There are days that argue against posting to my blog. Yesterday was one. Today is another. I listened to the argument yesterday. Today, I decided that days cannot argue with me...what kind of craziness is it that I am supposed to believe days can argue?! Well, on to something different.
I read something in the Dallas Morning News a few days ago about an interesting exhibit at the Museum of Natural History in Dallas. The exhibit is The Anatomical Exhibition of Real Human Bodies. I am interested. I want to see it.
iTunes has been agreeable lately...giving me free Christmas music (like I care about Christmas music...) and other freebies. Last night, I downloaded a documentary about Hispanics serving in the armed forces...it's really interesting. I have yet to buy anything from iTunes, but they are extremely clever marketers and I suspect they will be successful with me in the not-too-distant future.
My old notebook computer has a new soul. Ihave not yet installed its brain and heart and pancreas, but it is operational. I do not look forward to re-installing all the crap I lost. I may not do it until 2007. That may be my New Year's Resolution (that, or to lose 50 pounds or relocate to Mexico or retire and live in National Parks).
When I get deeply into something technical (like developing routines that do a lot of neat things in Access), I wonder just how smart today's kids really are. I have young people working for me...people who exemplify the demographic that is supposed to know all about using technology...who don't know as much as I do. It's disconcerting. I want young people to teach me. I want them to de-code the VCR for me, not vice versa.
All of my clients are using Harry & David as their gift-giving resource this year. We have lots of fruit at the office, along with candy, popcorn, etc., etc. I should have sent similar things to clients, but cannot afford to. Instead, we are sending 2007 New Year cards, each signed by all of us in the office.
I have such mixed feelings about Christmas. For one, it's not a religious holiday to me, because I'm not...not even a little...religious. For another, it has become so horrifically materialistic that it angers me. For another, I love the attitudes (however temporary) that it seems to engender in some people...attitudes that cause them to actually do good. I love the idea of Christmas (without any religious attachments), but I hate the reality of it. I don't want to give gifts...I want to donate money to organizations that need it to help people, and tell people to whom I would have given a gift, "Sorry, your gift money went to feed a broken family in Ames, Iowa" or "Sorry, I sent your gift money to Darfur, hoping they would put it to better use." But then I DO like giving gifts to my family. Dammit! I like using Christmastime as an opportunity to tell people I don't see or talk to often enough that I love them. Little gifts can do that.
I want to do things at Christmas, and all throughout the year, to help people who need a hand. But I don't do enough. Our dinner at McCormick & Schmick's, even though we used a gift card, could have turned a bleak and cold and painful night into a joyous occasion if I had shared the card with someone who really could have used it. I don't know if it's guilt or caring or something else that drives me, but I really want to do something for people who are down on their luck...and I don't want to do it just at Christmas. Why is it so hard to just get it done...to start helping people? Am I afraid that I'll end up distributing my "wealth" to others who need it more than I? Who knows...obviously, I don't.
I'm so fortunate and there are so many who are utterly unfortunate. Where is the fairness in that? How can those of use who are so fortunate make a big impact on the world by encouraging the most fortunate to share their good fortune? I guess we have to start doing it ourselves, first.
Is all of this some sort of pre-holiday depression? Maybe, but probably not. Believe it or not, these things go through my mind most days...and that gives me the blues.
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