I'm sure that you are familiar with FOMO, the fear of missing out. And you may know about FOBO, the fear of a better offer. But have you ever heard of TFOMTBS, the fear of missing the best song? I doubt it since I just made it up. I say I made it up, but it's actually somewhat of a problem for me.
My first car was a 1950 Chevrolet Deluxe. No I didn't buy it new. I was born a few years later. That luxury sedan that sported a powerful flathead six under the hood got me around town in style. And "around town" is literal since I wasn't comfortable taking it very far out of the city limits of Enterprise, Alabama. The cabin amenities included an AM radio with one speaker in the dashboard. The radio had six presets, but that was five too many since Enterprise only had one radio station, WIRB. At night, though, it could pick up WLS 89 out of Chicago. Listening to WLS late at night had a magical quality to it, even through one cheap speaker. So during the day my music choices were simple, tune to WIRB and listen to whatever they played. At night I had two choices. I usually just listened to the music out of Chicago.
My listening choices in my Nissan Altima are nearly unlimited. Through the Bose surround sound system I can play the radio, and also Spotify playlists and radio stations. I can play CDs. With the radio I have Sirius/XM satellite radio or AM/FM stations. XM radio alone offers me 223 stations. You may say, "So, you pay for your radio music?" We all pay for radio music. You can pay a subscription and listen to music virtually commercial free. Or you can listen to commercial radio and listen to three commercials for every song you hear. I choose to pay the subscription.
XM gives me four pages of six presets, three pages of XM stations and one for AM/FM stations. Although I have chosen stations for all twenty four presets, I usually just listen to the six on the first page. Number One is Channel 116 CNN News. Some call it "fake news" I just call it news. But I don't listen to it often because of the commercials (which aren't fake either, just annoying). I also don't appreciate the often disturbing nature of the information. Number Two is Channel 34, Lithium. This station is Alternative 90s music. This music was the music of my son's teenage years. I enjoyed it then and I still do. Number 3 is Channel 6 the 60s station. Number 4 is Channel 18, the Beatles Channel. Number 5 Channel 32 is The Bridge, folk 70s music. Number 6 is Channel 26, Classic Vinyl.
So when I was a teenager listening to music on the radio was very simple. I turned on the radio and listened to music. Now just on Page One of four my music choices are immense. Thus TFOMTBS is a reality. Now when I'm listening to the Beatles station, for example, and they're playing something I don't particularly like, I can keep listening or five more options are a finger poke away. More often than not I change stations. When I'm listening to my favorite XM station, Channel 32, The Bridge I let it play through several not-my-favorite songs before I bolt. But if they play three or four songs I don't particularly enjoy, I press another preset, usually the sixties station. My adolescence straddled both of those decades so I often hear something I remember and like. Sometimes when I turn on the radio, if I don't particularly enjoy what's playing I will sequentially go through all the presets to see if they're playing one of my favorite songs. If that search doesn't yield positive results, I'll just go to preset 1 and listen to the news. It usually doesn't take very long, however, for me to choose another option. Besides the commercials, there's only so much news that I can stomach. Even if some of the news is fake, my reaction to it isn't.
In spite of my somewhat OCD issues with the radio choices, there are times I put the radio on one station and just listen to it for a while. When I force myself to do that, occasionally the music approaches that WLS magical quality of my teenage years. "Then if that's the case, why not do it all the time?" you ask. TFOMTBS ! Changing stations is as easy as pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
Yesterday I read about emerging technology that will allow someone to steer a drone with only his thoughts. I hope they'll use that technology in our cars. It would save me a lot of time and effort. And would be a lot safer as well.
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Saturday, November 18, 2017
A Very Important Part of My Past
"I realize that there is something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they're experts at letting things go." Ginny Rometty
It is not unusual for my wife to say something profound. Although she seldom sets out to say something profound, she quite often does so anyway. That was certainly the case earlier this week. She picked up a piece of paper with a phone number on it and asked me if I was going to call this lady regarding her loss of a significant person and I said, "No, I don't think so. Are you?" She looked at the scrap of paper, then looked at me as she was throwing it away and said, "No. She was a very important part of my past."
Just like that. Presto wham o, she explained something that I had been feeling for the past few days. It would actually be more accurate to say something I had not been feeling.
My grandfather bought a small house on Laguna Beach, Florida several years before I was born. This small two-bedroom house we called "the cottage." The house was remodeled several times and my great aunt bought and annexed another small rental cottage to it to become quite a large beach house. We affectionately called that annexed house "the Holiday Inn". The most recent newlyweds got to stay there. Now the cottage could easily sleep 25 people. Until my family sold that house some years ago, it had been in the family over 40 years. The house is located just across Highway 98 from the beach. To spend time on the beach, we only had to walk out the side door, cross the highway and we were on the dunes of Laguna Beach. We then walked/ran/stumbled down the sandy path to the white sands and the Gulf of Mexico. Various members of the family at various times of the year would use the cottage. But on the fourth of July the entire clan of my parents, siblings, grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins converged for a long weekend. This weekend included much time together in the cottage, much time on the beach, much time water skiing at Phillips Inlet, much time fishing with Dad on West Bay and much good food and laughter. Have you ever heard of "beach toast"? My mother made beach toast which you can only make at the beach.
For reasons I have never completely understood, nearly 20 years ago my mother and her sister sold the cottage to complete strangers. As far as I was concerned, the cottage was gone. I certainly grieved the financial impact to the family but I mostly grieved the personal loss. All those people would never be in the same time and place again.. Significant funerals have brought many of us together, but never all of us. A significant relational rug had been permanently pulled out from under me.
But over the years my grief for that place has been replaced by the grief for those people. Most of them are dead and gone--my grandparents, my parents, my aunts and uncles are all gone All but one of my cousins are still alive and we're next up. Even if we still owned that house, there would be no 4th celebration on that scale; there would be no beach toast, only my mother could make that.
I didn't realize that I had made complete peace with that time and place until last week. My wife and I stayed in a condo less than a mile from that house. I considered driving by the cottage and decided that I didn't want to or need to. To get to the beach from our condo all we had to do was take the elevator down fifteen floors, walk out the back door through a gate and we were there. The water had never been more beautiful, the sand more white and clean, and the sunsets were divine. The blue/green gulf water didn't know the difference between the cottage and the condo. I felt perfectly at home. Did I miss that house? Sure I did. Did I miss all those people? Sure I did. But what I had was so much more than what I had lost. What I wasn't feeling was much more important than what I was feeling.
Although her loss was great, and the relationship had been meaningful, neither of us called that lady who had been a good friend. "She was an important part of my past." As important as it is to connect and reconnect, as much as it matters to "be in touch" with people from our past, it is much more important for us so spend time with people who are a significant part of our present. We can learn a lot from trees.
It is not unusual for my wife to say something profound. Although she seldom sets out to say something profound, she quite often does so anyway. That was certainly the case earlier this week. She picked up a piece of paper with a phone number on it and asked me if I was going to call this lady regarding her loss of a significant person and I said, "No, I don't think so. Are you?" She looked at the scrap of paper, then looked at me as she was throwing it away and said, "No. She was a very important part of my past."
Just like that. Presto wham o, she explained something that I had been feeling for the past few days. It would actually be more accurate to say something I had not been feeling.
My grandfather bought a small house on Laguna Beach, Florida several years before I was born. This small two-bedroom house we called "the cottage." The house was remodeled several times and my great aunt bought and annexed another small rental cottage to it to become quite a large beach house. We affectionately called that annexed house "the Holiday Inn". The most recent newlyweds got to stay there. Now the cottage could easily sleep 25 people. Until my family sold that house some years ago, it had been in the family over 40 years. The house is located just across Highway 98 from the beach. To spend time on the beach, we only had to walk out the side door, cross the highway and we were on the dunes of Laguna Beach. We then walked/ran/stumbled down the sandy path to the white sands and the Gulf of Mexico. Various members of the family at various times of the year would use the cottage. But on the fourth of July the entire clan of my parents, siblings, grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins converged for a long weekend. This weekend included much time together in the cottage, much time on the beach, much time water skiing at Phillips Inlet, much time fishing with Dad on West Bay and much good food and laughter. Have you ever heard of "beach toast"? My mother made beach toast which you can only make at the beach.
For reasons I have never completely understood, nearly 20 years ago my mother and her sister sold the cottage to complete strangers. As far as I was concerned, the cottage was gone. I certainly grieved the financial impact to the family but I mostly grieved the personal loss. All those people would never be in the same time and place again.. Significant funerals have brought many of us together, but never all of us. A significant relational rug had been permanently pulled out from under me.
But over the years my grief for that place has been replaced by the grief for those people. Most of them are dead and gone--my grandparents, my parents, my aunts and uncles are all gone All but one of my cousins are still alive and we're next up. Even if we still owned that house, there would be no 4th celebration on that scale; there would be no beach toast, only my mother could make that.
I didn't realize that I had made complete peace with that time and place until last week. My wife and I stayed in a condo less than a mile from that house. I considered driving by the cottage and decided that I didn't want to or need to. To get to the beach from our condo all we had to do was take the elevator down fifteen floors, walk out the back door through a gate and we were there. The water had never been more beautiful, the sand more white and clean, and the sunsets were divine. The blue/green gulf water didn't know the difference between the cottage and the condo. I felt perfectly at home. Did I miss that house? Sure I did. Did I miss all those people? Sure I did. But what I had was so much more than what I had lost. What I wasn't feeling was much more important than what I was feeling.
Although her loss was great, and the relationship had been meaningful, neither of us called that lady who had been a good friend. "She was an important part of my past." As important as it is to connect and reconnect, as much as it matters to "be in touch" with people from our past, it is much more important for us so spend time with people who are a significant part of our present. We can learn a lot from trees.
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