December, 2008
Dear Family & Friends,
I hope 2008 has treated
you well.
We should have two
graduations this spring, Krystin from the University and Elliott from South
High. And after that, more school for
both of them, Krystin probably to graduate school and Elliott presumably to
college. Where either will go is unclear
at this point, but they'll end up somewhere.
Unlike most years, I
didn't work on this letter off and on over the last several months. (So I can't go on endlessly and you don't
have to read endlessly J) And to tell the truth, the year in this part
of the human world was relatively uneventful, almost to the point of being
dull. No trips, no exotic adventures. Elliott and I painted the trim on the
house—how's that for excitement?
One high point was
that Elliott's 18th birthday was November 3—so he got to vote on November 4,
which he did with great enthusiasm. He
also went to a week-long video-game design camp last summer and was asked to
apply for a job with the outfit for next summer. (The potential problem is that he wants to DO
video-game design, not teach younger kids how to do them.) He is looking for a college program in
(video-game) design, which apart from technical colleges is not so easy to
find. But that's his passion, and
combined with his drawing and writing abilities, he might even make a go of it. (There must be hundreds of thousands of
guys—and I suspect it is largely "guys"—between ages 15 and 25 who
want to go into the video-game business.
I can only hope he's talented enough to be successful in that
competition.) I like to travel to Europe
and surrounds; the Mecca for the video-game crowd is Tokyo because Nintendo and
Sony have made some of the best games in the business. One of his best buddies went to Tokyo and
Elliott wants to follow suit—enough of the battlefields and cathedrals and
castles and museums that we've dragged him to.
If he'd put into his high school course work half the effort he puts
into video games, he'd have been valedictorian.
Krystin's been making
progress on her baccalaureate degree, obviously, and has surprised herself by
turning into quite a good student. I
don't think she thought she had it in her, but I knew she did. Krystin makes no pretense to be or to become
an intellectual, but she’s certainly smart enough to do very well as a student.
At least ordinarily, in my experience,
lackadaisical or uninterested college students do not decide to go to graduate
school in history.
Unfortunately, she's
not making the same progress in dealing with her diabetes. In large part at the instigation of MY
therapist (who's seen Krystin a few times as well), I organized a meeting with
her endocrinologist, psychiatrist, and my therapist, and she's now got to get
back into the rhythm of taking care of herself—something she's largely not done
the last year or so. It's hard for me as
a parent to do too much—she is an adult—but she's so challenged by the need to come
to grips with what she needs to do (in order to avoid premature physical
disability and death) that she needs help. So I'm trying to help. The alternative is to toss her out of the
house and tell her that if she's going to stay on a downhill spiral, I don't
have to watch it happen, but that doesn't seem like quite the right thing to
do. So she may end up back in a
treatment program of some kind, although not likely in-patient. Sigh.
If letters such as these
are to have any meaning, in my opinion, they should at least flirt with honesty
in personal matters even if the truth is not particularly cheery. Suiting the word to the belief, although
without wishing to throw a wet blanket on anyone's holidays (not that any
letter from me could have that effect), I have to say that I haven't much felt
like writing anything at all. I don't
find myself a very happy camper at this point in my life. I won't belabor the point, but I have found I
have little interest in most of life's activities, the kids excepted, but I am
such a creature of habit that I can go through all the motions and no one knows
the difference. I continue to see my
therapist a couple of times per month and that helps. I suppose life cycles up and down and I find
myself in one of the troughs at the moment.
The outcome of the
election was pleasant for many of us (but, I recognize, not all of those who
receive this note). I will admit,
however, that even though I am a political junkie of the first (or maybe
second) order, I was ready for it to be done by about the first part of
October. We (that is, the kids and I)
watched the election returns with friends, and when Obama walked out in front
of the crowd of supporters in Grant Park, we were all petrified that some wacko
was going to shoot him. I read a couple
of days later that the entire walkway he and his family were on was surrounded
by 15-foot bullet-proof glass panels.
There clearly have been advances in the technology of non-reflective
glass, because there was no way to tell on the TV that the glass was there (and
it must have seemed a little strange for the Obama family to be walking inside
a corridor with glass walls). Elliott's
comment, while we were watching, was "OK, the election's over, now put him
away for the next four years so he doesn't get shot." Too bad the incoming president has such a
mess to contend with.
In late September I
sprained my ankle. It was stupid; my leg
fell asleep while I was working at my computer, and as I stood up I realized my
leg wasn't going to hold my weight—but the messages didn't get from cranium to
muscles fast enough, I stepped forward and put my full weight on my leg, and
went down like a rock. My ankle went at
a direction it isn't supposed to go in relationship to the rest of my leg. The orthopedic doc later told me that it was
about the worst sprain anyone could have short of breaking or fracturing a
bone. So I hobbled around on crutches
for a couple of weeks and then decided that was enough of that—my ankle felt
better with weight on it and doing anything with crutches takes forever. (My biggest worry during the whole period was
trying to stand on one leg while taking a shower—do you have any idea how at
risk of slipping and falling one feels standing in a shower on one foot?) Since I had never broken, sprained, or
fractured anything in my life, this was a rude shock. The upshot was that the doc said I'd feel the
pain "until well after Christmas."
I can attest that thus far he has been proven correct. (And spraining my ankle, with the subsequent
aches and irritations, didn't do much for my mood, either; all I would have
needed was for the dog to have died as well, but fortunately I don't have a
dog. Two cats, but they're doing
perfectly well.)
That's enough to give
you an idea of the year. I wish I could
say that I am sure 2009 will be better for everyone, but given the state of the
economy, I have my doubts. So I guess we
march forward in the hope that things personal, national, and international
will improve and in the meantime carry on as best we are able. Fortunately, those who receive this missive
are surrounded by good friends and family, which is better than anything else
one could ask for.
My best.
Gary
P.S. I have discovered that I
am naïve. I would not have believed that
in this day it is possible for someone to rise to the level of governor (of
Illinois) and be so blatantly (and stupidly) venal.
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