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The Library vs Amazon
A few weeks ago, I discovered the queue at my public library’s website. The process is simple: Select your books, wait a few days, then pick them up. They are available from any library in the county, delivered to my local library. That’s awesome. Much more convenient-and cheaper-than Amazon
So I moved a couple of pages of my Amazon wish-list into the library’s queue.
I must not have been thinking, because two days later, I got an email telling me that 19 books were ready to be picked up and 10 more were in transit.
In this county, each checkout is good for 21 days. For items that don’t have a waiting list, you can reserve 3 times. That’s 12 weeks for 29 books. Hopefully, I’m up to the challenge. Please keep in mind, I’m a father of three, two of whom are in diapers, and I’m married, and I have a full time job.
I have frugally blown every second of spare time for months.
Update: This was another post written in advance. When all of the books came in, I suspended my request list. Little did I realize, the suspension cancels itself after 30 days. That was 30 more books. Whee!
Friends and Acquaintances
“Friends help you move. Good friends help you move bodies.”
-unknown
Some people have dozens of friends. I’m not that guy.
I have 6.
Everybody in the world can be divided into 4 categories.
- Strangers. A xenophobe’s nightmare. These are the people you don’t know, whether they are passing you on the sidewalk, or newborns on the opposite side of the world.
- Acquaintances. These are the people you’ve met, mostly in passing. They tend not to have much effect on your life. You may pass a friendly bus ride in conversation, but it’s nothing that sticks. A waitress, the clerk at the store, a friend’s latest date; these are the people you interact with for just a moment and rarely think about further.
- Friendlies. Most people call these folks friends. I don’t. I’m friendly with them, hence the name, but it’s not true friendship. Often, they are either my wife’s friends, or my friends’ wives. Sometimes, they are a friend of a friend that I only see at parties, or a coworker that I get along with, but never see outside of work. We’re friendly, but not obliged. I may help with some things, but it’s not necessarily a priority. I’ll go to a funeral, but probably won’t help plan it.
- Friends. To me, calling someone a friend is a big deal. I’m willing to do a lot for my friends. They are able to command large amounts of my time, and ask any number of favors. If needed, I’ll open my home or help demolish their’s. Loyalty, honesty, trust, respect, and companionship are all a part of my definition of a friend. If a friend needs help, I’ll come running. In return, I expect the same.
Family tends to fall into the same analogous categories.
It sounds cold, but I hesitate to let people graduate into the final category. My wife used to try to “set me up” with people that she thought I’d like to be friends with, thinking I was sad to have so few friends. It took years for her to realize that I was happy. It’s a matter of quality over quantity. Most of the friends I have, I’ve had for 10 years or more. I’ve known each of them for at least 5 years, not that time is a requirement.
Moving people into the “friends” category is a lot like dating. You get along, so you invite the potential friends out for a drink, one on one. You feel them out to see if they are compatible. You meet their families, share some food, build some history. If it all works out, eventually, you consider them a true friend, even if you couldn’t mark the date of the transition.
You wouldn’t marry everyone you date, so why would turn everyone you basically get along with into a friend?
Do you have a lot of friends? What marks friendship for you?
Hunting Trip Stress
Vegans and hippies won’t enjoy this post.
Friday, I went to a cabin in the woods for a weekend hunting trip with my dad, my brother, and a few other people.
My wife didn’t think it’s a good idea. In fact, she was terrified that I’d walk into the woods and come out in a body bag.
Statistically, it’s safe. Out of 12.5 million hunters, there are only around 100 fatal hunting accidents every year. I think I went hunting for the first time when I was 12, and continued to do so until I was 17, then life started interfering.
That doesn’t matter. By definition phobias aren’t rational. She’s worried and stressing hard.
If she’s had such a hard time with it, why did I go?
First, I asked her six months ago if she’d be all right with the trip. I knew she had some phobias, and have–in fact–tried to make the trip before. Six months ago, she said yes. It was a bit late to back out after I’ve committed to a share of the cabin, bought the bright orange gear, and agreed to drive my brother.
The second reason was more important.
This is one of the few things my dad and I both enjoy. I’m a geek, he’s not. I dig horror and sci-fi, he’s into westerns.
But we both enjoy hunting. The first time he treated me like an adult was the first year we went hunting together, 15 years ago.
My dad taught me to be the man I am. Without him, I have no idea who I’d be or what I’d be doing. My integrity, my work ethic, and my moral code can all be traced to the things he taught me.
This is my chance to spend time with him and have a good time with no TV or whiny kids interfering.
Trading this for a few days of stress at home is something I’m willing to do.
Lost Kid
Losing a kid is terrifying.
Aside from impromptu–and panic-inducing–games of hide-and-seek while shopping, I’ve misplaced a kid three times. My oldest walked out of the house twice when he little, once to find Mommy at a neighbor’s house–he didn’t know which neighbor–and once to find Grandma, who was in the backyard, but he thought she went home. With the first, a fireman got him to my wife. With the second, we knew he was gone within a minute and guessed where he went. He’d only made it a few blocks before I caught up to him. My middle kid walked out of the back side of a playground and somehow ended up in the parking lot before an attendant found her and brought her back.
We all know what to do when your kids disappears. If you’re in a store, you grab an employee and tell them your kid is missing. They’ll help. If you’re at the park, you have a heart attack while calling your kid’s name. Simple.
What’s your kid supposed to do?
If you’re kid gets lost, tell them to find a woman and ask for help. Tell them before they get lost.
There are 4 reasons.
- Pedophiles are rare. Stranger-kidnappings are rare. They are also predators, looking for a victim. If your kid picks the stranger to talk to, the odds of picking someone who will victimize them are slim.
- Kids are short. Employee uniforms are well above their line-of-sight and can be confusing to a little brat. What’s the kid supposed to do if she gets lost outside of a store? Simple rules for little minds.
- Women are very rarely predators. It happens, but it’s a statistical anomaly within the statistical anomaly that is child-predation. In general, women are safe. They are also wired to watch out for small children. It’s easier to get a strange woman to sympathize than a strange man.
- Women tend to be less intimidating to small children than men.
That’s it. Tell your kids to find a woman and ask for help if they get lost.
Be Happy With What You Have…
…or you will never be happy.
A newer car, a bigger TV, a nicer house, a fancier phone, better tickets, more friends, more gadgets, more toys…more, bigger, better…whatever.
It’s all a disappointment.
Nothing on that list will provide happiness. If that is your goal, you will spend your life miserable. It’s not possible to buy happiness, either directly or indirectly through the accumulation of “stuff”. A purchase may fuel your ego or trigger endorphins, but it is all temporary. There’s no sustainable happiness in the “high” of the latest purchase.
The search for stuff pales in comparison to the search for meaning. Find your passion and follow that. Chase that to the ends of the earth, and come back feeling fulfilled. Feel something that will last longer than the drive home or the next product release.
Find contentment. At some point there is a satisfying level of “enough”. More than that, you feel empty. Less, envious. Find enough and stop there. Find the level that allows you to do the things you need to do and some of what you want to do. Find your balance point and be happy with it.
Living life constantly disappointed that you don’t have more is a sure way to live life disappointed. How do you find your balance point?
Also, have you started the Happiness Challenge?
