Well, looky here: I’m changing blog addresses and titles. As interesting as Viable Thirds may have been in my head, what I’m doing here really has little to do with public policy or opinion, and much more to do with writing and music, etc.
So over the next few days, Viable Thirds will be gradually phased out in favor of Werd-Fu. What better venue for sparring over the written word?
The drive home tonight was made infinitely more enjoyable by an NPR interview with a legend I only barely recall from my younger days: Merle Haggard. At age 70, he’s got a new disk, a bluegrass sound this time around, and the sand and wisdom of years in his voice.
The interview was a breath of fresh air in the midst of campaign coverage, and I encourage you to check it out here. If you’ve got the connection for it, click Listen Now. It’s so much better, funnier, and more musical (not to mention quite a bit longer) live.
It got me thinking: first, about my last post, and his favorite song of the new batch, “Learning to Live With Myself.” Sounds like it’s a lifelong journey.
And second, about the notion of “growing old gracefully.” Too often our culture seems ashamed of our aging population; consequently, sometime older folks are embarrassed or ashamed to slow down or show infirmity.
But I remember Dad’s old friend Louie Randall, who spoke in a wheezing whisper through a hole in his windpipe and swung a three-pound sledge like it was a meat tenderizer well into his 70s. And I recall the the first time I saw Johnny Cash’s hauntingly beautiful video rendition of Nine Inch Nail’s “Hurt”—gazing into the camera, frail and unapologetic. And I remember Pope John Paul II, hunched and trembling, waving off his aides (dare I say irritably?) to give hope to hundreds of thousands of young people from around the world. They didn’t turn away, but loved him for it.
And I hope that I one day I’ll be every bit as weathered and white and tough as these old men. In this life of ease and plenty, however, it seems unlikely.
Last year’s lengthy Thorp holiday letter opened with a Chinese verse from Ching An:
The laugh’s on me:
this year’s man
is last year’s man
A year ago, I read this as a variation on the old dog/new trick theme, but this year it resonates more deeply. This New Year’s Day, I read it as a humorous expression of self-awareness: “Y’know what? This is what I’m given to work with—no more and no less. Might as well make the best of it.”
I’ve struggled with this idea for years now. When Jodi and I got married, my Yale classmates were politely supportive and quietly incredulous—like, Why the hell would he tie himself down? And why would she commit to a guy without a job, a house, or a bank account?
When we left South Dakota for Michigan, some of my friends back home talked about their expectations for me as an Ivy League alumnus. When we left Michigan for Minnesota, I was so frustrated with the state of the world, I very publicly said I was headed back to class a degree in public policy and shot at changing some small part of the world. We managed the latter: instead of grad school, we welcomed another baby into our home.
In my mind, however, grad school was still the next step, so when I left corporate marketing for University Relations, I made a point of telling my colleague I was hitting the books. And I have: in my current job, I read more than I have in years … just not for credit.
This past year has been a revelation. First off, I’m not sure I ever intended to go to grad school—I mean, it’s been 11 years now. Second, nobody who matters to me cares whether I do or not, as long as I keep reading, writing, and learning.
Finally, I like the Jim I am right now. A lot. And I like the direction I’m headed since I quit thinking about classes. I’ve got a screenplay and a book to work on. I’m doing kung fu with the kids and hunting with new friends. I’m getting more involved in our church, and talking to our priests has restored my confidence that my head’s on straight—as a result, I’m not scared to show my Catholicism to non-Catholic friends, or talk Buddhism and evolutionary theory and hip-hop with the church-goers.
It feels good to feel good in your own skin.
So here’s what I aspire to this year—the way forward, I hope:
1. Daily tai chi with the young masters. We warms up with crunches, push-ups, etc., and cool off on the stationary bikes, and in the middle, we sink our chi, raise our pulse rates, break a sweat, and learn a little something. Plus weekly classes with Shih-fu Figueroa—what more do you need? They love it, I need it, and we could all use the time together.
2. Daily public writing. Gotta be done. Blogging twice a week, plus fiction and non-fiction. Journals and notebooks are great, but they don’t count toward the public stuff.
3. Biodiesel or waste veggie oil in the Deezledub. We’re recycling more, converting to fluorescents, and putting in a bigger garden this year—but a grease car in this fast-food car culture? That’s almost poetic!
4. Continue investing in the Old Ways: hunting, fishing and camping. Kids need that, not to mention dads …
5. Focus on the people in front of me. You know: quit typing and come out from behind my desk. Answer that, “How was your weekend?” briefly, then ask, “How ’bout yours?” And listen.
I’ve also got a long-running goal of telling people I care about that I love them. Some folks aren’t comfortable with that, but every year I try to expand the list a bit more. So if you’re on the receiving end, and it doesn’t feel right, don’t worry. I get all I need from saying it; you don’t owe me a thing in return.
And if this doesn’t get us where we’re going, hey—there’s always next year. No doubt I’ll be the same guy.
Blogger’s Note: Over Christmas 2003, we became annual pen-pals with an elf named Siberius Quill, and he has again delivered this year! Transcriptions of the 2003, 2004, 2005 and 2006 letters from him can be seen in the Archives.
My dearest Children!
Another year spent, and quickly! They say, among Your Folk, that the years go Ever Faster the older you get—imagine, then, when your age reaches into the centuries! It seems only Yesterday I was introducing myself, and here we are, Old Hands, as they say.
The Watchers Corps tells me you’ve been Exceptionally Good, all told. All Children have their naughty moments, but according to your assigned Day-Watcher Seamus Farseer, yours are scattered and relatively minor in the Big Scheme of Things. Scopes, as we call him, lacks the patience of his grandfather, the astronomer Nebular—he quickly tires of good families like yours! Old Nebbs has scolded him many a time for betting cups of hot cocoa on the wrongdoing of Other Children!
Lady Emma Rose, now in Kindergarten: already you’ve made a name for Yourself as a child of Honesty and Kindness. It is hard, no doubt, to be the Only Girl among Boys—but Always Remember: it is more important to be Nice than to be Noticed! You are lovely and polite, sparkling like the snow, as your Dziadzi’s song says, so you’ll always be seen, regardless. And young Master Trevor: with So Many older kids about, it is no wonder you feel Overlooked, but believe me: we see and hear you, too! Patience, little Master: Good things come—truly!
Magnificent questions this year, Masters Brendan and Gabriel! To G. first: You asked how Father Christmas writes so well, by which I suppose you mean, how does he make such Splendid Letters when he writes Children by hand. Well, the Old Man has written the notes for So Many Christmases now, he’s had plenty of practice! But more importantly, he makes his Joy (which is Abundant!) manifest through his pen! Think of it this way: You must feel what you want your Reader to feel, then imagine what you want them to see, and only then put pen to paper!
And B., you asked about the Differences between St. Nicholas of Myra and Santa Claus, aside from the obvious—by which I suppose you mean the fact that Nicholas was an Archbishop who died circa 342, while your Santa is evergreen and ever-present (not to mention no longer a priest!). Sister Mary Faith Splendour of the Devout Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Winter tells me that this is an Especially Common question among Children your age. She reminds us that the simplest answer is best when you’re young—and that is, there is no difference; they are one and the same.
But you, Master Brendan, are a decade Wiser than when you arrived, so she shares this: The differences are all those you expect between the physical and the spiritual; the mortal and the immortal. While a Turkish priest can only work what Miracles own his imperfect Faith and frail Form will allow, the Spirit of Christmases Past, Present, and Future can do whatever needs doing, on a whim, fueled by the Faith of millions of people just like you! Miracles are difficult for Human Minds to comprehend, which is why your thinking deeply on these subjects is So Important!
Which brings me to it, at last: There is something I must ask of you, B., as Eldest Brother. As a Tweener, as you say, you may be called upon to take on New Responsibilities with regard to Christmas, as your Father did when he was ten. This new role is of the utmost importance and is, for Now, entrusted to You and You Alone. In a quiet moment, ask your Folks—I warn you, they might be caught off guard, but I’ve no doubt they’ll share it with you The Instant they are Ready!
Happy Christmas and Safe Travels to your Busia and Dziadzi. God Bless You and your Family. I wish you All the Best in the New Year—and Always!
Yours truly,
Siberius Quill
P.S. You may have noticed, as I have, that the older children get, the smaller their gifts (video games, for example, instead of great rumbling racetracks!). Since Santa’s sack is Magical, of course, this has no physical effect on how much he can carry—but it does require a recalibration of the spells. Two Mathematimagicians, Voluminous Theorim and Lucia Croix-Parallux, are responsible for such geometric calculations in the Fourth and Fifth Dimensions—assuring that everyone’s gifts show up precisely where they should in Space and Time.
Blogger’s Note: Over Christmas 2003, we became annual pen-pals with an elf named Siberius Quill. Transcriptions of the 2003, 2004 and 2005 letters from him can be seen in the Archives. Here is the letter from 2006.
My dearest Children!
A very Merry Christmas to you all, Dear Children! Rest assured, your Wish Lists and Artwork arrived in fine form, and I must say, you are becoming Quite Accomplished as Artists! I shared your pictures with several Friends before passing them on to your Father Christmas. Dmitri Longbristle, an Elfin cookie-painter and candy-striper, loved them! (We laugh and call him “Drips,” although he reminds us that he never makes a mistake he can’t eat, so nobody’s ever seen one—truly!). Drips was most impressed, Master Brendan, with your steady hand and eye for detail.
As for you, Master Gabriel and Miss Emma Rose, my cousins Versius Goodcheer and Sketchum Quill, who design Christmas cards, said you should consider making cards Yourselves next year! Your dear Parents and Grandparents would love them, no doubt.
Santa loved them, as well, of course—and your Lists were quite reasonable. He is Especially Pleased that the four of you play so well together—even sharing in fine fashion with young Master Trevor. Don’t think it goes Unnoticed! Certainly, there are Things he cannot have—Things he would swallow and Things he would break—but he wants so badly to be like the Three of You. And I can’t think of three fine role models. Be good to him, that he may grow to be good, as well.
As always, of course, Santa brings What’s Best—so you’ll get some of What You Want, some Things you didn’t ask for, and some Things not at all. It can be hard to remember that Christmas, in all its radiant splendor, is not about Things a whit—but about Family, Humility, and Peace. If you are Lucky enough to have those things, give Thanks and be Content …
That’s a Hard Idea for young and budding Brains. Perhaps the eldest brother can explain? You’ve done well, B.—reading aloud my Old Letters so G. and “Rosie” (as the little one says) to teach them How and Why we do What we do. You may even have done too well! I was amazed to see not a Single Question this year!
I suspect that the younger Children will have fresh Concerns in the future. In the meantime, if you have Questions between now and Thanksgiving Next, do ask your Father. He is a good Resource on most things Santa, and loves the Spirit of Christmas that we Elves and Kris Kringle embody. And your lovely Mother—she embodies the Christmas before Bishop Nicholas was a Saint! As your parents’ Christmas Letter said, your “very own Mary,” a woman of God who lives for the Good of Others.
Happy Christmas and Safe Travels. May the Skies be blue, and the Earth, white, for your trip home. I wish you All the Best in the New Year—and Always!
God Bless You, Children, and your Family. Yours truly,
Siberius Quill
P.S. You’ve always taken an interest in my Elfin colleagues—tell your Dziadzi that our farrier, Frictz Grypsum, rubbed the hooves of the reindeer with a balm of bee’s wax, flint dust and mountain goat dander especially for rooftops as pitched as his!
Archangel Stomp 