Turtles All The Way Down

One of my favorite stories, probably apocryphal, is about a little old English lady at an astronomy lecture. The lecturer described how the earth orbits around the sun and how the sun, in turn, orbits around the center of an immense collection of stars––our galaxy––and gravity and centrifugal forces keep everything in its proper place.

At the end of the lecture our little old lady said, “You are wrong, young man. The world [being flat] is supported on the back of a giant tortoise.”

The lecturer asked her what, then, was the tortoise standing on.

Unfazed, she replied, “You think you are very clever young man, but it is turtles all the way down.”

This, arguably, is a cosmological system with more aesthetic appeal than spinning spheres.

I love this story because it speaks to my ability to have unshakable beliefs that make no sense to anyone else––beliefs, I hope, that are less radical than turtles. And, of course, it speaks to beliefs that others hold that make no sense to me. I’ll let you come up with your own examples.

I recently watched a television news piece about Saul Perlmutter, one of the 2011 recipients of the Nobel Prize in Physics, which caused me to re-evaluate our English friend. Before he described his discovery that the expansion of the universe was accelerating he backed up to explain that the universe is infinite. He said to imagine going out from the Earth in any direction (in fact in every direction) and you would find a galaxy, and then another one farther still, and another, and so on forever, without end!

Our Lady may have got the flat Earth assumption wrong, and we can safely say that she was off the mark about the turtles, but she appears to have nailed the “all the way down” concept of infinity.

I know about infinity, and yet I failed to see that she was one-third correct. I dismissed everything she said out-of-hand, in a lump, because I found parts of it fanciful.

I’ve got to stop doing that. I need to guard against ignoring everything someone says because I don’t agree with some part of what they say.

Share

In Memoriam (at The Spot)

Love is acknowledged in many ways and I get happy when I find a new one.

The Spot is a great walk-up burger joint two blocks off the beach on Linden Avenue in Carpenteria, California. I eat there every time I visit my father. The people at The Spot don’t know me from Adam, but if I lived in Carpinteria I would be a regular.

I don’t believe I ever saw David Winneguth, the man in the photograph. I only eat at The Spot once a year (ortega chili burger, fries, diet Coke no ice). I will probably never know any more about him other than the information posted at The Spot.

But he was known to the people there, who honored him by placing his celebration of life notice prominently and surrounding it with how they knew him: “hot dog/must, choc shake”.

I think of David as a well-loved regular who’s consistent smile was one the order-takers could rely on amidst the hit and miss of sometimes grumpy customers.

What an accolade to be remembered because of a smile and, I am sure from his smile, a kind disposition.

A smile is such a simple act––one that has such a pleasant effect on people.

Years ago I decided to smile all of the time. The first week was hard and I had to constantly remind myself to keep smiling––and then it became a habit. People who didn’t know me referred to me as the guy who smiled all the time. Almost every person I met smiled in return. I was like the Johnny Appleseed of smiles––for awhile. I don’t remember why I stopped.

I like to think that David Winneguth never stopped smiling.

Share

Why Doesn’t The Thought Count?

Isn’t it the thought that counts? Usually not for much!

Was it a man who invented the rationalization  “It’s the thought that counts” to cover his failure to do something important? Or was it a woman who invented it to cover for a man’s failure?

Either way what’s important is that thoughts are worthless––they don’t exist outside of the thinker’s mind and they don’t count for anything––unless they lead to actions. Actions (and inactions) are what count because they are what people experience.

Let’s run some scenarios:

He says, “I meant to get you a gift.”

She thinks, “He didn’t just forget. He knew what was expected and still didn’t follow through.”

He says, “I tried to get you a gift.”

She thinks, “How hard can it be?” and “How important am I anyway?”

He says, “It’s the thought that counts, dear.”

She thinks, “Why didn’t he follow through?”

Better to say you screwed up and are sorry and you will do your best to see that it doesn’t happen again. Fallen on your sword with an apology is required; but the whole mess leaves a hollow place in the love.

And if you have really tried and failed, make your failed effort the gift. One of my father’s best friends tried for years to get him some Tompkins County King apples––his favorite from his childhood fifty years earlier. Several Christmases in a row his gift was the correspondence (pre-internet) of her attempts to find those apples. That showed effort and that equaled caring and love and respect for the friendship.

I have failed. The only time my mother ever yelled at me with real anger was when I returned home for Christmas without any gifts. The memory always hurts.

Now, I usually cover with something less adequate until I can make it right. In a pinch I have drawn a picture of a gift with an explanation of my efforts and when I expect those efforts to produce results.

Offering nothing where something is supposed to be leaves a gaping hole!

It is the effort that counts only when the effort produces results!

Thinking, no matter how well intentioned, will only get you in trouble if that is all you did.

The thought, unpursued, is an insult.

Share

The Sun And The Moon

Ah, the love (or perhaps the guilt) that makes us promise the sun and the moon to our loved ones. What wouldn’t we do?

The problem is what we don’t do!

Would you rather be promised . . . whatever . . . and end up receiving more than you were promised? Or would you rather be promised a bigger . . . whatever . . . and get less than what you were promised?

Your partner is the same.

It is always better to be pleasantly surprised when a partner exceeds the expectation he or she created than to be disappointed by their failure to do what was promised.

Don’t create expectations you can’t, or aren’t, going to meet. Don’t set yourself up to be a failure and disappoint your partner. You are only going to do as much as you are going to do anyway.

Unmet expectations can ruin anything––and sometimes everything. Always do more than you promise, never less.

Speak modestly––

Act extravagantly––

 

Share

Two Kinds Of People

There are people who believe there are two kinds of people and those who don’t. Who is right? Let’s peek over the fence and see.

Let’s say, for example, I believe there are two kinds of people and you don’t. So what! Or the opposite, you believe there are two kinds of people and I don’t. Ditto!

I believe there have always been two kinds of people––where never the twain shall meet.

And it never can meet because each person’s certainty about what-is (and how-things-should-be-done) is, at bottom, a belief.  And a belief, any belief, e.g., religious, political, moral, what–is, how-things-should-be-done, can’t be changed by rational argument. There is no argument that will convince a person who already believes there is no argument that can challenge what they believe to change his or her mind.

When I try to convince someone of my superior reasoning, or save them from an obvious (to me) error, I am tilting at windmills, wasting my time, and being rude. I have never gotten along with know-it-alls and I cringe when I find myself explaining to someone else why my way of thinking is best.

So in the end, for me, there really are only two kinds of people: me and you.

––and I just love you for your nutty ideas.

Share

Baby Bottle Cure

You can see from her picture that she turned out fine.

When my daughter Caroline was four she wouldn’t go to bed without her blanket and a bottle. The blanket was still age appropriate and easy to find at bedtime. But her bottle was becoming an easily misplaced obsession. Too many nights of searching and tears had her, her mother, and me frustrated.

Her mother and I tried many ways to get her to give up the bottle, including withholding it until she got over it. None of us could go even one night without the bottle.

Then I had an idea. I started to whisper things to her mother while we each cast discrete looks in Caroline’s direction. Nothing overt. Just the kind of things parents do that a child eventually notices and wants to know what is going on.

When Caroline asked we said, “Oh, nothing. We were just wondering if you were old enough.”

“Old enough for what?”

“For your bottle throwing-away party.”

“PARTY?

“Yes, party. When someone is old enough and it is time to stop having a bottle at bedtime there is a party to celebrate. You know, with a cake and presents.”

“Presents? I’m ready!” she said.

We said, “We’re not sure, but you sure seem close. We’ll keep checking on you while you decide if you are really ready to give up your bottle.”

Several weeks later we all decided she was ready and set a date for the party the following week. During that time we talked about growing up, and change, and used the dialogue to see if she really was letting go of her bottle. Also during this time we didn’t give her any pressure at all about the bottle.

At the party we had cake and presents. Then I made a big show of going out and bringing in the trashcan. Caroline picked up her bottle, which had been sitting with a ribbon on it in a place of honor on the table, and threw it in the trash. We all smiled and laughed and clapped and I took the trashcan out. (I stashed the bottle in case my plan didn’t work.)

The party and play continued until it was time for bed. I got her ready––helped her with her PJs, found her blanket, tucked her in, told her I loved her, told her I was proud of her growing up, and said good night.

She looked up at me and said, “Bottle?”

Fortunately I laughed. Then she laughed too, snuggled in, and went to sleep. I think that was the first I’m-growing-up-back-at-you joke I ever got from her––but maybe she was just checking.

The bottle was never again an issue.

Share

The Three-Month Rule

When my daughter was in Elementary School she would occasionally have a problem with a teacher or one of her classmate friends that she couldn’t fix. She would complain and she and I would talk about it. If she was the cause of the problem, I would suggest different behaviors she could try that might help. She was at an age where she believed what I said and would march back to school and put my advice to work.

After several days she would tell me that it wasn’t working; the teacher or the friend were treating her the same way as before. It was like they hadn’t noticed she had changed.

So I created the Three-Month Rule.

The Three-Month Rule states that once you change your behavior it will take people three months to notice that you have changed and start treating you differently. Once a person has made a decision about you they won’t change it based on a few days of improved behavior. You are going to have to create a consistent change that they can learn to rely on.

Three months was an arbitrary choice, but it had two good effects. First, it let my daughter know that there were consequences to poor behavior that would take time to fix. Second, in grade school almost everything gets resolved in less than three months.

The rule also gave her the framework to evaluate other people’s changed behavior and begin to treat them differently sooner when they seemed committed to the change.

I use the Three-Month Rule myself. For adults, however, sometimes the three-month duration needs to be extended.

Share

(Something Like) Man Up!

Mutual friends suggested that I ask a couples therapist to read A Clueless Man’s Guide To Relationships and tell me what she thinks. If you follow me at all you will soon learn that women are more favorably disposed to A Clueless Man’s Guide To Relationships than men; who usually fall between mildly nonplussed and wildly skeptical. So her interim comments during a chance encounter when she was half way through the book were disappointingly confirming.

What she didn’t say is that I may have the wrong title. But when she held the book up during a gathering of couples therapists a groan went up. If I remember correctly this group of therapists is divided into two camps concerning how to approach and engage the husband in counseling. She and one male couples’ therapist don’t believe in codling the man, while all of the others do. Apparently the consensus of the group is that men are too . . . something . . . to handle the truth about where they are and what needs to be done to fix it. I would guess this is also because they are usually the unwilling partner to the therapy.

Men are also more sensitive to anything that smacks of criticism and their defensive walls can become impermeable at the slightest threat. I have some sympathy for the men because I was the same; but it was the forceful presentation of the sad facts about my flaws that pushed me through to a better marriage.

Perhaps there is a body of research that proves this is the only way to successfully deal with men’s relationship problems; and perhaps there is further research that says you can’t even tell them they are the delicate flowers of the relationship without damaging the therapy’s chances of succeeding. I hope not.

At times, life can be tough: relationships can be hard. I would like to see the weaker sex in relationships (men) face the hard facts as well as they do in other aspects of their lives. And I would like to know that couples therapists are holding them to the task.

Share

Pet Advice

This is not advice about pet care. This is about relationship advice you can get from a pet.

Have you ever asked a dog what time it is? When I ask a dog what time it is I always get the same answer –– “Now!” And I usually get a bemused look, like “Why would you even need to ask that question?” or “This is a rhetorical question, right?”

It seems there is no past or future of importance to a dog. The only questions in a dog’s life are, “What is happening now?” or “What are we going to do now?” (Or, is it time to eat?) From a dog’s perspective to ask what time it is is just a waste of time, “Come on, let’s do something!”

While “now-is-all-there-is” is an often-ignored truism for humans (“Yeah right! So What?”) dogs understand intuitively that they live in the now all of the time.

That is why I love them. They are always ready to make themselves available to me. They don’t care about the past. They don’t hold a grudge. They aren’t worried about the future. They just want to do something, anything, now.

If I don’t have time, and they aren’t sniffing or chasing or staring at something, they will rest near me and wait for me to show up in their ever-present now. Dogs are always available to do . . . anything . . . 24/7 –– and it feels like love to me.

Dogs have “now” focus that I can’t begin to duplicate. Those few times I do remember to be available right “now”, 100%, to someone I love, they light up like it’s a holiday. I don’t have to do it often to create a lot of love. But if I don’t do it at all I am cheating myself; and I am cheating them.

Woof!

Share