Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?

…and never brought to mind?

Maybe.

That’s because the Inverse Square Law says so. And the Inverse Square Law eventually works its way on all relationships…including extended family members.

So what does the Inverse Square Law have to say about this? Well, the simplified version is that the intensity of a relationship falls off more and more quickly the farther away you are from it…until you’re down to practically nothing.

This came to mind as I was looking at the list of people we send Christmas cards and family newsletters to, and thinking about the five people who would be culled from it in the coming year. People who I haven’t heard from in like forever. And after I thought about it a bit, I realized that I was OK with culling them…because the Inverse Square Law had had its way with them, and maybe it was time to let them fade out. Maybe, for them, the Inverse Square Law had had its way with me long ago, and they were more than happy to let me fade away, but I kept sending those damned cards and newsletters.

But really, think about it…your best friend from high school, your old college roommate(s), all the people you hung out with at your old job, even your cousins from across town that you used to play with all the time…as you go farther away and see them less, the relationship is bound to fade as time goes on; and it’ll fade more quickly as more time goes on.

Unless, of course, you are intentional…or even unintentional…about keeping it up.

What are the intentional ways of keeping it up…of keeping the relationships from fading? The usual things: regular cards, letters, email, phone calls, and visits….in both directions. If one party thinks they’re doing all the heavy lifting, resentment will speed up the work of the Inverse Square Law.

And yet sometimes, even with being intentional about trying to keep up a friendship, there comes a point where it starts to feel forced and unnatural. There comes a point where you realize that maybe it’s time to let the other person go. After five years you still have a lot in common. But after 10, 20, 30, or more, your lives have diverged to the point where you have nothing in common anymore except some fuzzy memories from “back then.” Memories which may not be enough to shore up this fading relationship. There comes a point where you ask yourself if you’d still be friends with this person if you both met each other now for the first time.

What are the unintentional ways of keeping a friendship up? Well, one of the best known ones is Facebook.

Facebook is an odd hybrid of both intentional and unintentional. Yes, you’re intentional about joining Facebook. Yes, you’re intentional about accepting someone as a friend, or asking to be theirs once you find out that they’re on. And yes, you intentionally joined that group dedicated to your old high school, your old hometown, the choir you traveled across the country with when you were in college, or some other organization you were a member of at one time. Yes, you were intentional about all that. But after that, a lot becomes unintentional and coincidental in a way that feels very natural and unforced.

It becomes unintentional because Facebook’s magical algorithm has things randomly pop up in your feed from these people every now and then, for you to see, reminding you that they existed. And the beauty is that they didn’t have to specifically target you, which could be awkward. You just happened to be in the “virtual hallway” when they walked by. And if you happen to comment on one of those posts, you briefly enter their lives again, in a natural and unforced way.

As long as you are Facebook friends with someone, the work of the Inverse Square Law is slowed down.

And yet…and yet…sometimes there does come a time to realize that it’s time to let go of someone who used to be a friend. And sometimes you’re relieved when they let you go. Which brings us back to my original question:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot…and never brought to mind?

I’m thinking that sometimes auld acquaintance should be let go.

But...I’ll privately drink an occasional cup of kindness to those I’ve let go…and who’ve let me go.

Including the five I’m culling from my mailing list for next year.

What's Your Holiday Bubble?

A few weeks ago I was walking through the “seasonal” section of Target when a little girl grabbed a bright blue and white gift bag and asked her mother, “What’s this?” When her mother answered that it was a gift bag for Chanukah, the puzzled kid asked “What’s Chanukah?”

To her credit, her mother said that it was a Jewish holiday celebrated around the same time as Christmas, rather than the old “It’s the Jewish Christmas” that so many of my Jewish friends absolutely hate. And yet, I was still surprised that her mother wasn’t able to give her the Reader’s Digest version of the Chanukah story that I assumed everyone knew…after all, I learned it in kindergarten, when Miss Laughlin, my very Irish teacher, asked us all to bring in empty paper towel and toilet paper rolls so that we could make a menorah for our bulletin board. Or maybe she could explain, but just didn’t feel like doing it right there in the middle of Target.

Now, the fact that this girl, who was at least 10 years old, didn’t know what Chanukah was, when I knew at age five, got me thinking about the “holiday bubble” that most of us Christians live in. The holiday bubble that some of my Jewish friends complain about, where they know much more about our holidays than we do about theirs.

And then I thought some more, and realized that we all live in holiday bubbles. My Jewish friends may know all about Christmas because they can’t avoid it, but how many of them know anything about any major Islamic holidays? How many of my Islamic friends know anything about any Hindu holidays? How many of my Hindu friends know anything about Kwanzaa?

And how many people have any idea what December 17^th was?

Let’s face it, we all live in holiday bubbles where, if we’re part of the mainstream group, we pretty much just know our holidays, and the barest minimum about anyone else’s. And if we’re not part of the mainstream, we know our own religious/cultural holidays as well as those of the prevailing culture.

But not much about anyone else’s.

And that’s perfectly logical and normal.

That little girl and her mother, who knew next to nothing about Chanukah are no more to be disparaged than the Jewish girl and her mother who know next to nothing about Ramadan, or the Muslim boy and his mother who know next to nothing about Divali.

This country is home to so many people from so many different religions and cultures, that unless you’re an anthropologist (or a librarian), it’s next to impossible for any one person to know all there is to know about everyone’s holidays.

So I think we should all cut each other a little slack. I especially think that those of us who are in religions and cultures outside of the American mainstream should cut everyone a little slack, because as I mentioned before, it’s highly likely that they don’t know much about some other culture’s celebrations.

And yet…I wouldn’t be doing my duty, both as a former teacher and a current librarian, if I let that mother, or anyone else just go their own way without taking the time to learn a little something when the subject of someone else’s holiday comes up. So I recommended a book to them.

And to you…I recommend something as simple as just spending a few minutes with Wikipedia. Yes, I know what some people say about it being unreliable because “anyone can edit it”, but my favorite quote about it is “good enough to settle a bar bet, but probably not something you’d want to cite in your dissertation.”

Once again, I’m gonna say that we all live in “holiday bubbles”...or maybe cultural bubbles is the better term. So before you complain about someone from the mainstream getting the information wrong about your celebration, stop to consider just how much you know about the celebrations of the next group over.

And I hope you enjoyed Beethoven’s Birthday!

What if it Was Different?

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, and the complaints are gonna start about the commercialization of “our” religious holiday. Complaints that have been going on for at least 100 years.

But what if things were different? I mean, there’s no real reason why The Feast of the Nativity has to be held on December 25^th. There’s no historical evidence to show that that’s when Jesus was actually born. In fact, little clues in the story about shepherds watching their flocks by night seem to point to a different time of year.

So why do we celebrate Christmas when we do?

The short answer is because the Church tried to calm down an already established, and pretty wild, pagan holiday season by putting a religious holiday there.

That’s sort of like scheduling your wedding for the 4^th of July.

And instead of Christmas calming down the previous Yuletide, it took on the aspects of the already existing 800-pound gorilla. That’s right, Christmas isn’t the 800-pound holiday season gorilla, Yuletide is; and it influences everything that comes across its path.

But what if things were different?

What if Christmas was celebrated at some other time?

What if we celebrated Christmas in June or July?

It would be a totally different holiday…I mean holy day…wouldn’t it? It would have none of the trappings of the gift-giving Yuletide celebration that would still be going on at the end of the year, and that everyone would feel a little freer about celebrating, since it wasn’t tied to any one religion. It would belong to “us” alone, and we wouldn’t have to complain about it being commercialized and trivialized.

It would get about as much publicity outside the Church as Pentecost. Actually…it would probably get about as much attention in the church as Pentecost. We’d prepare for it for a week or two, observe it in church that day, and then on Monday morning, it would be back to the same old grind. OK, so we might still be singing Christmas hymns for the next two weeks…but only amongst ourselves.

Let me repeat that one: only amongst ourselves.

No one else outside the Church would know, or care about it. There’d be no Charlie Brown Christmas because it wouldn’t be a big cultural holiday anymore. I doubt that there’d be a Charlie Brown Yule either, since the premise of the original was the conflict between the religious and secular holidays. In fact, there wouldn’t be any Christmas specials anymore, because it would be an internal Church day. Yuletide specials, however, would abound; and no one would complain about the commercialization of the Yuletide season.

There also wouldn’t be six weeks of publicly singing and hearing Christmas hymns along with the secular Yuletide stuff. Some people, who aren’t Christians, might actually like not being bombarded with stuff from a religion they don’t belong to for six weeks.

Although we might still have to put up with Last Winter I Gave You My Heart for that long.

And this brings up something worth thinking about: Perhaps if we had Christmas all to ourselves, we’d lose all opportunity to talk to other people about our religion. We’d lose the opportunity to talk about the annual Christmas pageant, what music our church is doing, what our family Christmas traditions are…religious and secular.

Yes, as much as we may lament the apparent trivializing of our holy day, having it placed where it is gives us an ability to talk about it with others that keeping it to ourselves doesn’t.

So maybe the Church didn’t shoot itself in the foot when they placed the Feast of the Nativity smack dab in the middle of the Yuletide season all those years ago.

And maybe those of us in the church need to be a little better at recognizing that there are two celebrations going on at the same time, and not getting into a little snit when some of the 4^th of July creeps into our wedding.

Because some of our wedding also creeps into the 4^th of July.

The Santa Lie?

Warning! Hide this from your children if they’re still of a certain age!

When I was in my mid to late 20s, I knew or heard of quite a few people who said that they never intended to do the Santa thing with their kids, because they didn’t want to lie to them. These were generally the same people who held children’s picture books in disdain, and intended to start their kid of with King Lear; or who thought that baby talk was childish and degrading, and would only speak to them in full, adult, sentences.

Well, of course baby talk is childish…that’s why it’s called “baby talk.” And as for it being degrading, it may be so if you’re talking to a 35-year-old that way, but linguists have shown that that helps children acquire language faster. So nana-nana-boo-boo to those people.

But let’s get back to the anti-Santa people. A lot of them refused to do it on the premise of “Well, when they find out that we lied to them about this, then they won’t believe us about anything else.”

“Reindeer shit!” I say. My parents “lied” to me about Santa, and I’m none the worse for it.

It was easy to ignore these people as not having any bearing on my life…until I married someone who voiced misgivings about the whole Santa thing, and didn’t want to “lie” to any children we might have.

I quickly decided to nip that one in the bud by saying, “So…if we go to Walt Disney World someday, are you gonna be totally truthful to the kid and say ‘Look, there’s a person in a Mickey Mouse suit!” or are you gonna go with the Disney magic and say “Look! There’s Mickey!’?”

That pretty much ended that discussion, and a few years later, when we took our first daughter to Sesame Place, Cheryl insisted on getting her picture taken with her favorite character…Big Bird (or rather, some person in a Big Bird suit).

But I found out years later that the “lying” thing wasn’t really what it was all about. Especially since she could easily go with calling costumed people at theme parks by their character names. It was really about the surveillance and coercion thing. It was about the whole Big Brother aspect of Santa spying on the kid and using that as a carrot and stick to get the kid to behave. That’s what she didn’t want to lie about.

And I can agree with that.

For what it’s worth, we never told our kids one way or the other if Santa was real. If they wanted to sit on Santa’s lap at the mall, fine; if they didn’t, that was fine too. If they specifically asked Santa for something, and we knew what it was, it would arrive wrapped in Santa paper, but it would never specifically say that it was from Santa. But for those of you who are still hung up on the “lie”…even the implied lie…let me give you a still more excellent way of looking at it.

Many years ago, when the internet was young, I stumbled across a piece about why Santa was a kachina. To make a long story short, this woman, who was never into Santa in the first place, thought about the kachinas that protect and look after the Native children in villages in the Southwestern US. Every year the children watch the kachinas dance, and get dolls of the various kachinas. And then, when a boy reaches a certain age, he is taken to a ceremony where the kachinas unmask themselves, and he finds out that these are the men of his community. It’s also then that he becomes a kachina himself.

At that point she saw the whole Santa thing as less of a lie and more of a way of making magic for the community and a rite of passage. It’s not that there is no Santa, but that we’re all Santa. Not just for ourselves, but for others too.

In our house, Cheryl, Sofie, and I are all card-carrying members of what I call The League of Santas.

And that’s no lie.

The Elf on the Shelf vs the Mensch on the Bench

You know, as ubiquitous as it seemed to be during the past few holiday seasons, I wasn’t really aware of the Elf on the Shelf until about three years ago.

Let me rephrase that. I knew it was there. You couldn’t help but trip over them in stores. But I didn’t know what it was all about. I just figured it was a cute little decoration for your house. Then the Mensch on the Bench came out, and when I heard about him, I learned about the Elf…and quickly decided which one I liked better.

Turns out that the premise of the Elf on a Shelf, is that the elf sits in your house every day, checking on you, to give a report back to Santa on whether you’ve been naughty or nice. A lot of people have criticized this as being a little creepy, and just one more case of the “surveillance state” creeping into our lives. Some have simplified the elf’s job as being there waiting for you to do something naughty, that he can then report back to Santa.

The Mensch on the Bench comes with a different premise. First of all, let me explain what a mensch is. In German it simply means a person, a human being. But in Yiddish it’s so much more than that. In Yiddish a mensch is a person of good character, a person who is always looking out for others, a person you should strive to emulate. When I heard the creator speak about on NPR back in 2013, I came away with the impression that the job of the mensch is not to catch you when you mess up, but to watch over you while you do good…to encourage you to be more like him. And he reports back to no one.

Well…I immediately knew which one I liked better. The elf reminded me just a little too much of every tattletale I’ve ever dealt with (especially those I’m related to). The mensch was more like a silent cheerleader to do good.

With the results of this year’s presidential election, a lot of us who voted for Hillary are in Elf on a Shelf mode…just waiting…hoping even…for Trump to screw up, so we can say, “I told you so.” But maybe this is counterproductive. Perhaps, instead, we should be more like the mensch, waiting, hoping, for the new President to break the caricature we have of him…and it’s every bit as much a caricature as the one that “they” had of Hillary…and offering encouragement along the way.

Several years ago my wife gave me a t-shirt for my birthday that had “mensch” on it, written in the Hebrew letters that Yiddish was classically written in.

You’ll find me wearing it, and sitting on my bench.

Who Are the Poor?

A few years ago my teenaged daughter asked me a question that stopped me dead in my tracks, and I’ll pose it to you too:

Are the poor people in Third World countries really poor, or are they poor just because they know what we have?

I’ve give you a moment or two to let that sink in and to let you think about it. This was not the snarky comment of a spoiled middle-class kid who thinks way too much. Well, OK, maybe she thinks way too much, but she is definitely not spoiled. This was really a very good question.

Think about it…if people living in certain parts of Asia, Africa, and South America were living their indigenous lifestyle, with absolutely no knowledge of how those of us in the industrialized world live, they’d probably be pretty happy. Sure, they’d still be living in mud huts, but they’d only be comparing themselves to the family in their village with the bigger mud hut. On their scale, they’d be middle class.

And indeed, those people who are still living indigenously probably don’t see themselves as being poor.

However…once those people are exposed to images of what the rest of us have, once they leave their villages and enter the big city to try to “make it,” suddenly, they realize that they’re “poor.”

This means that the people we think of in our own culture as being among the poorest of the poor, are probably rich by Third World standards. This might be why so many of the refugees who reach our shores look at their living conditions in a much different way than our “native poor” do. To the refugees it’s a huge step up from where they were, and they intend to keep stepping. Our native poor, on the other hand, see themselves as at the bottom with no reasonable hope of improvement. The “baby steps” that don’t seem worth the effort to our own poor are huge advancements to those who came from far less, and so they are willing to put forth the effort.

But I seem to have taken off on a slight tangent here. Let’s go back to the original question: are the poor people in Third World countries really poor, or are they poor just because they know what we have?

I’ve always said that the difference between the middle class now and the middle class of 40 or 50 years ago is that the middle class then saw themselves as “lucky poor people.” Today’s middle class tends to see itself as “not quite rich enough.” Turning my daughter’s question on its ear, do so many of us feel that we don’t have enough because we really don’t, or because we’ve seen too many images on TV and in movies of the super-rich, and feel resentment because we don’t have what they do?

This isn’t to say that there aren’t people who are legitimately poor. But let’s not confuse true poverty with not having the latest stuff, and with not living with the same comforts as someone else. After all, I’m sure that no one would call the Amish poor. They are rich in ways that many of us are not, and yet, it’s also a lifestyle that most of us wouldn’t want to live.

So, to answer my daughter’s question, there are poor people, there are legitimately poor people both in the Third World, and here at home; and it’s not simply about them knowing what we have, and being jealous. And to make things worse, sometimes our abundance contributes directly to their poverty.

However, we, knowing what they don’t have, should feel some sense of responsibility toward them, and try to help them in some way. So this Thanksgiving, in addition to being thankful for what you have, I’d like you to take the extra step of trying to help someone who could only wish to have what you’ve been blessed with.

Now What?

OK, so what many of us have considered the unthinkable has happened…Donald Trump has been elected president in another really close election that featured the Electoral College anomaly that only ever happens when the difference between the percentage of votes the two candidates got is a fraction of a fraction. And with that in mind, I want to say two very important words to those who seem to think the world is going to end:

Calm down.

Really. Just calm down.

And now five more words that you probably won’t believe I’m about to say:

Give the guy a chance.

Really. Maybe he’ll surprise us. Maybe he’ll grow into the job. Maybe he’ll tell some of his more hateful followers to behave. Maybe monkeys will fly out my butt. But let’s treat him better than Congress and some pockets of the rest of the country treated President Obama for the past eight years. Let’s give him a chance and see what he does. Let’s see if he manages to make good on all the promises he made…especially with Congress on his side.

A year from now some of us will be eating a lot of crow. It’ll either be those of us who thought that a Trump presidency would bring on the apocalypse or those who thought that all of his xenophobic, racist, misogynistic talk was just a lot of bluster.

And quite frankly, I hope that we’re the ones eating crow; it would be a whole lot safer for everyone. I hope that we’re pleasantly surprised by what he does. But…if he does turn out to be just as dangerous as we thought he would be, I hope it doesn’t take very long for his supporters who are decent people to recognize it, and get out their dinner plates.

Both candidates had their flaws, and for many of us Trump’s perceived flaws were more important than Hillary’s perceived flaws. Both candidates were victims of a lot of hyperbole from the other side…many Trump supporters honestly believed that Hillary was going to rescind the Second Amendment (really hard to do) and many Hillary supporters honestly believed that Trump was going to make all Muslims in this country wear yellow crescents (heck, we’ve already sent Japanese-Americans to concentration camps during World War II, so this wasn’t that much of a stretch).

I know that we thought that Hillary would try to make this country not just a better place for her supporters, but for all of us (despite themselves). I also know that many Hillary supporters were afraid that Trump and his supporters were only concerned about themselves, and not the multicultural, multi-religious, multi-sexual rest of us.

We’ll have to wait and see. Although I’m not above the little bit of schadenfreude that hopes that the things he ruins affect his supporters first, I hope this President Trump thing works out for us. Not just for them, but for us all.

So let’s give the guy a chance. If he’s as dangerous and unqualified as many of us thought he was, we’ll find out soon enough; and there will be time to deal with him. But maybe he won’t be that bad.

In which case I’ll gladly let the monkeys fly out my butt.