What I Should Have Written in the Family Christmas Letter

At some point you have either written, received, or been unwittingly exploited by a family Christmas letter. The typical format gives about a paragraph or so to each person in the family. This time around I thought over some possibilities for my entry.

Option #1:

Michael told us in a letter last week that he's doing really well at rehab. He and his new friend Bob saved Margaret from slitting her wrists last wednesday. He has also converted to Judaism and has become lactose intolerant. Merry Christmas.

Option #2:

Michael is surfing in Vanuatu as you read this. He has started a new company that sells exotic fruit juice and smoothies and writes political satire on his successful blog (and is also a major contributor to the New York Times, the Washington Post, and advises Obama on strategy on Thursdays). He is also making real estate investments in northeastern Brazil and has purchased an island off the coast of Spain.

Option #3:

Michael is currently single. He enjoys long walks on tropical beaches after sumptuous romantic meals complete with candles and rose pedals. He is also not averse to bubble baths. His number is 657-123-4567.

Fortunately I wrote something way better than all of that, but you won't get to read it unless you're on the family Christmas letter mailing list.

Happy Fourth of July!: Independence vs. Dependence

Happy fourth of July! I hope you all are enjoying, or planning on enjoying some delicious BBQ with friends and family, then watching some fireworks somewhere (maybe even lighting of few of your own). But, let's not forget that while those things are fun, tasty, etc., they are not what this day is all about. This day is about independence. It is about freedom. It is about making a choice to believe in the unlimited capacity of the human spirit.

This is not dependence day. We do not need the government to provide us with internet, healthcare, retirement benefits, or anything but the opportunity to get those things ourselves. Tell me - was the iphone created because some lawmaker appropriated funds to some government entity and told them to create the world's coolest phone? Tell me - did the best computers in the world come about because of the government? Tell me - Did we become the largest, most innovative economy in the world because of government regulation and intervention? No. It was because of freedom. It was because our forefathers believed that private individuals live happiest and produce the most when they are not tethered to an oppressive government. That is why we separated from England!

In America everyone can be great. We encourage, and offer the opportunity from the bottom up, not top down. Stifling success to spread wealth and make everyone equal just lowers the quality of life and possibilities for everyone. However, letting people be free to innovate, create, be self-motivated, responsible, and allowing them to believe in themselves will make everyone prosperous. It has for 230 plus years. Let's maintain that trend.

God Bless America! Happy Birthday Lady Liberty!

Being Reasonably Unreasonable

It's been a while since I've waxed philosophical. I'm expecting some readers, upon reading that last sentence to be groaning. Just like when your mother offered you some new healthy food alternative or told you to do your chores. "Look, it's muslix!" Or, "I know something fun you could do - weed the garden!" Well, this philosophical waxing will be even better. Think eating muslix and weeding the garden at the same time. I bet you're giddy.

I will start with a quote from Lord Byron, although some people might argue that it wasn't he who said it:

"The heart has reasons that reason does not understand."

I want to let that sit. Like butter melting on your hot pancakes. Wait. Do not think yet. The butter needs to melt.

Ok. What that means, is that reason cannot always be the ultimate arbiter in human affairs. It has limitations as does everything in our finite existence. We often laud ourselves or others for their even-keeled rationality and careful deliberation, and lambast others who do not use logic to deduce the best answer. Well I'm hear to say that is folly. While quite often you might think that reason appeals to everyone, everywhere, all the time, the truth is, it doesn't. There is truth (if we assume right now that that is the goal of reason, to attain truth) in art, poetry, music, love, and irrationality as a whole. But I suppose saying all that begs another question. What is irrational? And can we at times act rationally while doing something seemingly irrational? The answer is yes. Because, while saving one's brother or mother from harm might seem rational, unconnected with anything else, if it comes down to saving one's brother versus saving an entire village, rationality would have us choose the village. Perhaps that isn't the best example but it brings me to an important point. The truth that escapes reason is the truth of the particular, the love of one's own, the value in honor. The truth that reason strives for is abstract, general, and universal. The problem is, we cannot reasonably say one is always better. Reason wouldn't allow it. Or would it?

I do not want to ask too many questions. But what I do want to point out is that passion, emotion, art, love, instinct, yearning and many more things fall outside the realm of reason and yet are just as, if not at times more important than reason. Being reasonable is balancing your reason with your irrationality. Here is an example that will appeal to you:

Let's say you go to a family reunion. At this reunion everyone poses for a group picture. In this picture everyone is wearing coordinated outfits, is smiling, and has a marvelously picturesque background behind them. The photographer snaps the picture. But, the picture doesn't really satisfy. It doesn't hold the whole truth, as truthful as the camera lens has been to its subjects. Now, a little later, a painter takes that photograph and repaints the family. In his painting little kids are running around pulling on skirt hems and a grotchity uncle is elbowing someone next to him, and Aunt Edna is sticking her tongue out in disdain. While none of this happened while the picture was taken, it more accurately describes the family, its temperament, and reality as a whole. Extrapolating from this example you can see how simple rationality does not get at the whole, or, gets at only the edges of the whole and not the parts.

Now, enjoy your muslix, and I'll be back in a little while to check on the garden.

Christmas Airport SNAFU: Lost and Found

As many of you know, I try to keep things interesting. And, yesterday when I flew into Dulles International airport was no exception. Let's just say me and Murphy's law seem to be intimately acquainted.

After getting off the plane with my brother and greeting all the family at the baggage claim, I put my carry on down beside carousel 14 so I could pick up our luggage. The luggage seemed to take forever to come out, but I grabbed both of our duffle bags and off we went. My brother had his carry on, and I had the big bags. My mother and sister were just giddy that we had arrived safely. Well, as you may have guessed, my carry on was left next to the baggage carousel. Of course I didn't discover this until a little before midnight, as I was going to charge my cell phone. I looked for my carry on (in which I carried my charger) and then realized I didn't have it. 

My first impulse was to check the surburban that we drove home in. I combed it twice to no avail. Then, I called my brother who was visiting a family friend with the other car. He checked, but again, no luck. So, I told my mom and dad, who then told me I needed to call the airport. So I googled 'Dulles International Airport' and got a number for the TSA lost and found. I got a lengthy explanatory message with instructions regarding baggage. TSA only kept items lost at check points. Any bags left on or near carousels were picked up by airport lost and found or the airlines. So I called the airport lost and found and got a similar message. On both occasions I left a message. I also drove back to the airport last night and spoke with Delta. They were clueless, but I thanked them anyway. I would just have to come back today, which I did.

The operating hours of the lost and found on Saturday are from 10am-2:00pm, so I was out the door a little after 9:30am. When I arrived at the airport I first went to the TSA lost and found, because it was the only one open. I waited for a while, then overheard the lady in charge say to a family in front of me who lost a bag in the baggage claim area that it was airport lost and found that was responsible for their bag I also took my leave with them from the TSA office and waited for someone to show up at the other office. Seeing no one there I went to a little shop called 'Guava and Java' and got myself a cup of hot chocolate. The temperature was good and so was the chocolate. So, I sipped that as I walked back to the airport lost and found office. 

When I got there it was open and there was the family again. They were referred to the airlines with their problem. Also in front of me was an African immigrant or missionary of some kind. He was looking for a bag that he lost containing his bible. Luckily for him, he found it. Then it was my turn. I talked to the guy running the place and he told me to look down this one aisle in the back that held all of December's lost items. I looked up and down the rack. I saw nothing that even remotely resembled my bag. I looked down to the ground slightly depressed and began to speak, "Well, if it weren't here, where else might I expect to find it..." but just as I asked the question I looked at the swivel chair behind his desk. "Wait, that's my bag," I said. But at the same time I was worried that it was actually his. I thought maybe he might have the exact same bag. Silly thought in retrospect, but I was about to ask him just as he asked me its contents. I told him that it should contain my laptop which was a macbook adorned with stickers from different countries. He then ripped of the tag, had my sign it, show ID, and I was on my merry way. 

And so my Christmas vacation starts of with a bang. A good old airport SNAFU. Gotta love it.

What is your perspective?

How important is perspective? How important is attitude? Can one overcome the other? Are they the same?

I would insist that we all have different perspectives on life, politics, religion, sports, family, banana cream pie, teatherball, compost piles, milk jugs, and Marfan's syndrome. We develop our perspectives from within and without. We can only partially affect them. We don't choose what we see, or even always in what light we see it, but our attitude can spin it for us, and even change reality as we know it. Here are a few good examples to frustrate you:

Is it a cube? Is it a box? Are you a cube? A box? Or a square? 

The answer is yes.

On which set of stairs do you find yourself? Do you even take the stairs? Did you know that going up stairs is better on your knees than going down? Are you bald with no face like Escher's people in this drawing?

Are you looking at the painting? Or is the painting looking at you? Or are you looking at a painting of someone looking at a painting that is also looking at him, and possibly you? Do you prefer nyquil or codine?

Think about it. Just like the Flight of the Conchords prescribe.

Discovering male close family that dress as women

I have always had respect for a certain member of my immediate family. He studied hard, worked hard, ate well (as in healthy food, not necessarily large quantities), and has for most of his life been admirably normal. Well, not normal, but admirably great in the normal way of being great.

Well, I have recently re-thought that admiration. You see, I was on facebook, as is my custom, and saw a few interesting photographs. This family member was tagged in them, but I couldn't really see him. Well, not as I expected to see him anyway. What I did see was a very top heavy woman with little poise and plenty of floozy mannerisms. What I saw was a drag queen. 

I spoke to him about it and he said it was for a contest, and that he had won it. Well, as much as I like a winner, I don't know if winning that contest was really a win for him. His mentality was, "Well, if I was going to look like that I was going all out, and I was in it to win it, otherwise it would have all been for nothing." 

Winning. 

You chose winning over redefining your life-long image of masculinity. Thank you for that. You left me with great pictures to show your future children. I promise I will use them. Frequently.

You Aren't REALLY Listening.

Let me start off by making a glittering general statement and blanket coverall assumption like I have done so many times:

We all think we're pretty clear communicators.

Here's the reality:

We aren't.

Even the best of communicators struggle in some of the seemingly simplest situations. For great examples look at people's close relationships: Good friends and family. And what are the two things that make those situations hard? 

For one we don't just communicate with our words. We communicate with metamessages. For those of you who don't know what a metamessage is, it's the message we send to someone behind what we say. It can come in the form on inflection, body language, facial expressions, or implicit positions that the other party supposedly already knows about. And, it's obvious to see why that would tend to complicate things more often in a close relationship. Your close friends and family know you. They know your tendencies, opinions, attitudes, etc. And, while you might think that would help them understand you better, often times it just gets in the way with what you really want to say.

The second problem is intrinsically related to the first. Instead of focusing on what you're saying, or even allowing you to speak, a close friend or family member will "interpret" using what they believe you want to say, or what they believe you are thinking. This means that they take a position on what you've said before you've said it, or if you've said it, they aren't hearing what you said, but what they think you wanted to say.

So, having identified the problem in this part of the blog post you might expect me to give a remedy. Well, I don't have one. I could blather on about how we should temper our use of preconceived notions about close friends and family so we actually hear them, instead of hearing what we think they are saying, but there's no clean cut way to do that. I'm sure we're all going to run into brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, grandparents, in-laws, and friends who will not let us say our piece, and when we do say it, they will have thought we meant something else. That's just life. But, perhaps if you've found yourself with this problem, you can refer them to this post so they can at least identify that what they are doing, and maybe give you a fair shake. 

That being said. It's not just their problem. It's yours too. And mine.

PS - I sure hope my brother reads this.

I'm inflammatory

It was Sunday. I was en route to a dinner with friends, and my friend Bob* was on his cell phone. I overhead him saying, "Oh, yeah. I know. Well Michael's right here, you want to talk to him? Ok."

So I get the phone. It is Bob's and my mutual friend Georgina*. We dispense with pleasantries, then I say, "I read your blog all the time." To which she replies, "I read yours sometimes, but it's really inflammatory." Then she said, "Come to think of it, you're pretty inflammatory, and I don't know why I'm saying this, but yeah." So I said, "Could it be because we're on the phone and you can't say it to my face?" To which she said, "I think that proves my point. I don't think I could say it to your face."

So I'm inflammatory. I get that. In some ways that is fair. Everything I touch burns. It's a general statement, but it could easily be agreed upon by more than one person I'm sure. So not long after the phone call, I thought of how I could maintain my newly discovered 'inflammatory' status. Well, the most obvious thing is to react adversely and take the opposite position on anything and everything anyone around me says, and then do all that is humanly possible to get a rise out of them. But I think it would probably be even more fun to be literal. I could let out my inner 'Pyro' and burn things. Now that would be fun.

But before I indulge in either of those possible methods, I would like to break down my own psyche for the average reader. I am a student of political science, philosophy, and I love good arguments (not screaming contests, but methodically logical/sometimes flawed discourse), and debate. For example, to this point in college I have taken three parliamentary and world debate classes, and I am currently taking a class on Alexis de Tocqueville and another class on the philosophy of the social sciences. What that entails is a lot of reading, digestion of information, and then a careful, logical, analysis, often followed by discussion in class. Now this discussion is not heated. I in fact find it quite easy to detach my emotions and biases to look at the merits of the arguments. Philosophically I like to deconstruct arguments and poke holes in them, putting forth my best critiques not to detract from the other side, but to understand it better. If I do not put forth a good argument, I expect my fellow students will find its flaws and help reconstruct or negate it thoroughly. Again, it's hardly personal. In order to get the best feedback and counter-arguments, I have found that I need to put forth a good, well-conceived argument of my own. 

Now here's the problem. With this mindset, often times I take umbrage with friends, colleagues, and family members when they put forth weak arguments. I sometimes unwittingly offend, because I'm trying to understand their argument, and so I question, and even brashly challenge their line of reasoning. But instead of getting it handed to me, and hearing a good argument in return, as I would with my political science/debate/philosophy student colleagues, I get a flustered response and often times extremely bothered friends or family members.

So I am a confrontational person. I know I should let more things go, and remove myself from the philosopher/debater mindset sometimes. But, for now I think I'll just light things on fire, and apologize with a bucket of icy water.

*note: real names not used to protect the people who think I'm inflammatory

Stop the melodrama!

Melodrama. Ideally, given how it sounds, it should be a moderate or 'mellow' type of drama. Of course even more ideally, it would be nice if there was no drama at all. But alas, melodrama disappoints. Again. And again.

In my family, I am proud to announce that we are very good at melodrama. Molehills become mountains, mice become elephants, and a stain on a shirt becomes a ruined life (there is oxiclean).

Generally, most of us in my family are pretty chill. I would even say 'mellow'. And some of our coping strategies, like mine are: "I'm not dead, I'm moderately healthy, I have friends and family, and I'm doing the best I can right now with what I've got." Then there are other strategies like this one: "I need everything in my life to run like clockwork; because I have absolutely perfectionist standards nothing ever goes right and I will take my self-induced stress out on everyone." It is very difficult to choose which is more healthy. I prefer the latter. Why? Because I can compare it to my life and breathe easy. 

I don't like to see people stressed out, and I don't like to see people suffer (especially close family), but it is nice to see that I have developed successful life-coping skills. Armageddon is not upon us because we are 6 minutes late to lunch, or if we get stuck in traffic. Life happens (while we are making other plans). Now, that does not mean we all should be lazy and unproductive, but it means we need to have balance. When some load of crap gets piled on our plate, instead of whining about it, pouting, and throwing a hissy fit, we can grin resourcefully and dump it on our garden, using it as fertilizer. As cliche as it sounds, when life gives you lemons, squeeze them in the eyes of someone who is stressing out for no reason, and laugh at them. Then maybe you'll start a fight with them - win or lose - they will probably forget about what was stressing them out in the first place.