s why over the past year I found myself placing more value on a mountain bike or hiking gear or a plane ticket somewhere special than I did on completing my furniture or other sundries in my apartment. I finally got around to fully furnishing and decorating my place only after I had higher priorities taken care of, and now it’s clear as to why. I had a new network of friends to build here in my Dallas, and I already knew everybody in my apartment. More furniture wasn’t going to lead to any interesting experiences and the relationships that result from them.

So now as I think forward to all of the years that lie ahead, it’s a lot easier for me to feel good about my priorities when it comes to spending my money and my time. It’s simple. When doing so I will first , prioritize the things that enable memorable experiences which in turn will create and strengthen relationships. This progression places everything in the perspective of the healthy desired end.  It orders things as Aristotle would, not as Leona did.

There you have it – my lesson from 2008, and a lesson for life.