A Different Drummer: No news is good news

Here we go again, with 2016 in the rearview mirror and 2017 standing right in the middle of the road in front of us. Prepare for impact.
I don’t have any words of wisdom, and if I were to honestly share my hopes and dreams for the new year, without going into detail or naming names, I’d have to say I think we are doomed. All our safeguards to protect the environment, public education, racial harmony, gender equality, public decency and world peace will likely be dismantled or set back. We’ve drained the swamp by filling the hen house with foxes. The metaphor has morphed.
I used to love reading the news. Now I’m afraid of it. I still read it, but I hold the screen farther from my face. The humor embedded in the current buffoonery has been drained. I feel no desire to make quips.
In unrelated news, which I continue to specialize in, nothing is happening. I’m enjoying that. My restless spirit is resting.
Christmas came and went. Everyone was happy with their presents. The boys were overjoyed with their Beats Bluetooth headphones. They wore them most of the day. The cabin was quiet. The adults were deeply appreciative.
I got my big present a month ago. I’d been complaining for over a year that my version one iPad was becoming a pain to use, slow, trashy, crashy, won’t update. Worst of all, it sometimes ignores my raises when I have a flush or full house.
Susan and I were in Berkeley strolling 4th Street pseudo-shopping when we passed the Apple Store. “You want to go in?” she asked. I said sure, why not do a bit of drooling.
Of course, the tempo of temptation took hold just inside the door with the vast display of colorful black mirrors. The iPad Pro with its huge 12” x 8” screen was an eye catcher. It came with a keyboard. No longer would I have to travel with my full-size laptop to write my columns. I refuse to type lengthy drivel on my old tablet. It is unreliable, and I can’t deal with peck-n-paw screen keyboards. Tablet typing might distemper my themes.
“Hm. Well, I could use it for work,” I said.
“Sure,” said Susan. “You wouldn’t want to use it to play Texas Holde ‘m or watch cat videos at three in the morning.”
So, she bought it for me. I’m using it now. I’m actually sitting in the kitchen writing with Susan, Gino and his girlfriend Patricia. It’s great. I can engage in the interesting small talk and ignore the rest while typing. Usually I’m cloistered alone in my den and out of the socializing loop.
Now after Christmas I’m thinking I could use a set of Bluetooth speakers so I could watch cat videos at 3 a.m., for my insomnia is real.
I also got two oranges and a scratcher in my stocking.
All this talk about pricey gifts and materialistic merriment may dispose you to think there’s something a wee bit wrong with my scenario. I’m feeding expensive gifts to my grandsons. What message goes with it? What am I conditioning?
To that I say this. Anytime, anywhere, anyone asks any of my grandsons what they like most about Christmas, they always give the same answer, and it’s not about the substantial gifts they received. They love the scavenger hunts.
They love the interactiveness. The like the game playing, the challenge, the house hunting and puzzle solving. They love putting their boots on over their pajamas and trudging into the snowy forest to retrieve clues stapled to distant trees, or interpreting written clues to passwords that unlock an iPad file with the next clue. Can they name the next three streets after ours? What does the sign say that’s been in front of the cabin for 30 years? Can they list three Western movies? Can they name three living political figures from other countries? Can they name the capitals of five states? If they have to look anything up on the internet, they must first give their brother 10 compliments.
Often times they don’t even remember what gift they got, or if it was practical or fun. They enjoyed that I spent significant time preparing specialized clues. They enjoyed that I hand wrote every clue, with occasional illustrations. They enjoyed that I made them sing “Jingle Bells” arm-in-arm in front of the family to earn the next clue. They enjoyed that they could buy clues by giving compliments.
I do have resolutions, but they are additions, not changes. I plan to fish and camp and hike more. Fifteen years ago I dislocated my back lifting a table. Over night I stopped backpacking, river rafting, cave spelunking, and rock climbing. After 12 years of excruciating pain and numerous chiropractic visits, one day rolling on the floor, my back popped back into place. That was two years ago. I still feel great, strong, pain free. I need to get back into the wilderness. That’s my plan for 2017.