My Birthday, Your Opportunity.

It's that annual moment of decision: choosing how to convey birthday greetings to a good friend (in this case, me). You can choose Option A, which involves some effort, or Option B, which requires nearly none. The salient thing to realize is that while your choice nominally appears to reflect on the friend, what it really reveals is YOUR character. How you choose to act is who you are. Who do you want to be?

Option A

Your friend has a birthday coming up soon (Nov. 3). You can:

1. Examine your relationship with the friend, assess its value to you, and ponder how he would react to a kind gesture. Taking into account the recent circumstances and experiences of the friend is encouraged. Also relevant are whether the friend sent you a birthday card in the past and remembering how you felt receiving one.

2. Decide to send that friend a real birthday greeting. No, not an online click but an actual card. Made of paper. Possibly humorous. Signed by hand. Mailed with a stamp.

3. Imagine your friend laughing at the funny card in his hand, feeling grateful for the effort you made to send it, and ultimately warmed by a little love from you. Imagine that. Is that a world you want to live in? Where friends love each other? You can create it. Or not. Shape the world by your actions.

4. With three weeks available plan your approach. Contemplate which nearby stores sell cute cards. Figure out when you'll be swinging by one of them. There's plenty of time to include a store visit in your life so there's no inconvenience.

5. Arrive at the store. Look through the cards, chuckling often. Select a card whose message and imagery you believe the recipient will enjoy. Feel proud of your knowledge of the friend's sense of humor.

6. Take the card home. A week or so before B-day pull the card out, laugh again at its humor and sign your name to the card. If inclined add a short note.

7. Find the friend's address and write it on the envelope. If necessary, you can ask him; he'll be happy to supply it. Record the information so you won't be flummoxed in the future.

8. Before dropping the card off at the Post Office or mailbox put a stamp on the envelope. If you don't have a stamp, get thee to a nunnery! Actually, that was in Shakespeare's time: today we buy stamps at the Post Office. Ask the teller which interesting stamps are available. If you plan ahead you can buy super-cool stamps online from the Postal Service, such as new ones celebrating Route 66 and car culture.

9. Mail the card. Sit back and relax. Feel proud of yourself.

10. Enjoy a deeper friendship from which you will get a reciprocal birthday card in the future.

Option B

Foregoing the above effort, on the day of my birthday you can merely "like" a Facebook post mentioning me. That's all: one click. Job done, obligation fulfilled.

Yes, that's easy, requires no planning, but... you'll know, in your heart of hearts, you could have done more. Pushed a little harder, expended a little effort. Shown your friend you truly care and not just performed this social act in the laziest possible way.

As with all of life, the choice is yours. No one else dictates how you should behave (unless your mother is still alive). Remember your life is what you choose to make it... and no more. Your relationships are only as deep as you respect them. Act with care.

New Job

Sometimes when we learn new words we don't merely improve our vocabulary but actually expand our knowledge. An example of this were my discoveries last year of the differences between: (1) a mystic and a shaman and (2) an anchorite/anchoress (male/female), hermit and monk.

A mystic travels inward for spiritual awakening, seeking unity with nature or the divine. A shaman, by contrast, looks outward and acts as spiritual leader for a community. 

While both explore non-ordinary realms and ultimate truths, they possess different focuses and use different methods. Mystics rely on quiet contemplation, prayer and solitary meditation. Shamans enter altered states of consciousness through psychedelics, drumming or chants. Mystics are solitary; shamen are social leaders mediating between physical and spirit worlds.

So what are anchorites/anchoresses, hermits and monks? Well, the difference lies in where they live. An anchorite/anchoress spends all his/her time in a tiny walled cell attached to a church. They never leave the cell (called an anchorhold). Hermits live alone in the wilderness and retain freedom to move around. Monks live in groups with other monks.

You may wonder why I was inquiring about these things. I was considering new job opportunities and living arrangements.  😇

"Breezy"

A surprising number of films are overlooked for reasons other than lack of merit. Some are poorly marketed, some are foolishly pulled from distribution for business decisions unrelated to art (e.g., to create a tax loss).

One such film is "Breezy", a 1973 labor of love by Clint Eastwood. Clint directs the movie but doesn't appear in it. The film was barely released and obviously not marketed properly. The studio didn't get behind the film so it died at the box office despite getting good critical reviews. This fate is unfortunate because the film is certainly worth watching. Happily it's now available on streaming (Amazon Prime).

The story is about a jaded older man (in his fifties) who encounters a drifting young woman (20-ish). After several encounters the two slowly fall in love despite the older man's skepticism. This is certainly a May-December romance but handled with more delicacy than usual. Also there's significant nudity which is sensitively presented. The actors are well-known: William Holden and then-newcomer Kay Lenz. (Three years later Lenz married teen heart-throb David Cassidy of "The Partridge Family." Her star went up, his went down and their marriage crumbled as a result.)

I enjoyed this film. The acting is superb and the plot plausible. A romance with a happy ending, something rare these days.

Catwoman

I admit this freely -- when I was nine years old I fell in love with Julie Newmar, an actress who played Catwoman on the "Batman" TV show (1966-67). I found Catwoman irresistibly beautiful. When, on the show, she fell into a vat of acid and died, I sobbed. Real tears. Tears of inconsolable grief.

After her successful acting career Julie achieved additional heights in other fields. She invented several products -- for which she received three U.S. patents -- and brokered high-end real estate in California. She prospered from both endeavors.

Julie is still alive today. She's 93 years old and reasonably healthy. She has a neurological condition that limits her mobility so she uses a scooter but she's mentally sound. Julie lives with and cares for her adult son who is both deaf and has Downs Syndrome. They spend their days gardening and painting colorful pictures. She says they're very happy.

Six decades after "Batman" I'm still in love with Julie Newmar. :)

Believe it or not Julie has a new book coming out next month. It's called "More Than Catwoman: The Fearless Lives of Julie Newmar." In her memoir Julie "invites readers to live fearlessly at every age." You can pre-order a copy on Amazon. I did.

Confront Life

“Do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?” asks writer Elizabeth Gilbert. "[W]e are all walking repositories of buried treasure....The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them."

The hunt to uncover those jewels is living creatively. The courage to go on that quest separates an enchanted existence from a mundane one.

Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) believed confronting difficulty is essential to a fulfilling life. In 1873 he wrote:

"Any human being who does not wish to be part of the masses need only stop making things easy for himself. Let him follow his conscience, which calls out to him: 'Be yourself!'"

"There is no way to help any soul attain...happiness...so long as it remains shackled with the chains of opinion and fear....How hopeless and meaningless life can become without such a liberation. There is no drearier, sorrier creature in nature than the man who has evaded his own genius."

As Picasso advised “to know what you’re going to draw, you have to begin drawing.” Nietzsche counsels:

"No one can build you the bridge on which you, and only you, must cross the river of life. There may be countless trails and bridges and demigods who would gladly carry you across, but only at the price of pawning and forgoing yourself. There is one path in the world that none can walk but you. Where does it lead? Don’t ask, walk!"

I hear ya, Freddie.

Vermont

Robin and I just returned from a trip to rural Vermont. We visited casual acquaintances and transformed them into good friends. Plus we visited a terrific "sugarbush" (Morse Farm) where we tasted delicious maple syrup and hot sauce.

It was our first time travelling since recent medical cataclysms. We learned how difficult some activities are now. For example, in the past I performed ALL piloting of our cars and motorcycles -- and was well-accustomed to the aggravation and exhaustion of fighting traffic near NYC. For Robin, that was a new experience. She had a tough time with it: at one point (when a dashboard warning light popped on) Robin wanted to turn the car around and return home. I needed to calm her down and reassure that all's fine and safe. In the past she may have taken for granted the effort I'd put into our travel.

A benefit of the trip was stimulating conversation about where we'd like to live in the future. New England has always appealed to me and is now a leading contender. Only when you visit the area do you see its immense contrast to suburban New York. Less traffic, less rude people, less expense and more beautiful country. Our new friends live on nine acres -- NINE ACRES! -- for less than our house with 0.15 acres costs. Whew.

In Pursuit Of A Bagel

It's possible to find adventure anywhere if you try hard enough.

This morning I woke up at 4:30 a.m. (which is not unusual) and decided to walk a mile to a bagel store to buy their fine bread product. If you arrive when the store opens at 5 a.m. there's no line of customers -- that annoyance starts later on Sunday mornings. Despite being on one of Long Island's busiest commercial roads (Route 110), the store and streets are empty this early except for Spanish-speaking staff at the store. They always greet me enthusiastically but probably wonder "What's this gringo doing up so early? This is when only we have to be out of bed."

Did I mention that, at this hour, it's pitch-black? (Sunrise is 6:32 a.m.) Did I mention that it is pouring rain? (I brought an umbrella.) Heading out I anticipated (correctly) that my feet would get soaked up to the calves (multiple unseen puddles) and my ankles were at constant risk of getting sprained from ubiquitous potholes on the edge of the roadway. (There's no sidewalk.)

I make it to the store, succeed with the purchase, and head home. All good, right? Not exactly. Remember the dark streets? Heavy rain? Mr. Magoo eyesight?

I reach home -- or what I think is my home and... What the...? It's not my house. The number on the mailbox is mine but it definitely is not my house. Hmm... After walking up and down the street a few times I finally realize I turned down the wrong block. This is not Somerset Street. In the darkness I can't see anything except mailboxes so I didn't suspect my mistake until now. Okay, so I walk around, find the right block and am finally able to peel off soaked sneakers, socks and pants. All this for a bagel.

I didn't expect the expedition to be so challenging, but that's life in the slow lane.