Quantity over Quality

It's always at this time of the semester--two weeks till the end--that I'm blinded by busyness. There's grading to be done, papers to write, meetings to attend, and holidays to plan. In the wash of things, I find myself being quiet at home (or, rather, my wife finds me being quiet) and relatively inactive. Once this comes to the forefront of my mind, I remember my priorities, try to leave work at work (at least until the kids go to bed, then I buckle down), and try to be fully present while home.

When I look back at the memories I have from when I was as old as my kids (2-4) there are some stand outs: my birthdays, Christmases, my sisters being born, and the like. But besides those special dates, much of my memories are wrapped up in normal days. Taking my brother to school and counting the minutes till he came home; my dad coming in the door from work; playing in the back yard; going shopping. After all, these "regular days" make up most of my life.

And it's also these regular days that make up most of our emotional memories. It's these regular days that are so important to our kids and their development.

I was lucky that my parents were never divorced. I understand that there are plenty of situations out there when a divorce may improve the quality of a kid's life, but it never would have been the case for me. Growing up, by the time I was in high school, most of my friends lived in families torn by divorce; most stuff kept at their mom's houses with stripped-down bedrooms waiting for them every other weekend at their dad's house.

Almost always, their dads tried to make up for things by spending "quality time." I understand the impulse with every fiber of my being; if I only got to see my kids every so often, I'd want each time to be a memorable event, trapped in the amber of their minds never to deteriorate. But that would not and does not make up for all the time spent apart.

It's the minutia of our everyday life that affects us. Our children see us as a model for adulthood (and life) every moment they're around us, not just as we shuttle off to Disneyland or the fair. Surely those big moments are important, but they will never be outweighed by the quiet moments at home, playing Hi-Ho-Cherri-O or reading books or playdough or drawing with chalk on the driveway or grocery shopping.

Incidentally, I imagine that it goes this way with marriages, too. Women want involvement every day, not just when the week closes, two precious days before we clock back in to work. Time spent together cooking, talking, playing video games, working around the house: this is quality time, no matter how mundane we may be driven to see it. My wife and I have made a ritual of a couple times a week sitting out in the garage after the kids have gone to sleep, her throwing pottery and me noodling on guitar. It not my subpar music that brings us together so much as the chance to just be with each other for a while.

My brother and I had a weekly ritual in college. We called it our "quality time." No matter how busy we got with school and homework and social lives, we always spent Monday nights together. Even if we spent the entire weekend at the beach with friends, it was just the two of us on Mondays. My brother didn't even answer the phone at this time (something I still can't believe). And what did we do? We watched WWF wrestling while eating Little Cesear's Pizza (the Monday special across the street from our apartment was five bucks for a large pizza and a two liter of Pepsi and we each indulged in our own). It was a ridiculous ritual; we could have chosen to do anything, exciting things, expensive things, big things. But sitting together for two hours while Stone Cold Steve Austin battled it out against Vince McMahon was a fine time for two brothers to talk about their week together.

Consider this during the holidays. The "special" times will never be as special as the actual time.

Merry Christmas...Already?

Last year was the earliest it every happened to me. It was September 10th. I was in a Barnes and Noble looking for a certain Kerouac book and started humming along with a familiar tune. Half way through Jack's section when I realized what I was humming: We Three Kings. The date again: September 10th.

Was it a mistake, I wondered? But the following song was none other than Bing Crosby, crooning those famous words about snow and Yule. And it was in Houston where the average temperature in September is in the upper 90s.

Has the world gone insane? Do we really start celebrating Christmas right after the back-to-school sales?

The short answer is, Yes, yes it has gone insane.

This year the mall in our little suburban stronghold was fully X-massed out on October 29th. The decorations were up in "town square" (a ritzy shopping center made to look like a street) the same day. They built the gigantic Christmas tree there this past weekend.

Maybe I'd be more in the mood if I lived in Vermont where it has snowed already. Maybe I'd be more excited if we had to lite a fire in the fireplace to stay warm. Or maybe I'm wrong; just because we live in the hottest place in the States doesn't mean that Christmas must be absent, after all. Just because I'll be sporting shorts and a t-shirt on Christmas Eve doesn't mean Santa passes us by. And I'm no humbug, believe me. So it must just be too damn early.

I read somewhere that part of the blame of moving the holiday machine to the fore rests on the whole economy deal. Businesses are afraid things are going to get worse, and since Thanksgiving rests on the latest possible date this year, they want us to spend our money as soon as possible, without regard to what things will look like when the ball drops next January.

But we are trying to keep things simple. Not because we need to save money--though that's a nice benefit--but because we don't want to drown the specialness of the holidays in merchandise. Presents are a great way to highlight a celebration, and certainly something that I always looked forward to as a kid. But, to me, the holidays are about family, togetherness, happiness, and unity. It used to be a great way for a people to face the coldest and longest nights of the year with optimism, hope, generosity, and laughter. For my family, it's a time to invest in each other, to show care beyond routine, to practice putting each other first, to make a point to wallow in each other's company.

While gifts are a great part of that, I hope that they don't overshadow it. I read a great book last year called Unplugging the Christmas Machine and it spoke to me a great deal. I always think it sucks to hear people complain about the holidays being stressful. They're missing the point. I have never been and never will be stressed out because of the holidays. I enjoy going out and seeing shoppers frantically search for parking spots and presents--I hope I don't delight too much in their misfortune. But the crowds actually make me happy because I strain to see the other side of their consumerism and stress: some part of them is spending their life-energy to benefit someone they care about. Even if they miss the point, I relish in it.

When buying gifts, it helps that my daughters don't watch any TV commercials. It helps that my wife doesn't buy into the notion of gems and metals kept artificially expensive mean I care about her. I have found wonderful handmade jewelry for her in the past that speaks volumes more to her tastes and maintains social responsibility, integrity, creativity, and so much more. My kids delight in simple dolls, dollhouses, books, and tools for creative projects.

So take a moment this pre-holiday season to focus your family on what is important. Explain the meaning of the holidays as your tradition sees fit and focus on that. Speak to the meaning of gifts and make sure that you don't indulge in them so much that you get stressed, that the kids get too much clutter they don't really want, and you end up with too little money. Talk about these things now, before the season actually arrives.

Why We should Vote

12 years ago, my parents took the four of us "kids" to Europe. We spent most of our time in Germany and England. While walking around London, we would stop frequently to look at the various statues and monuments that pepper the streets. Stopping at one of them really gave me quite a surprise. It was a statue of George Washington.

Really? I thought. A statue of a general who beat their country in a war? It seemed unprecedented. We would never erect a statue to Benedict Arnold or George III. What were they doing with that thing?

People always seem to forget that George Washington wasn't just the first president of the United States, but the first president in the world. Period. It had never been done before that. And in the long days before the ratification of the Constitution--or even the articles of confederation--the people were restless to know who--or what--was going to govern the country.

The troops camped out on the shores, having just rid our country of the Red Coats, came up with a plan to hurry things along. They would march on Philadelphia, take over this meeting of intellectuals, and put George Washington up as King of America.

Well, when George found out about this, he was pissed. He told his troops that we didn't get rid of George the Third to have George the First.

It was unheard of. He actually turned down the chance to be King. And when George III back in England heard of this, the rumor is that he literally fell on his ass in disbelief. How could someone turn down that much power? Turns out, he really admired Washington after that.

And after two terms, when Washington stepped down(!), the 1796 election was the first peaceful transfer of power in history. And in 1800, when Vice President Jefferson beat sitting President Adams, it was a true test of our democracy--that the president peacefully stepped down after losing an election (to his own VP, nonetheless).

I guess what I'm saying is this: we forget what a brave and new idea the presidency was back then. And really, we're not that far removed. The country is constantly reinventing itself and reinventing what freedom means.

I'm a cynical person, so I hear you when you complain that freedoms have been limited recently. But look: slavery ended, women got the right to vote, the Civil Rights movement, the voting age lowering to 18 so that draftees could vote; these are all major strides that the country has taken in the past, and there is no reason that this country can't make other great strides in the future.

That's where your vote comes in.

Don't listen to the polls. Don't say, "Well, my states going Red or Blue with or without me, so why should I vote either way?" That doesn't give the democratic process any respect. The vote should reflect the will of the people, and even if that means that you don't get to give electoral votes to your candidate of choice, you should let your opinion be heard.

I've voted in four elections now (Jeez, I'm getting old). And--at least in the first three--I've never voted for the winner. Actually, I never even voted for second place, either. Last time, my candidate didn't even pull up a distant third.

How my vote goes this year, we'll have to wait and see.

But please, take the time to go out and vote. If you haven't registered, vote anyway. Fill out a provisional ballot and register at the polling place. Take part in the brave experiment that voting is.