Saturday, June 23, 2001
What are you doing for your mid-life crisis?
It didn't happen all at once...I'm sure most of us have had little hints of impending mid-life crisis. Like the shock we experienced the first time a great song on the radio ended with the DJ identifying the station as, "WXYZ...playing your favorite oldies." Or the time you were out driving late at night, and you suddenly got all misty eyed when a song on the radio transported you back to a high school date, the senior prom, or the care-free summers of '78 and '79.
Well, I'm turning 40 this year.
I have to admit, it's not as bad as I imagined it would be (and it's a hell-of-a-lot better than the alternative!) I've stopped worrying about where my hair went (or my feet, for that matter) and begun to actively embrace nostalgia. I've begun buying CDs of my favorite albums (since everything the kids listen to these days is crap) and occasionally I take down the yearbook. There is something about coming in from mowing the lawn, putting on an old Pink Floyd album, and looking at yearbook pictures of classmates who didn't make it to forty, to put things in perspective. I look out the window and see my wife weeding her flower garden...the kids laughing as they roll on the lawn with the dog...and I think, "I really should stop bitching about getting old". I look at the faces in the yearbook...blissfully unaware of the diseases / car crashes / overdoses / heart attacks, etc. rushing to meet them in life's relentless demolition derby.
I look at my own yearbook picture...all that promise (all that hair) and take stock of what I have to show for my life so far: A million bucks in the bank - Not yet; A Jag in the garage - Nope; A mansion on the beach in Westport - Not in this lifetime. Yet, here I sit, watching two wonderful children playing in the yard, and a beautiful, intelligent woman brushing the soil from her skirt.
As the wind blows through the last haunting chords of Pink Floyd's 'Wish You Were Here', I head back out into the sunshine. I stop thinking about all the advice I'd give those fresh young yearbook faces, and realize it wouldn't have helped a bit. Those who are gone, wouldn't have benefited from my life experience, and those who've somehow managed to survive the charnel house that was the '80's and '90's have (hopefully) learned the important lessons on their own.
Friday, June 22, 2001
Who wrote this sh#t, anyway?
[Also know as the very first post. So if you want to start crawling through the archives, this is the place to start]
Chances are, unless there is a link or reference to somewhere else, the perpetrator is your's truly - David Bogner.
I live in Israel with my wife Zahava, our three gifted (natch') kids, and our two black Lab mixes; Jordan & Lulu.
Some of what you'll find here deals with the 'specialness' and reality of everyday life here in Israel. Other stuff dances around the periphery of subjects like fatherhood, husbandry (hmmm...maybe that's the wrong word), commuting, home improvement, and pet ownership. Sadly, there is also some politics.
What's left are an assortment of links to web sites I frequent, and other bloggers that I follow. Keep in mind that while I enjoy visiting these places and reading these blogs - you might not. 'nuff said.
Feel like sharing?
Email Me. Really. I don't bite.
What does Treppenwitz Mean?
Literally, it is German for 'the wisdom of the stairs'. What it means is 'The striking reply that crosses one's mind belatedly when already leaving, on the stairs'. People are often angry because they did not have the fitting answer directly during a conversation. The term is old, but it was made popular by W. Lewis Hertslet who published his book in 1882 entitled 'Treppenwitz der Weltgeschichte'. In that book, he writes: "Like to a petitioner who is just leaving after an audience, a piquant, striking words occurs to history almost always delayed."
Source: Munich University: Sabine Engelke - Idioms - Neues vom Treppenwitz (in German)
Who owns this thing, anyway?
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Laying the groundwork for an insanity defense since 1961 ©