Moonstruck

It's cherry season. Get 'em now or you won't get them at all.

I like that since it's not true of most produce. Asparagus, an early spring treat, has become a Thanksgiving staple (which is at least a venial sin). Blueberries are available fresh year round as are most other summer fruit. Add to that heat, air conditioning, underground walkways, and it's easy to lose touch with the fact that we're connected to the ebb and flow of seasons. But make no mistake about it, we are connected with the world as much as we erect barriers between the world and ourselves.

For example, a short article in the paper today begins "Sleepless night? Blame it on the full moon--even if you can't see it."

In the few days before and after a full moon... people took an average of five extra minutes to fall asleep, slept 20 minutes less per night and had 30 percent less deep sleep. 

Small wonder that on the nights around the full moon sleep volunteers reported that they didn't sleep as well as usual. And this was true even though they volunteers didn't know the moon was full and couldn't see the light of the moon through their windows.

While the scientists know there is a correlation, they admit that they don't know how it works. I suspect that, though it doesn't explain the mechanism behind the correlation, it's happens because we are connected to this world in fundamental ways that in our technologically advanced culture we ignore.

We can insulate ourselves from the seasons, pay no attention to the phases of the moon, and set bedtime and the alarm when it suits us rather than the light of the day, but we can't escape the rhythms inherent in creation because those rhythms are in us as part of the creation.

The next full moon isn't until August 21. If cherries are still in season, I'll plan to stay up late with a bowl full outside on the patio under the full moon. After all, we're not sleeping that night anyway.

Divorce After Mid-Life

In 2010, more than 600,000 people over the age of 50 got divorces.

A new study by the Center for Family and Demographic Research at Bowling Green State University found that the divorce rate for those over 50 doubled between 1990 and 2010. In fact, in 2010, one quarter of all divorces were to people over 50.

While it's not clear what specifically has caused the rise, researchers have some suggestions that are noted in the study.

First, because of earlier divorces, many over 50 are on second or even third marriages, that is, marriages that, according to the study, have a failure rate 2.5 times greater than first marriages.

Second, divorce is more accepted in society and, according to other studies, divorce tends to be contagious. If the people around you are divorcing, it becomes a more attractive option.

Third, more and more women work and women who work are financially able to go it alone.

Fourth, "lengthening life expectancies decrease the likelihood that marriages will end through death and increase the length of exposure to the risk of divorce."

Most important, the study points out that the meaning of marriage has changed from a life-long commitment to a commitment contingent on having my needs met. Or you could say we've gone from marriage "for as long as we both shall live" to "for as long as we both shall love" or at least (given no-fault divorce) until one of us is finished with the relationship. "Life-long marriages," they note, "are increasingly difficult to sustain in an era of individualism and lengthening life expectancies...."

So how do we keep our marriages from being among the casualties? By undoing the probable causes. Define your marriage as life-long. Remember it's "ours" not mine and even if you can go it alone, don't. Hang around with people who are happily married. I suspect marital satisfaction is contagious as well.

Old friends in their fifties recently got divorced. What a disaster for the two of them, their married and unmarried adult children, for sons-in-law and daughters-in-law, and for all those grandkids.

In contrast, a couple at church recently celebrated their 70th anniversary. I want Dottie and me to be like them.

Happy Hearts and Heart Health

The headline in the Washington Post Health and Science section reads: "A cheery attitude may be beneficial even for those with a family history of heart disease."

Negative emotions, including those associated with anxiety and depression, have been found to be hard on the heart. Might the opposite--feeling generally upbeat and happy about life--have the reverse effect and be beneficial to heart health?

It turns out that the answer is probably, yes. A study published in the American Journal of Cardiology looked at people with a family history of coronary artery disease and found that "People who were positive and felt good about their lives... were 33 percent less likely to have had heart problems than those who were not as upbeat."

Now, as with all studies, there are assorted caveats. But nonetheless, it seems reasonable that happy people are healthier than unhappy people.

It also occurs to me that even if it isn't true, happy people are... well, happy people are happier, that is, emotionally healthier even if they're not necessarily physically healthier. So all in all, I'll go with being happy, upbeat, cheerful, and positive.

But what about the problems in the world? How can we be happy in light of all that's going on in our families, communities, country, and world?

That is where faith comes in and there's no getting around it. You may or may not appreciate their politics, but three happy warriors come to mind, two of whom I had the privilege of knowing personally. Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, William F. Buckley, and Chuck Colson were up to the minute on the sorry state of the world. They faced business, family, and personal issues. They were highly opinionated and argued rigorously for what they believed even when their counsel was rejected. Even now, after their deaths, things are still not going their way. Yet sustained by lively faith, they wrote, spoke, and debated with cheerfulness.

As someone who has a family history of heart problems, I take this study as both a warning and as encouragement. Given the alternatives, I'll be a happy warrior.

Slots

Whether it's in Atlantic City, New Jersey, Laughlin, Nevada, or Biloxi, Mississippi, casinos across the country have one thing in common: senior citizens. Thousands of them flock to the gambling halls in cars, RVs, and casino owned busses. And most, absurdity of absurdities, play the slots.

I remember driving through Nevada once when I say a sign for a casino boasting "the loosest slots in Nevada." Their machines had a 96% pay out. This means two things. First, for every dollar you throw into the machine, you can expect 96 cents in return. That is, the gamblers always lose even if occasionally someone hits a jackpot. In fact, someone hitting a jackpot means that the average gambler gets less than a 96% payout. Second, it means that other casinos around the state are not nearly so generous. Atlantic City slots average less than a 91% payout.

According to an item in First Things, "Americans lost $92 billion gambling in 2007, about nine times what they lost in 1982." With the growth in the number of casinos and increase in internet gambling, the number today is probably even bigger.

The article goes on to quote Jay Evensen, associate editor of the Deseret News:

Gambling produces no product that can be sold or exported. It does, however, remove billions of hard-earned dollars from people who otherwise might spend or invest in things of value. It also takes money from other forms of recreation.

I've walked into enough casinos to have seen the senior spending their savings and I know that the places fill up the week Social Security checks come in the mail. It's tragic and it's a grave evil to prey on the elderly--and, thus, on their children.

I admit to have fed a few slots in the past, but I always keep a story my parents told me in mind. Years ago, they found a dime--one thin dime--in the tray of a slot machine in Las Vegas. One of them picked it up, put it in the slot, and pulled the handle. They won! Then, needless to say, they invested their winnings back into the machine and won even more. And so it went until, at one point, they had a couple of large cups full of dimes. An hour or so later, they had half a cup of dimes, then a quarter cup, then one thin dime. Into the slot it went never to be seen again.

They had a lot of fun, but it seemed to me at the time and still today that gambling and a good life before or after midlife mix about as well as oil and water.

On Education

Doodling about the internet, I came across two quotes about education. The first is from Nelson Mandela: "Education is the most powerful weapon we can use to change the world." And it seems to me that it's true--as far as it goes, which, it turns out, isn't very far.

Education will certainly "change the world," but not necessarily for the better. And changing the world for the better is the real challenge. North Korea has been carefully educating its people for generations, educating them to belief lies and in the process to be tyrant-worshipping automatons. Such education can be described in hip terms as an epic failure.

Closer to home, Michael Toscano and Peter Wood concluded in a recent National Association of Scholars report, that the things Bowdoin College, the elite Maine liberal arts school, does not teach includes:

Intellectual modesty. Self-restraint. Hard work. Virtue. Self-criticism. Moderation. A broad framework of intellectual history. Survey courses. English composition. A course on Edmund Spenser. A course primarily on the American Founders. A course on the American Revolution. The history of Western civilization from classical times to the present. A course on the Christian philosophical tradition. Public speaking. Tolerance toward dissenting views. The predicates of critical thinking. A coherent body of knowledge. How to distinguish importance from triviality. Wisdom. Culture. 

And, of course, Bowdoin isn't alone. An education that leaves such things to chance may change the world, but probably not for the better. This is particularly true if education is void of self-restraint, hard work, self-criticism, moderation, prudence, wisdom, and virtue.

The second quote is from the poet William Butler Yeats: "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." While our pails will be filled by education--you need information in order to think critically--real education uses the information as tinder and then strikes iron to flint so that sparks fly. Read a great book and things begin to happen internally and in our world.

They say, "It's never to late to have a happy childhood," but I'm not sure. Nonetheless of this I'm certain: It's never to late to get a well-rounded, well-grounded education. School, you may know is derived from the Latin word schola, meaning "leisure given to learning." and getting older in America typically means more leisure time. 

What better way to spend that time than striking sparks and lighting fires. We can overcome our own educational gaps and deficiencies, encourage young friends in their educations, and, if we choose wisely, change the world for the better.

Passing on the Family Destiny

Yesterday in my daily devotion, I read the story about King David's instructions to his heir, soon-to-be-king Solomon.

David wanted to build a temple to the LORD God, but God forbade him. He was a man of war and his son, Solomon, would be a man of peace (Solomon derives from shalom). The man of peace would build the temple, not the man of war. But while Solomon would build the temple after David's death--a temple David would never see--David was all excited about the prospects.

David commanded to gather together the aliens who were in the land of Israel, and he set stonecutters to prepare dressed stones for building the house of God. David also provided great stores of iron for nails for the doors of the gates and for clamps, as well as bronze in quantities beyond weighing, and cedar timbers without number.... (1Chronicles 22:2-4a)

When David died, Solomon inherited his title, his wealth, and his kingdom. And Solomon inherited a task, a project. In a sense, he inherited a destiny.

If you've lost your parents as I have, you may know all about inheriting houses and wealth and you surely know about inheriting stuff. The house gets sold and turned into cash. The cash is invested or spent. And the stuff... Heavens to Murgatroyd! What do you do with all the stuff?! You take some, your siblings take some, your kids take some, ebay takes some, and the local thrift stores take a ton. And sooner or later everything is gone. That's the way with stuff which is why it's such a mistake to build a life on creating consumerism. As singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn wrote, "Everything that exists in time runs out of time someday."

But a project, a task, a destiny doesn't exist in time the same way stuff does. It doesn't get used up. It gets worked on and accomplished.

I have no grand building project or family business to pass on to my son. You probably don't have those either. We do, however, have the opportunity even if our children are grown of handing them the work of faith, family, and a life of virtue--things they can in turn leave unfinished to their children. It's the way a family history of faith, hope, and love is built, a history that lasts forever.

Counting on Plan "B"

On Friday I used a recipe I found at the William-Sonoma website: Shrimp with Lemon en Papillote. It's shrimp, paprika, and lemon in a parchment paper bag steamed in the oven. I'd recommend it as it is or with this improvement: add some chopped andouille sausage. But let me caution you, the recipe says 10 minutes in the oven, but you should add another two or three minutes to the cooking time.

Needless to say, I know this because I had undercooked shrimp and once the parchment bag is broken, there's repairing it for another few minutes. So what to do? Revert to Plan "B." Even though the shrimp was poached, we tossed it in a hot skillet and finished it as a sauté. Was it as good as yours will be with extra cooking time? No, probably not. But it was good. Hurray for Plan "B."

Someone once said that most of life is Plan "B." We know what we want to do and the outcomes at which we're aiming, but things go wrong leaving us no choice but to quit or make the best of what we've got.

The family vacation to the beach ends up being on the rainiest week of the summer. So read, play games, and go out in the rain. As long as there's no lightening, you can even swim in the rain.

Your tee shot faded (let's be honest, it sliced) into the right ruff. Get out a 3-Wood and hit a brilliant recovery shot--or some kind of recovery shot at least. Move from almost unplayable to playable.

It's true in little things and it's true in big things. Life rarely goes according to Plan "A." How many of us who remember the Summer of Love are where we expected to be this many summers later? And nothing about that is going to change now that we're passing mid-life. The future will surprise us and require us to adjust plans, methods, and expectations.

We should by all means pursue Plan "A," but we can't forget contingency plans and we need to remember how to think on our feet. It is, I believe, one of the secrets to a good life after mid-life.

Our Daily Bread

Fourth of July began at our house with breakfast: blueberry almond pancakes. How a mixture of flour, baking soda, salt, eggs, butter, almond paste, almond extract, vanilla extract, and blueberries can possibly taste so good is one of life's great wonders. The day ended with barbecued baby back ribs and a bottle of Kinneybrook Cabernet Sauvignon. Wine is, of course, nothing but grape juice. How the juice of little grapes grown in Sonoma Valley in 2008 can be so lush with fragrances of raspberry, cherry, and spice is another of life's great wonders.

I am an unashamed foodie. I browse in William Sonoma and/or Sur la Table every time I go into the mall, subscribe to food magazines, and have at least eight open bottles of different vinegars in the cupboard. My spice cabinet overfloweth. Most days just after breakfast I'm considering what I'll be cooking for dinner.

Food more than almost anything else serves as a constant reminder of our embodiment. We are not "true selves" rattling around in bodies. Our bodies are part of the "true self" package deal. Our need to eat and the pleasures of eating never let us forget. We were created whole people.

Now I realize that as we age, our sense of taste and our appetites wane. In addition, we can't eat the quantities we once ate nor can we tolerate the kinds of spice or richness we once could. And medical conditions also dictate what we will or will not be able to enjoy.

Having said that, food is one of the great daily pleasures of life. It can cause us to affirm the goodness of our bodies, of the creation from which our food comes, and of the God who provides our "daily bread."Which makes saying grace to give thanks not so much a chore as a privilege.

N.B.: I've written more about food in the past. Here are the links if you're interested: Food Glorious Food and Food, Finitude, and Faith.

Feeling Lucky?

I'm back!

We had a wonderful vacation with my son, his wife, and Matthias, our one-year-old grandson. Maine and elsewhere in New England. Great weather, good food, and amazement at how quickly kids change at a year old. How does a one-year-old who can't even talk yet manage self-consciously to make jokes to amuse the grown-ups?

The Old Testament book of Proverbs (17:6a) says, "Grandchildren are the crown of the aged." And while I'd rather be aged some other day, I'll go with the crown part. Matthias is a wonder to behold with wonderful parents and (if I may be so bold) wonderful grandparents on both sides.

Today, the first day back, I was slumming for lunch at the local Taco Bell. Walking to a table, I kicked a penny that was on the floor, but since my hands were full, I left it there. A minute or so later, a little boy who was probably about six came over to my table with the penny. "Did you lose a penny?" he asked as his mom looked on from another table. "No," I said, "I didn't."

He went back to his table and his mom said, "I guess you can keep it." He raised it on high in triumph. "You know," I told him, "my mom always told me that if you find a penny, you're sure to have a great day."

Actually what she said was that if you find a penny, you'll have good luck. She even had a couplet (even if it didn't rhyme) expressing this profound idea: "Find a penny, pick it up/And all the day you'll have good luck." She and my grandmother placed a penny in any wallet and purse given as a gift. I suppose so that the receiver would "find a penny and pick it up."

Smooth white stones also were said to convey good fortune and, in our family, were known as "Lucky Stones." This convention, however, stopped when my dad bought several tons of "Lucky Stones" to pave our driveway. It was, apparently a supply and demand thing.

At this point, I don't believe in luck at all. I believe in providence. Life is not a random roll of the dice. It has meaning, purpose, and direction--a telos or final cause. Matthias is not a "lucky kid." He is a blessed kid and we are blessed grandparents just to know him.

Back from vacation and in the same routine again, it's easy to look around and believe you're somehow lucky or unlucky depending on how you feel about the same routine. But we're not lucky or unlucky; we're blessed. And the sooner we see it, the happier we'll be.