When was the last time you said "you're right" to someone who was trying to convince you of something? In the house I grew up in, this is something no one ever said, because (as the theory goes) if you said it, you'd be forever reminded of the time you were "wrong" and they were right. You would be subordinate to this person, be it your mother, father, brother, grandfather, grandmother. Not my uncles so much, they were more on my side than the rest of them. Anyway it took me a number of years of living outside this house to realize that not everyone is like this. Some people relax when you say the magic words. They open up and say more things that you can learn from. Everyone has a point of view, like the blind men and the elephant. What they see as truth may not be a universal truth, but to them it seems that way. And you are one of those people too. One time a long time ago, when I realized all of us can learn from everyone else, I wrote that we're just barking, farting chihuahas, even captains of industry like Bill Gates and Larry Ellison, with delusions of grandeur and a sense that they matter. Nothing we do really matters, in the end, but we can pretend that it does, in the moment, and if you can say something true that makes someone happy, why not? 😄 #Last night's baseball was pretty intense. The Mets and Braves were playing at the same time in different cities, tied for first place in the NL East, as both games went into extra innings. I was sure the Mets were going to lose because they kept doing the exact wrong thing. But the hero of September 2022 for the Mets, a man who is not known for heroics, the third baseman Escobar, came to the plate in the 10th inning and hit the ball into left field, and the shortstop, Lindor, who was on second base, came around third, as the ball was coming to the plate, but the throw was off and the shortstop scored and there was pandemonium everywhere. And meanwhile in the other game, the Braves were losing, so as they say it was a win-wn. But I'm not sure I can stand the stress of the post-season that's starting in a week, but actually feels as if is already underway. #
Wouldn't it be nice if there were a group of bloggers, people who write regularly, who are friends but might view things differently, but agree to read each other's pieces and speak up if they had something to say. They would know what they said would be read by other bloggers. #
Another story. When I was in grad school, in Wisconsin, I lived in a house with nine other students, on West Wilson St, overlooking Lake Monona and a park with tennis courts. It was the best time of my life. Always a party to come home to, and I loved the work I was doing with computers at the university, and I had a cat named Nurse, who I brought with me to Madison from NYC. She was a great cat. When I adopted her from a cat lady in an apartment on the east side of Manhattan, who had at least 50 cats in her small apartment, she pointed out this kitten who was protecting a sickly cat from the others. That's the one I took, and I called her Nurse because that's what she was when I met her. Anyway, in Madison, Nurse found a boyfriend, I guess, and she got pregnant, and had her kittens in the big house on West Wilson. I gave her a box in the corner of my room, and people were coming in all the time to see and touch the incredible kittens she had birthed. But one morning, they were all gone! The box was empty. No Nurse, no kittens! I did eventually find her, in a drawer in my dresser which I had left open, with some socks and stuff, there she was. I didn't tell anyone because her intention was clear. Then a few days later, kittens everywhere! Nurse was sitting somewhere off on her own and the kittens were discovering all aspects of the big house they were born in and all the people. A couple of days later we put them up for adoption and Nurse went to the vet to get fixed, and when she came home they were gone and she went on with her life hunting mice and birds. #