A Brief Treatise on Happiness

Because they are often fleeting, I realize that moments of true happiness should be treasured. These times should be recognized and respected. We sometimes take happiness for granted and only remember it in it's absence. Yes, I know this is how we define it, and that's how the concept of "perspective" works. I know, I know, but...my point here is shout to everyone: appreciate happiness when you notice it. It may not be there in a few hours, days, or weeks.

Yesterday I noticed it.

I promised myself and the universe at large that I would jot it down for the record. I quickly made note of my happiness so that even in hindsight, it would not be affected by my mood (which is not that great today, I might add. But, I have successfully captured yesterday's moment for posterity.)

So, today I follow though on my promise.


Disclaimer: The happy thoughts and opinions expressed below occurred to me on 15 October 2008 09:17:34 on a train bound for Glasgow. They are my own and not intended to tell anyone else how to be happy. I just felt the need to share and preserve.





Enjoy. I hope that you find and save some happy-moments of your own. Remember them when you are not.

1. Autumn is arriving in the Northern Hemisphere. The smell and the particular angle of the sunlight at this time of year always inspires some good cheer in me.


2. Surgery on my leg not only went extremely well, but I am apparently healing from the event very quickly. The complete absence of pain in the joint is a bit spooky, but a true source of relief and pleasure.


3. Foggy misty Rail Journey from London to Glasgow. Flatlands slowly changing to green and rocky hills. English countryside fading to Scottish wilds. Wonderful.


4. Riding in First Class, too. (Which I sprung for personally, no miles, no promotional trickery. Just a little treat for recovering from above mentioned surgery. Feels good to do that for yourself, once in awhile. Sort of like chicks and “Spa-Days.” Ha!)


5. The Spinners doing “Rubber-band Man” on my MP3 player, the full 7 minute version. It is impossible for anyone who listens to this tune to not be completely happy, possibly even inspired to boogie, just a little bit. (And of course, want to giddily distribute office products. “Thanks, Crab-man.”) UPDATE: My random-play function followed this up with XTC’s “King for a Day.” I am truly living a charmed-hour.


6. Viki, Tuesday. Enough said.


7. Alexandra can do back-flips nearly at will and completely enjoys herself while doing so. I took her to the park near our UK home and she spent 90 minutes doing just that. Giggling and smiling the whole time.


8. Max has 3 plastic dinosaur models/puzzles. He not only can get these really, really, complex little puzzles put together, but then loves to take them apart again. After re-assembly for the umpteenth time, he pretends he is their Dad. He teaches these plastic dinosaurs to read, write letters and words. (He helps them hold the pencil, of course.)


9. Max has announced that the dinosaurs actually have TWO Dad’s. Himself and me. I am honoured.


10. Complicated one here: Alex is having trouble deciding whether she will be in the Olympics for Trampoline or Gymnastics. She thinks that perhaps she will do only floor exercise for Gymnastics and fully compete in Trampoline. She also thinks this is a good idea because the USA doesn’t have a good trampoline team, but she trains in the UK. Her foresight in this impresses me, despite it being a bit premature to plan for the Olympiad. While her enthusiasm buoys my happiness, but I am not holding my breath for her to make the national team...I mean, she goes once a week for two hours. She doesn't even like to practice. I am proud of her, just the same.
    

--tomb

These Boots are Made for...oh god no, forget it...too cliché. This is about Rubber Boots. There.

We walk through a cathedral of giant oaks, maples, ash, rowan. The air literally hued green from the canopy of trees high above. The ground squishing, oozing under each of our steps as we trudge along our chosen path. The recent rain has made everything wet, droplets fall around us soaking all...all but our wonderfully protected feet, that is!

Yes, I have discovered the joy of Wellies! Woo-hoo, for Wellies, people! My feet were warm, dry, and had that super-human-bouncy rubbery feel with every fall of my foot.

I felt quite the adventurer as my son and I rambled through the local woods near our house. We carried on, nary a care for where our feet happened to tread. For they were completely encased in Road Grade Dunlop Rubber and PVC! We could go anywhere, walk through anything. Mud. Streams. Gravel. Tall Grass. Exotic and exciting, it was akin to being a jungle explorer. I half-expected young Max to turn to me, a look of dread in his eye and say:

“Too bad the Hovitos don’t know you the way I do, Belloq!”

And of course my snide reply would be,

“Yes, too bad. You could have warned them about me…if only you spoke HOVITOS!” (and then I would laugh manically.)

(For the record, Max has not seen Raiders of the Lost Ark Yet, and is not Indiana Jones. Nor am I any sort of grandiose, deifically-inclined, French Archaeologist. This little scene is merely in my head.)

But, back to my Wellies.

These are knee high rubber boots that very popular here in the UK, but do honestly look a bit silly to wear at first. In a country that gets a fair bit of rain, the people here have devised all sort of means to “get on with it” despite the weather. Certainly you are familiar with the ubiquitous British Umbrella Fetish. They always have one. There are also quite a few people who manage to produce waterproof jackets seemingly from nowhere the moment it starts to drizzle.

So then, Wellies are for going about your business, whatever it may be, without care for the muck on your feet. You are completely sealed away from all moisture. They are quite warm too. One is supposed to tuck one’s trouser legs into the boot. This effectively seals off the inside and is part of the “insulation factor”. OK, not super warm but comfortable.

In some of my older posts, you have read my lauds of glory for the many Public Foot Paths here. Well, in order to more fully enjoy the experience, you got to have a pair of Wellies to do it.

Think about how often you have found your self out for a walk/stroll/high-speed chase and you spent a great deal of time looking down to make sure you did not get your shoes too dirty. With the Wellies it doesn’t matter. I walked carefree through a known sheep pasture. Normally, this would have been a minefield requiring deft reflexes and nerves of steel. But—I had my Wellies on! Sure I felt a “softer bit of turf” occasionally, but it wasn’t on me. I didn’t care where I stepped.

When we returned home, I put the boots in the backyard and turned on the hose. In moments I had a brand new looking pair of Wellies.

The bonus that I alluded to earlier is the ENTIRE boot is made of rubber, even the soul and the heel. So, as you walk on more solid ground, you get a little bounce-back feeling that is energizing. (There is a Cloth Liner magically affixed to the inside so as to avoid that Rubber-on-skin problem. Unless you are into to that sort of thing. You know who you are.)

Currently I am actively searching for Raw Sewage to trudge though with impunity!

So, you might be asking why Big Rubber Boots are called Wellies? Well, blah, blah, blah, something to do with the duke of Wellington, and a Victorian fashion craze, Beau Brummell dandies, fops, etc, etc... Look Here.

The come in thousands of colors and designs. Bears, flowers, sports logos, camo, punk chic...and of course olive green! You name it, and it's available as a rubber boot.

I am telling you now, Get yourself a pair of these things! The freedom is worth it. When I have them on, I am unsoilable.

Unless, of course, water somehow manages to get into the top of the boot. In which case I will be wearing two small bathtubs on my feet.

--tomb

Alexandra is Nine!

Nine years ago, the universe bestowed upon me that most pleasurable of life’s challenges—a daughter. I use my little space today to wish her happiness on this anniversary of her arrival on the planet.





Today she is nine.



Alex is beautiful and bright.
Fiery and funny. Complex and Cuddly.

Revels in attention,
Yet shy when she notices she’s been noticed.


Alex is activist and active.
Weird and wild. Interested and interesting.

Winces (whines) at injustice,
But occasionally incorrect about cause or intent.


She negotiates every judgement, and doggedly seeks answers to her questions.

All of them.

She loves music, she loves animals, she loves books, she loves us.
And we love her.

So, The Great Pontificator(?), Orator, Ego-Aggrandizer Returns

But, was what he’s got say worth the wait? Hardly. To what do I attribute my absence from the blog-o-sphere? Afterall, I have been peppered, reproached, and aye even stung by criticism for taking such a long hiatus (sounds so much more important that way, doesn’t it?) between missives. Folks were reading my feeble prose-droppings. For that I both apologize and thank you. While it was more than simple laziness on my part as I will explain in a moment, the truth-be-told, I let it go for too long.

In the past I have attributed this to my work here in England, and that still holds. However, I have had a lingering, now festering (figuratively, not literally) medical issue that has, for lack of a better word, depressed me. I usually find my own depression weak (although I am understanding of it in others) since, “it just isn’t Tom(B), you know?” It is nearly not possible in my own coding to be down for too long. Viki gets to see this (bless her) but not too many others.

But, a bit down I’ve been. Subsequent to this, I find the time that I might have spent writing my dribs & drabs with the vain hope of my own and others’ amusement--is instead spent throwing myself on the sofa (read: TV) or even to bed a bit earlier than normal to just read a book or listen to the baseball game. (A technological miracle allows me to listen the Chicago Radio Broadcast of the White Sox on AM 670 The Score via the internet. Of course due to the Sox games being played mostly at night [i.e. 1 AM or so for me in the UK] I must listen to the previous day’s game and make a heroic attempt to not look at the final score. I’ve done it, it works.)

It’s not the sort of “being down” that anyone need concern themselves with. It’s not that kind of depressed. The fact is, I have a joint/muscle problem in my legs/hips, and I am just exhausted at the end of the day. It’s the being tired and sore bit that frustrates me. So, no bloggy-tommy, for the last few (8) months.

Honestly, whenever I got the time to sit and think about it, something else would happen—then I’d end up going to sleep or something ridiculous like that.

But now, I'm gettin' all that "fixed" and find myself feeling...anticipatory.

Anyway…my blog is back up and to help the process out, I have new entry which you can see below.

Thanks for everyone who has been asking about it. It does one’s heart good.
--tomb

Be less like the Morlocks. Come up above ground!

(MORLOCKS, For those not in the know.)

Today, I realized that I did not have a map. I did not have a guide. I did not have any reference material whatsoever, beside that which was either in my head or quickly read on the wall as I passed by.

I had the London Underground memorized! The Tube network lay before me like vast plain of opportunities. No longer need I squint at little bit of folded paper, or stand at a poster for minute upon minute tracing my route. At the very least, I have developed enough confidence in the system to know that it will pretty much get me anywhere I need to go. I hop from station to station, line to line, and pop up of out the ground like an eager little mole (did you want me to say 'beaver?'). I even have the national rail system licked. Wanna go to Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, Glasgow? Get to London Euston Station, take a Virgin Train. Wanna go to Nottingham, Newcastle, Yorkshire, etc.? Go to St. Pancras Station, take an East Anglia Train. (OK, I know there are “train-geeks” out there that will point out there are many, many other options for doing the above, and there are also many other stations to use, destinations, etc. I am just making point. Geezo!)

Recently, (let's say today…) I had to take a train up to Birmingham for business-stuff. It was on this trip that I made my realization. I simply bought a ticket and pretty much blindly (unconsciously) worked my way into London, got to Euston Station, and waited for my departure. I then woke up to the fact of how I actually got there. Basking in my new found euphoria at my London Underground skill and having spare time before departure, I stepped outside the station to get a coffee. (Yes, I could’ve had coffee inside the station but I knew there was better coffee outside. Nyah.) In my confidence-inspired bliss, I wandered outside to my coffee shop.

Then I looked around.

Then it all came crashing down upon me, like so much air explosively departing a popped balloon (read: my ego).

IS THIS ALL I REALLY KNOW?

I realized, much to my disappointment that I had no idea where anything really was ABOVE GROUND! I have no true understanding of where any of the tube stops or train stations really are—physically. I couldn’t walk from one to the other. I couldn’t wander two blocks from my coffee place and figure out where I was. (yes, I could walk backwards, duh.) Even as I travel in/out of the National rail stations on main line trains, I only see tracks. I don’t really know where Euston Station is in London, other than: “It’s a stop on the Northern Line. I can get there from Liverpool Street station, by taking the Circle or Hammersmith & City line west Moorgate, or just get of at Euston Square and walk down the street one block.” I only know that Kings Cross-St. Pancras Station is a bit south from Euston because I have to pass it on the Northern Line Underground.

I do not “know” London afterall. Oh sure, I have a few favourite haunts. The area immediately around London Bridge Tube Stop is home to approx. 6 of my 'best-pubs' (and one really good kebab-shop). Of course, I also am very familiar with the area around Liverpool Street Station as I take visitors on my “there-were-other-serial-murderers-besides-jack-the-ripper-walking-tour”. AND who isn’t familiar with the whole area around the Westminster Tube Stop? You’ve got Parliament, Westminster Abbey, the bridge, the Eye, etc. But that’s all I know, really. Everywhere else I go, I just crawl out of the ground at the Tube Station, emerge blinking into the light of the world of London-Above-Ground and look for the address of my intended destination. Usually, it’s pretty near whatever Tube Line I took. Convenient, yes, but not good for actually seeing the city around me.

I think need to spend more time above ground. I have got to walk around the city a bit more outside of the touristy areas and my favourite pub-crawls. London is a big city.

I am sure it is a wonderful place.

--tomb