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Sunday February 18, 2001
"We can't all do everything." Voltaire
she may be near the end of the pack, but she's traversed eight miles and is proud of it!
anonymous neighbor with bubbly and negative race number
I bought a ULEV (ultra low emission vehicle) and you should, too...think about this guy!
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feeling lazy I stay in bed until after 8 even though I hear the cheers for the first Motorola Marathon runners to pass mile 8 (in front of our house). I am dreaming about a conference. I'm going to sessions, but I haven't registered. I keep thinking I need to do that. I have to speak later. I stop someone who has a complex embroidery job on his shirt. Product name, logo, tag line and more. "There are more letters on your shirt than contracts that the product produced!" I say, tapping the shirt with my fingertip. "I know," the wearer says, smiling.
We stumble around and fire up the Capresso and get some coffee and get dressed. We finally go outside. Our neighbor Laurie has her yard all set up: chairs, tables with food, coffee. Again, this year, another neighbor's yard is the petroleum jelly stand. You don't want to know. We are so late that the runners are mostly stragglers and fun folks. A phalanx of vehicles follows those that we think are dead last. The police, trucks to pick things up, a bus for stragglers, etc. Until we see a few people who are actually behind and among the vehicles. Dead. Last. I couldn't walk eight miles. We do two or three, occasionally close to four. But I don't walk at all. I stand and talk, help put away stuff and I eat a Krispy Kreme donut. It is cold from the morning air, sitting in the box for over an hour, as if it has been refrigerated. My neighbor has made race numbers for the spectators. They are negative numbers. Luby's. My in-laws have gift certificates and they like going there. My parents come over after church and we all go. I end up eating spinach, green beans and mashed potatoes and gravy with a dinner roll. (A 'vegie' plate with none of the health benefits that might imply.) The vegies are OK, made with aninmal fat. (Say 'animal fat' in a trance-like Homer Simpson voice right after you say 'donut.') Afterwards we stand around and comment on the driveway, the cleanup needed of the rocks and trash around it, the future landscaping. My mother wants some of the rocks scattered around from the driveway bed. For some project. She always has a project. Which is, I suspect, a good thing. Concert. The Austin Choral Artists had a benefit. Pamela Hart (jazz singer) accompanied by James Polk (piano) and Mike Stevens (bass). The benefit is in the house of some friends. The ACA group supports classical singers. Our friend Jeff didn't know his piano could play jazz. It is a pleasant interlude. James Polk is a master and Pamela is completely stunning on some tunes especially singing Someone to Watch over Me as the last song (requested by FFP). This is music we love. Our hosts are classical music fans, but it surprises me that they don't like jazz and American standards at least a little. Maybe this is their introduction. The thing everyone wants to talk about these days is the downturn, the layoffs, the companies closing. The real estate market changes taking place. Who will go out of business with the euphoria gone, who will remain? People ask about our company. We've had harder times for over a year, but the focus is on it now. People look at everything through one lens. But the fact is, there are many different businesses. Different cycles, different companies. We feel like spectators this time. The downturn is a movie. It may reach out and touch us more closely than it already has, though. We've watched a few high tech holdings go down and also realized that stock options will probably not be a source of income in the future. Our fathers discuss CD rates in the driveway. Theirs is not a roller coaster financial life. It's a slow, steady one that ended in an old age of meager pensions and CDs. But they have enough to live and owe nothing. "We wrote a check for $98 at the grocery store," says FFP's dad. "But we had $11 in coupons. The coupons pay for the cab to the store." Tech company fallout doesn't rock our parents' world. But there are people in town who are about to see life a little differently. See dreams disappear. Personally, I hope the Land Rover dealership is the first to go. The truth is that there are many aspects to Austin's economy. The university, the government, a lot of companies besides Dell and Motorola. I think there are even lots of retirees here who depend entirely on income more or less outside the local economy. But things will change. They always do. And change again. It's kind of fun to watch, actually. Ups and downs mean growth. Our friend Jerry drops by on his motorcycle and has a cup of coffee and we talk for a while. Jerry owns Precision Camera. He is an independent guy. His store is great and his WEB site is great for info or shopping. They have and will feel the downturn. But I think they will come through, maybe even pushing a chain location or two aside. Jerry was at our Valentine's bash. While he's visiting, I start thinking of all the people we know. It's funny how we maintain connections with people. I am so much more connected with my parents now. Because they are closer and because I take the time to get involved with them. To see their everyday pleasures and struggles. We try to make time to see FFP's parents, too. Like today's lunch. The fact that we all live within fifteen minutes of one another is helpful. Still, we have to find the time. People are always moving in and out of touch. Out of reach and contact. You think of them once in a while but they aren't right there, talking to you, doing stuff with you. We are connecting with a couple of people in New York. Then we may not see them again for years. Or ever. Maybe we will just exchange a card at Christmas. Or nothing. There are relatives I see only a few times a year. I only saw my sister only a couple of times last year. Occasionally we send e-mail or a card but we rarely seem to find the time. I feel close to her and her children and my great nephew Jack. I feel close to my cousins. When I go to Houston, I often drive within a couple of minutes of one of their houses, though, and I've only gone to visit once. (It was great, though, because they were busy with a 'science night' at school so I got to go to the school with my cousin and his wife and kid. We had lots of fun activities, actually.) Friends drift away. People you don't see anymore unless you make the effort. E-mails exchanges fire up and dwindle. And somehow you've both moved on. You meant to have a coffee or lunch or dinner this quarter, then next. Then it's been years and you are embarrassed to call the friend a friend. Just someone you know now. Just an acquaintance. I maintain some relationships with e-mail. If both parties write often enough, you feel really close. But it always seems to drift down. Then you start feeling that if you write, it's an intrusion. (It's not an intrusion like sending FWDed jokes, but still.) Suddenly, you seem to just be getting e-mail from strangers and junk mail for a while. E-mail isn't a bridge to other places anymore. A long time friend has taken a new job. I start thinking about how well we will keep up. We did it through another time when we worked different jobs. Then we were working at the same place again. For a long time. And now we must make an extra effort again. You seem to end up with a random set of people who you know and actually do things with or communicate with. You have something in common: work, a sport, events. You go out of your way to invite them and they come or they do the inviting. Relationships take somebody's effort. Sometimes a one-sided effort is enough for a while. Then it's not. At the end, what you do and who you see starts to feel random, an accident. It's really not, of course. The Austin Choral Artists had a benefit. Pamela Hart (jazz singer) accompanied by James Polk (piano) and Mike Stevens (bass). The benefit is in the house of some friends. The ACA group supports classical singers. Jeff didn't know his piano could play jazz. It is a pleasant interlude. At home, we eat chicken livers with honey mustard sauce. Watch King of the Hill, The Simpsons, part of a Sopranos rerun. Then we put on the LD of Remains of the Day and watch Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson do lots of duet acting in the shadow of a fascinating story of accommodation of Nazis. So what did I really accomplish this weekend? Not much. But I did have a good time. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Please say yes! |
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