old stuff

Wednesday Witness: Wanting What You Have

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

There’s a saying I ran across somewhere:

Contentment isn’t having what you want but wanting what you have.

At the time it seemed like wisdom, and there is a grain of truth in it: The more stuff we accumulate, the more we tend to want, so getting everything you want not only doesn’t lead to contentment, but creates a self-defeating cycle of desire for bigger, better, and just MORE things.

Mostly I have made peace with not having the best of everything, and I’ve reached a point in my life at which I am trying to detach and downsize. However, as I attempt to rid myself of so much stuff, I find that I do want what I have. I want it a great deal.

For example, I have accumulated a lot of books over the years. The ones I’ve read and kept are wonderful, and although I could get them at the library if I wanted to read them again, I love my collection and struggle to decide which volumes to part with. The books I haven’t read, I keep in the earnest if foolish hope that I will find time to read them one day soon. Then, I tell myself, if I am unlikely to reread them, I can get rid of them. Why should I get rid of them now?

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Movie Break: A Good Old-Fashioned Scare

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

Halloween night was always a favorite as a kid—and as a dad, when our kids were old enough to enjoy it. Dressing up is always fun, and, like reading fairy tales, I think traipsing about the neighborhood after dark trying to scare friends and family (not to mention the delight in a being scared and then laughing about it afterward) helps children learn to manage their fears.

Plus, CANDY! (Of course.)

Now all but Lily have left the nest, and she is more inclined to roam the neighborhood with her middle-schooler friends than with her parents. I stayed home this year to hand out candy. I created a giant spider from three pumpkins, two gourds, eight long and crooked birch branches, and a length of rope; this Arachno-Lantern and Lily’s Schnoz-o-Lantern greeted the children and teens who haunted our doorstep, and I got to enjoy the comments and the costumes, plus two good, old-fashioned scary movies on the over-the-air MOVIES! television channel.

I’m not a big horror movie guy, especially these days. Scenes of torture and gore are not my speed; I prefer a little drama (we loved A Quiet Place), a lot of humor (Shaun of the Dead was a guilty pleasure), or a classic, somewhat campy, monster movie. The latter is what I got on All Hallows Eve.

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Byline: J. Thorp

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

I was doing some work for an old friend and former employer today and found myself reflecting on the wide variety of writing I’ve undertaken for pay in the past 30 years. Beginning as an undergraduate working in the Yale School of Music Concert Office, I’ve been creating marketing materials and writing profiles, features, articles, and speeches on everything from interior design to kung fu to the public impact of higher education.

So, just for kicks, here are a few recent bylines I’ve rediscovered. For those that are available online, I’ve included links.

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Grandpa Vibes

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

Blogger’s Note: Now that I’m writing for a living again, I am trying to find my way back to writing for the heck of it (i.e., for the sheer enjoyment). Wish me luck!

A curious thing happened at the St. Michael Catholic Church Fall Festival last month. The celebration was just getting underway on the church grounds; I was setting up a St. Vincent de Paul display in the gathering space of the church (which also serves as our cry room), and Saturday evening Mass was about to culminate in the reception of Holy Eucharist.

Just then, a young father approached me with his infant daughter in his arms. I am familiar with this young man: We are close friends with his wife’s family and attended his wedding, though I’m not sure I ever spoke to him directly before this moment.

He leaned close and whispered, so as not to disturb the other parents praying nearby: “Would you mind bringing our baby down to her mom? She’s working in the food tent outside. It’s almost time for Communion, and baby needs mom-time!”

I was not expecting this, but the prospect of snuggling this baby, even for a few minutes, was irresistible. “Sure!” I said, extending my arms to receive the precious bundle, “Happy to do it!”

“I knew if I found someone like you or John*, I’d be all set,” the young man said. “Thank you.” Then he knelt and returned to prayer.

As I carefully descended the stairs, I nuzzled the fuzzy head near my chin and a wave of infant sweetness swept over me. Her eyes were open wide, but she seemed content. I stopped at the bottom, closed my eyes, smiled, and sighed, briefly contemplating if it would be a violation of trust to find a quiet corner to enjoy this blessing while she was peaceful and quiet. I shook off the desire and headed out to the festival grounds.

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Mr. Fix-It?

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Back in the summer of 2019, my 1966 Ford F-100, Rosa, died along the side of the road between Elk River and home. She was my daily driver to Saint Andrew and back, and it was a sad day when the tow truck operator rolled her off the flat bed to her shady spot beside the garage.

The neighbor boy, watching the action over the fence with the acute interest of a future heavy equipment operator, said: “Best. TV show. Ever.” He didn’t sense my loss.

As of this weekend, Rosa rides again. Yesterday, she joined the parade of tarp-lined pickups and minivans loaded with leaf bags headed to the compost site to remove the leavings of autumn. She stalled once and sputtered twice at stop signs and traffic lights; she also seeped oil from nearly every seal and gasket for the first couple trips, until they swelled and began to hold again.

I told Jodi during our morning prayers yesterday that I knew we had a busy day planned, but I wanted to do at least one thing that I just flat-out enjoyed.

I’m an emotional guy. The first load of leaves choked me up a bit. I had a big, goofy smile all the way home. Rosa’s back!*

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