I’ve been feeling quite happy lately but not particularly inspired to write or work on my art. I wondered if it’s a message from God that I’m not very good at either one, and I should quit, and from there I started to shut down.
Thankfully, I remembered my emerging theory that when evaluating the enjoyment factor of life after work, results are overrated. Just let go, she says to herself. In large part, retirement is about making it to the finish line and doing whatever you can get away with.
While you were busy learning Mandarin or perhaps planning your next trip to Machu Picchu, assuming you can still get in and out of there, I took it upon myself to count the number of beeps I typically encounter in a day. I’m up to 15, but I’m pretty sure I’ve missed a few.
It’s crazy how devices and appliances have wormed their way into our brains. I wonder if anyone has studied how this affects us. In a way, it’s like being zapped with a tiny dose of electricity every few minutes. That’s got to add up to something horrible, don’t you think?
My wireless cell phone charger makes a double-beep sound when you hit the elusive sweet spot. The dishwasher beeps when it starts and again when it’s done. The washing machine is special. A beep to turn it on, a beep to select the cycle, yet another for the water temperature and a final beep to start the whole thing. When it’s done, it plays a string of beeps one might call a tune or jingle.
The Washing Machine Song, not to be confused with the pizza song, which we actually wrote ourselves.
Pizza, pizza, ya, ya, ya
Pizza, pizza, ha, ha, ha
Then there’s Dale’s old watch with an alarm set for 10:22 a.m. It goes off in a flurry of beeps every single day, but he can’t hear it, and neither one of us knows how to turn it off. Good news is I’m up by then, so it’s not really a problem. Not like the smoke alarm battery, which never, ever goes off during business hours.
There’s more, but you get the idea. I mean it’s nice to have audible alerts, but in evolutionary terms, I’m sure there’s a price to pay.
So, Christmas is on. We’re not doing a tree this year, probably because I’ve complained bitterly in the past about what a pain in the ass it is. Dale likes a tree, but a man can only take so much. I suggested we try it just this once without, and if he really misses it, I’ll back off forever. I think that’s a fair deal.
We only get each other one present. A few from the sisters arrived in the mail. I suggested we put them under the coffee table in lieu of the tree, which we know now is on sabbatical. He sort of went for it, but the cat is not digging this whole scene. Everyday, the presents get pushed just a wee bit further out from under the table. It’s actually quite entertaining. If for no other reason, we’ll probably go back to the tree just to keep the cat happy.
In terms of entertainment, I can recommend a couple of good books and a streaming opportunity. For books, I can’t say enough great things about Andy Weir’s Project Mail Mary. He wrote The Martian, which I also loved.
Another excellent read was Lost in the Valley of Death: A Story of Obsession and Danger in the Himalayas by Harley Rustad. The story reminded me of Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. It’s kind of sick and wrong, but I enjoy reading about these complex people who self-destruct in the wilderness.
Although I’ve never read the Louise Penny books featuring Inspector Gamache, they are on my list. Conveniently, I stumbled upon Three Pines on Amazon Prime. The show is based on her books, and there’s only one season so far, but I like it a lot.
I used to read a fair amount of science fiction but usually default to crime. After reading Project Hail Mary, I decided to make more of an effort in the sci-fi genre. Already downloaded and ready to go is Leviathan Wakes by James S. A. Corey. Space adventure featuring a detective! Like it was made for me.