Ten Dollar Thoughts

If you have a dog (or have in the past) would you say that your dog is tuned into you?  Would you say that she knows when you’re happy or sad or angry?  Would you say that she senses the difference between a threat and a non-threat?

Most people would ascribe these characteristics to their dogs.  (I’m not a cat person, so I can’t speak about the proclivities of the feline persuasion.)  This is due in part to the fact that after thousands years of being bred for working, sporting, and playing alongside humans, they tend to be in touch with us.  It is also because certain highly trained dogs have learned to interpret human situations with incredible accuracy.  (Did you catch this story a few years ago about the dog that dialed 911 and then opened the door for emergency responders?)

Service and assistance dogs astound me.  So do police dogs, drug dogs, and bomb-sniffing dogs.  These animals rise well above the status of “good pets” and help out mankind on another level altogether.  Many of them thrive on it.  However, apparently, such lives of thrill and danger can take their toll on dogs just as much as they can on humans.

From a story that is simultaneously heart-breaking and inspiring, I learned that a 2-year-old German shepherd named Gina has returned from a tour in Iraq with PTSD.  I won’t rehash the entire story (it won’t take you but a minute to read on your own), but the gist of it is that she left for Iraq as a highly trained but sweet and happy bomb-sniffing dog.  She returned home “cowering and fearful.”  She was diagnosed by a military veterinarian with canine PTSD which he says can affect dogs just as it affects people.

This is fascinating it its own rite.  But the aspect of the story that most captured my attention was this sentence:

But some veterinarians dislike applying the diagnosis to animals, thinking it demeans servicemen and women.

Demeans them?  Really?  Perhaps it’s because I’m a dog lover.  Perhaps it’s because I recently watched The Hurt Locker and the dangers endured by bomb squads are fresh in my mind.  But I struggle to understand how anyone who is willing to put her life in the hands of a brilliantly trained dog, and put that dog’s life at risk in the same moment, could ever claim to be demeaned by the idea that the dog might suffer the same long term effects of warfare that the soldier herself does. 

If we believe that a dog can understand how to find a bomb, or how to predict a seizure, or how to find drugs hidden inside tires at border checks, then how can we consider that the same dog couldn’t understand the context of risk and danger implicit in many of those situations?  I find it more demeaning to the dog to assert that they couldn’t have PTSD than to the soldier to assert that they could.

So far this week I’ve regaled you with my affections for scalloped tomatoes (yes, I made my fourth batch in two weeks on Wednesday night) and TV reruns.  I’ve also discovered that these two things are made even better when enjoyed at the same time – you really should try it.  Perhaps tonight while GAP is out at a business dinner I will really gild the lily and add this third component to the mix for a moment of perfect Gale bliss.

The nightgown.  I hadn’t worn one since I was at least eight years old.  In my mind they were either stuffy, puritan affairs or tiny and tawdry.  For years, unaware that there was any kind of middle ground, I opted for two-piece pajamas.  Some of them were darling matched sets.  But many others were shameful combinations of old t-shirts and boxer shorts.  Not so pretty.

Further, as a matter of practicality, I frequently got into fights with my pajama bottoms in the middle of the night.  I would roll.  They would twist.  I would right them.  They would twist again.  It was an ongoing, maddening battle that I resented for interrupting my precious REM cycles (or something, I really don’t know anything about sleep biology).    

So, recently I decided it was time for a bit of overhaul in the sleepwear department.  Time to bring the words beauty sleep to life.  Time to end the day wearing something that would see me through to morning without incident. 

Enter: the nightgown.  (Actually, nightgowns. Plural.)

They are flirty and feminine without being racy or raunchy.  Sweet but not twee.  Delicate but not dainty.  They make me feel like a lady, which is a lovely way to feel, especially at the end of a long day.  They make me brush my hair one last time before getting into bed.  I’ve even reintroduced two long-forsaken skincare steps (toner and eye cream) back into my nightly toilette. 

And nightgowns are comfortable – oh so comfortable.  They don’t spiral around me and wake me up.  The cotton is soft and breezy.  They are cool on warm summer nights.  Perhaps it is psychosomatic, but I sleep so much better in nightgowns than pajamas.  If sleep like this means mental trickery, sign me up.  I’m game.   

A good night’s sleep really isn’t such a little thing.  It should be.  It should be easy.  Sleep is delicious, and healthy, and free.  We should be tired when we go to bed and rested when we wake in the morning.  Sleep should be the easiest decision we make all day, yet so many of us get so little of it. 

Nightgowns, like all of the little things I’ve written about this week, add up to something bigger.  A perfect simple supper is comforting and nourishing and whole.  Our favorite reruns on television bring a combination of pleasant surprise and predictable calm.  And a nightgown helps us log the eight or nine hours of uninterrupted sleep that help us feel (if not actually become) really on top of things.

These little things are small on their own.  But they extrapolate out to much greater levels of meaning.  This is why the idea of “the little things” is such a cliché.  There is truth in it that we can’t afford to overlook.

PS – As I contemplated my posts this week there were several other little things that I considered: good pens, text messaging, going to movies alone, Zappos.com, and countless others.  Our lives are full of little things that we neglect to consider very often.

I’m dedicating this week’s posts to some of life’s simplest pleasures.  Ten Dollar Thoughts are great, but sometimes it’s nice to scale back.  For Monday’s installment, click here.

I realize I dealt them a glancing blow last Friday, but as I began thinking about my favorite simple pleasures I realized that TV reruns actually make the cut. 

Unless you’re watching Entourage or Mad Men, just about all television shows are in reruns right now.  Most people lament this period of TV drought, and eagerly await the start of the new season late next month.  But I secretly love reruns.  Why?  I’m so glad you asked.

I love the pleasant surprise of a great rerun.  You turn on your TV unsure of whether or not there will be anything decent to watch.  You could easily be condemned to bad TV movies or some Marie Osmond infomercial.  But instead you find the episode of Friends where Monica and Rachel gamble (and lose) their apartment; or the episode of The West Wing where Sam and Toby have to bail a Supreme Court nominee out of jail; or the episode of Seinfeld with the low water pressure.  Moments like these are akin to bumping into your best friend from college whom you adore, but haven’t seen in ages.  You want nothing more than to settle in and hear all about what she’s been up to.

I also love the familiar terrain of a rerun.  You’ve been there before and you know what’s going to happen.  You know when the best scene is coming up and whether or not you should wait to go to the bathroom.  Not only that, but the anticipation of knowing what comes next can almost make the moment sweeter.  You know that Kramer is going to fly through the door wearing, “nothing but a thin layer of gabardine,” and you get your laugh all ready to go because you’re going to need it. 

There’s something casual about old shows.  You probably didn’t plan to watch them.  You’re probably doing something else at the same time.  They don’t command your full attention, but they may make paying bills, peeling carrots, or brushing dogs a little more entertaining.  Much like hearing your favorite song on the radio, you never know when you’ll come across one, but you always know it will be a welcome addition to your day.

On Friday I posted a little list of things we can do (actually do) to improve ourselves and the world around us.  It felt good to dedicate a post to small tangible things, after focusing for more than six months on abstract and sometimes complicated thoughts.  Over the weekend I thought (ironic, I realize) more about some of the small and simple things in life and this week I’m dedicating my posts to the topic of little things that make a big difference. 

We didn’t have plans for Friday night.  It had been a long and draining week for me and I wasn’t really up for cooking dinner.  GAP and I had the pizza vs. leftovers debate and opted for leftovers.  This was really a decision that we backed into; he’d eaten a big lunch and wasn’t very hungry and I wasn’t especially in the mood for pizza.  It turned out to be the best accidental decision of my week. 

Recently my favorite food blogger (Deb at Smitten Kitchen) posted this recipe for scalloped tomatoes.  It’s the kind of dish I would have reluctantly choked down at my mother’s insistence as a child.  But as an adult it is some kind of magic to me.  The way the tomatoes break down in the pan.  The way they sweeten and caramelize with heat.  The way the crusty bread soaks up their juices and becomes something completely new.  And the way the whole affair becomes the ideal platform for a poached egg, as Deb suggests.    

Lately I’ve been making about a batch of this delicious mess each week.  I portion it out into plastic containers and take it to work for lunch.  Or, as was the case on Friday, I spoon it into a bowl and curl up on the couch with it.  It is not pretty, but for me it is perfect.  In this world of garnishes and flair and finishing touches (both culinary and otherwise) I love this meal which doesn’t try to be anything it’s not.  It doesn’t call for a sprig of fresh basil on each serving.  Nor does it request to be baked in individual dishes for a lovelier presentation (transferring giant scoops from baking dish to plate or bowl does nothing for the aesthetics of this dish).  It is cheap and easy to make – not the kind of thing you’d serve to company, to be sure.  If it were served to you in a restaurant you might send it back on looks alone.  But when the fork hits your mouth you sort of hunker down in your seat and hunch protectively over your food.

Simply put, this dish makes me happy.  Really, really happy.  And on Friday night I actually identified with it in some way.  I sat at home when many adults were out.  My makeup was smudged and my energy flagged.  I felt crumpled and bruised.  Yet when I looked down at my simple supper I was comforted.  Perhaps this is a big metaphor to ask of a leftover bowl of scalloped tomatoes.  But I liked knowing that something so utterly lacking in pretense could pack such a delicious punch.  I will not start this week with smudged makeup or mussed up hair.  Nevertheless, it’s comforting to think that even if I did that might still be okay.

I’m always looking for ways to improve myself and here in the world of blogging it’s easy to get lost in our heads.  We think lofty thoughts.  We analyze and distill the world around us.  We mull and ruminate and ponder and probe.  But the blogosphere doesn’t always offer opportunities for us to act on all of the thoughts we think and words we write.  So today I’m skipping the Ten Dollar Thoughts and offering ten one-dollar ideas for things we can do that might help us end the day a bit better than we began it. 

1. Open the door.  Chances are that at least once a day (and with only mild inconvenience) you have the opportunity to open or hold the door for someone else.  Do it, it might make their day.
2. Drink a smoothie.  Most of us don’t come close to eating as many servings of fruits and vegetables as we should each day.  The following recipe contains three full servings of fruit as well as lean protein and calcium.  Put into your blender: 1 sliced banana, ½ cup plain nonfat yogurt, ½ cup plain soy milk, heaping ½ cup frozen blueberries, heaping ½ cup frozen strawberries.  Blend until smooth.
3. Pick up some trash.  Whether it’s a water bottle or a candy bar wrapper, when you see a piece of trash on the ground pick it up and put it in the nearest garbage can.  You can leave the world a little better than you found it.
4. Word of the day.  Dictionary.com allows you to register for their Word of the Day.  Expand your vocabulary one day at a time. 
5. Take a walk.  Most decent television shows are in reruns right now.  This evening instead of curling up on the couch take 30 minutes and walk around your neighborhood.  You’ll burn some calories, stretch your legs, and maybe have an interesting conversation with a neighbor.
6. Floss.  There are all kinds of health benefits to flossing.  See for yourself.  Besides, flossing is easy and it only takes a minute.
7. Go to bed early.  We are getting less sleep than we used to, and there are some important benefits of sleep.  So get some extra Z’s and thank yourself for it.
8. Pay a compliment.  We all feel better when someone says something nice about us.  Say something nice about someone else and know that they’re probably happier than they were before you opened your mouth.
9. Five Dollars.  Chances are you’ll pass someone today who has fallen on hard times.  If you can swing it give them a $5 bill.  It’s more than most people give and could buy them the first hot meal they’ve had in days.
10. Be the new kid.  Visit a blog you’ve never read and leave a comment.  You will be an unexpected perk in someone’s day.   

I’m playing catch-up from my blog-cation the past couple of weeks.  So please pardon the fact that this story may have already phased out of the national conversation, but I’m still pondering it.

Unless you live under a rock (in which case you probably don’t have internet and aren’t reading this) you know that a couple of weeks ago LeBron James announced that he would be leaving the Cleveland Cavaliers and joining his buddies Chris Bosh and Dwayne Wade in Miami.  All of South Beach celebrated, and everyone from Chicago to New York to Cleveland itself wished a pox on King James for forsaking them.  Ahhh, the drama.

But once all the loving and hating that stemmed from the initial announcement settled down two elder statesmen of the game of basketball stirred up some drama of their own.  First Michael Jordan and then Magic Johnson came out and publicly stated (as though we were all curious) “I would never have done what LeBron did.”   And this got me scratching my head.

Why does this matter?  Why is it relevant?  Why do we care what two retired players claim they would or wouldn’t have done in a different era under different circumstances with different opportunities?

(As an aside, kudos to LeBron for keeping his mouth shut and not responding, “Well, Michael, I wouldn’t have developed a massive gambling problem.”  And, “Well, Magic, I wouldn’t have caroused around having unprotected sex with random women until I contracted HIV.”  I suspect that took some real restraint on LeBron’s part.)

Because this little outburst from Jordan and Johnson perplexed me I did what most women would do: I asked my husband about it.  Not surprisingly, he had already discussed the same topic with some friends of his and so had a broader sampling of feedback than I was expecting.  According to GAP (and his buddies at work) the purpose of rejecting LeBron’s decision has something to do with the integrity of the competitor.  As it was explained to me winning isn’t enough; and going to someone else’s team, playing with a stacked deck, and then winning isn’t the same as winning on your own.  The implied message from MJ-1 and MJ-2 is that LeBron should have stayed the course in Cleveland, continued to build the team up around himself, and then proceeded to win a series of championships.  Further still, the argument apparently goes that now that he’s left the Cavs to join forces with more elite teammates he may never be able to clinch the title of “best man to ever have played the game” because whatever he accomplishes now won’t have been on his back alone.

Now please pardon me here, but I think that is bloody ridiculous.  It’s all semantics.  GAP explained that LeBron “went to Wade’s team.”  Whereas the Cavaliers was “his team” the Heat is someone else’s.  Also, now that he’s playing with other superstars LeBron’s talents will supposedly be masked and his candidacy for “the greatest player in history” substantially diluted.   And apparently in the world of patriarchy and pissing matches, this matters.

I, for one, just don’t get it.  I don’t understand why it matters to grown men who has marked what territory.  Much less do I understand why long-retired superstars who should be resting happily on their laurels are passing value judgments based on a situation they themselves never encountered (unless it’s to reclaim dying media relevance).  And as for the “best player ever” argument I see it this way: either he is or he isn’t.  Perhaps this is naïve of me, but I say that being the best player ever means exhibiting the most talent and channeling that talent into the most success.  Whoever else happens to be on the court should be irrelevant.

After a 10-day break from blogging I am rested, but I’m also struggling to hit my literary stride again.  My mind has been busy with much reading, but I have found that being on the receiving end of mental stimulation is much easier than producing it.  I suppose this shouldn’t surprise me, but to some extent it does.  I didn’t expect my time off – filled with books, magazines, and conversation – to slow the spinning of my mental wheels as much as it did.  But as I struggle today to organize and articulate my thoughts I can only help but feel that I’ve been quite lazy over the past couple of weeks.  This feels like my first trip to the gym after two weeks on the couch. 

As I’ve thought about this little phenomenon I remembered a chapter I read earlier this summer in Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers.  He discusses the process of lying fallow – leaving land unplanted between crops – and the ways in which it can augment or detract from agricultural yield depending on the crop.

Here in the United States we grow crops that can drain the soil of its nutrients if the same crop is planted on the same land year over year.  Eventually the soil will be so depleted that the yield will suffer and possibly fail altogether.  Farmers have long worked around this problem with crop rotation and fallow periods.  Letting a field lie fallow allows the soil’s nutrients to replenish, making the next season’s planting more productive. 

Early Americans applied this practice more broadly than agriculture, though.  As the school year was designed there was a period of lying fallow built in for children.  Today we know this period as summer vacation.  Kids are allowed to rest their minds, relax, play, and take a break from all that thinking.  As is the case in farming, the idea behind this was that the rest would prime them for more efficient learning during the school year.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the Chinese also applied their agricultural practices to their beliefs about education.  What makes this parallel fascinating, though, is that because they grow rice their educational system looks very different from our own.  Rice, unlike wheat or corn, benefits from more planting.  The more batches of crop that can be planted each growing season, the better the yield.  Lying fallow would be detrimental to the productivity of the land.    

In chapters eight and nine of Outliers Gladwell addresses the well known mathematical superiority of Asian students over Americans.  The details he identifies are compelling and I won’t attempt to recreate them here because I’m no Gladwell and if you haven’t already done so you should read the book yourself.  But the net conclusion is that the American agricultural premise doesn’t hold up when applied to education.  That is, our minds become better with use, not rest.  Rice farming is labor intensive on a scale that dumbfounds me.  As the old Chinese maxim goes, “No one who can rise before dawn three hundred sixty days a year fails to make his family rich.”  That attitude applied to education created Asian school years that range from 220 to 243 days long (as compared to 180 days in the U.S.).  And students who are in school up to 35% more days per year than Americans have lots of smarts to show for it.

So I sit here, feeling rested but not particularly sharp.  My grey matter is a bit mushier than normal today and my quick wits have slowed.  I am inspired by the idea of constant learning, but a bit overwhelmed at the same time.  You see, I liked my break.  And, mental laziness aside, I think it was good for me.  Because if I am completely enervated I’ll have nothing left to give to my little mental escapades here.  I doubt I’ll ever go on a three month hiatus from reading and thinking and learning.  But I still contend that a week here and there do more good than harm.  Besides, it’s July which means that it’s hot and humid and utterly miserable outside.  I liken a mental break to a big glass of ice water – delicious and refreshing, but also essential for survival.

Happy Wednesday to you all.  I come to you today with links.  There is some good stuff out there on the internet and my well is a little dry these days.  So I’m leveraging the genius of other people to keep your minds (and mine) stimulated.

The Big Short – This book by Michael Lewis is probably the best I’ve read all year.  In it Lewis tells the tale of the financial crisis with unparalleled color and clarity.  If you have any proclivity toward business writing at all, this is a must read.  Even if you don’t it’s still fascinating at every turn.  And if you don’t read the book you should at least listen to the interview he did with Terry Gross on Fresh Air when it was released this past spring. 

50^th Anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird – There has been much made this week (and rightly so) of the 50^th anniversary of the publication of Harper Lee’s only and classic novel.  Many writers and commentators have discussed its influence on race relations, its portrayal of the South, and its membership in the canon of modern American literature.  But it was this article about Scout by Anna Quindlen that I found most interesting.

For a Laugh – Nothing thought provoking here.  Just a stand-up comic doing what comics do best… being funny.

For a Cry – Fellow blogger Jane knows how to bring it.  Her stories of childhood and parenthood (not to mention her color commentary on the world around her) keep me coming back for more every week.  But she really outdid herself with this touching and heartbreaking post about her experience as a foster parent.  If you are human it will move you.

And, as a final note, I’m going to be taking a week or so off from blogging.  Work is crazy right now and I could use a little extra down time.  So, as many of my blogging compatriots have already done, I’m giving myself a little breather.  I hope you all are enjoying some good R&R this summer as well.  See you around the 26^th.

I don’t think I have to go too far out on a limb in saying that I value education.  It’s not an especially risky position to take.  I am the fortunate product of a good education, a family of readers, and a marriage filled with challenging ideas. 

These things suit me, but beyond that, I believe they make me a better person.  I believe that I improve myself every time I learn something, whether it’s the result of extensive reading or a quick Wikipedia search.  I also believe that learning and education are not exclusively achieved by enrollment in colleges and graduate schools.  They likewise come from independent reading, engaging with people, exposing yourself to new environments and cultures, and experiencing things firsthand.

Having said all this I am fully aware that there are plenty of ignorant people in the world.  Some of them yearn for better opportunities and broader experiences.  But plenty of them are content to meander through life with the knowledge they’ve already obtained, along with whatever else happens upon them without too much effort. 

It is this second category of people that GAP and I discussed over dinner Saturday night.  He has a low level of tolerance for people who don’t engage their minds.  Not for people who are uneducated.  Not even for people who aren’t very bright.  His beef is with those who don’t try; people who could ask interesting questions and think interesting thoughts, yet choose not to.  They exist in all circles of society: urban, rural, middle class suburban, wealthy, and poor. 

I am inclined to give these people a pass, of sorts.  There is a part of me that believes that their choices are not my business.  If they are happy enough in their current lifestyle, who am I to assume that my own approach to personal growth is right for them?  Additionally, ignorant bliss aside, for many of these people additional knowledge or analytical insight may not measurable improve their lives in any tangible way. 

Yet I have said it: I value education.  I think it is important.  So how can I reconcile that belief to only some subset of my society?  I would never state that vegetables and exercise are only important for people who already enjoy them.  I would never concede that open-mindedness and generosity are only valuable in people who care about those traits.  So why would I parse words when it comes to education?

I suppose it is that when it comes to advocating mental muscle there is a risk factor for snobbery that scares me.  Particularly given that I am well educated I fear that being outspoken about education (formal or otherwise), intellectual curiosity, and other aspects of knowledge and learning will imply judgment that I truly do not mean to convey.

There is a line from The West Wing (probably my all-time favorite show) that comes from a senior White House staffer in the midst of an election cycle.  The sitting president is an educated liberal from a prestigious family, fighting against a challenger who comes from more humble roots and is gaining ground on his platform of being a regular guy.  As the president grapples with how to leverage his own intellectualism the staffer says, “Before I look for anything, I look for a mind at work.”

I have always loved this line because it succinctly communicates exactly what I value.  He doesn’t say, “Before I look for anything I look for a post-graduate degree” or “a high iQ” or “analytical genius.”  He looks for a mind at work.  The range there is so broad.  It allows for so many versions.  A mind at work includes library books, The History Channel, and conversations with quirky and interesting people, as well as diplomas that read Summa Cum Laude. 

I suppose what I’m here to say is that I don’t care whether or not you have a college degree or even a high school diploma.  I don’t care if you’re a savant-like genius or a dim-witted fool.  I care if you’re trying.  I care that you get up each day and put your thinking cap on.  I care if there’s a mind at work.  And that, I hope, is a fair position to take.

Last night LeBron James revealed, to much fanfare, that he would join the Miami Heat come next season.  And while his professional endeavors were the focus of the one-hour announcement event, it was his philanthropic endeavors that spoke most loudly to me.

Highly paid athletes and celebrities have used their public platforms for innumerable reasons over time.  Getting into exclusive clubs.  Getting lighter prison sentences.  Getting astronomical endorsement deals.  Selling newborn photos of their children to gossip magazines.  You name it.  But in the lead-up to last night LeBron identified an opportunity and seized it.  Knowing full well that he would have America’s undivided attention he requested that sponsorship of the announcement be sold, and that the proceeds should go to the Boys and Girls Clubs of America.

When we discussed this decision over dinner with friends the other night GAP was quick to dismiss the significance of this charitable maneuver.  He didn’t think it was that big a deal.  Collectively we countered.  The line of questioning went something like this:  “What if more celebrities did things like this?  What if it became a trend?  What could this do for charity if celebs across the board started using moments like this to benefit others who really need it, instead of just themselves?”  GAP eventually crossed over to our side, but given his lack of celebrity I need our powers of persuasion to reach a bit further. 

There is a growing trend among the super-rich of pledging to donate half of their net worth to charity.  (Warren Buffet has famously pledged 99% of his wealth.)  Odd corporate sponsorship proceeds here and there may not tally into the billions as these private pledges do, but it’s more than a drop in the bucket. 

I say kudos to LeBron James for harnessing the media for the benefit of someone else.  Would that other celebs would follow in his footsteps.