Wrong You Are: There Is Always Try

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

---Yoda

 

Ok, who am I to argue with a tiny Star Wars puppet that is beloved by so many, but…sorry my little green friend, you are so wrong. Because we are on this frustrating pandemic times calendar shift, it’s finally graduation season. Well, at least it is at my house. If I might just brag for a quick second, since December, my daughter has held a co-op job at a medical practice, passed the state boards for cosmetology, passed the state written and practical exam to be an EMT, and passed the national EMT license exam. She also navigated losing her last season of track, kept up with her duties as a class officer, and arranged college classes for the fall. I mostly stood by watching, and occasionally writing a check. The rest was all her.

 

Sure, that is a lot of doing. However, if you think there was no trying behind that, you’d be wrong. Like all of us, she tried, tried, and tried again. Also, like all of us, some of what she tried didn’t work out so well. And so it goes. We were chatting about everything that’s coming up for her in the next few months, and there will be a ton of choices she has to make. It’s daunting when you think of it.

 Last week I talked about decisions, and the times we have to choose between multiple options, even when none of them are ideal. There’s a big decision coming in November, and it’s going to be wicked hard for me to look at all the facts, search my soul, and try to pick the right one. So far, I think carrot cake will be the winner. Come November 6th, my birthday cake will be carrot cake, with cream cheese frosting. Decision 2020, made.

Kidding aside, I know that the Yoda quote is supposed to be inspiring, but honestly, it’s not for me. It's like this. I’m a big fan of space exploration. The research, the cutting-edge technology, the going where no man has gone before and all the rest is exciting, and, in my opinion, crucial to our survival. The Star Wars movies get that. Sure, it's fiction, but they show us that there’s so much out there. Truly, we should be looking skyward every day and finding new ways to get to, “infinity and beyond.” Space exploration starts with someone, somewhere, saying, “What if we tried this?” If you look back at the very beginnings of NASA, there were a lot of attempts that, well, flopped. Did we stop trying? Nope.

 

As we look toward schools reopening, the economy righting itself, and a political landscape that seems fraught with peril around every corner, it’s important to remember how to try. We need to think of new ideas, even ones that sound a little off the wall. Before this year, who would have thought of a drive-by commencement? Who could have conceived of a virtual baby shower, via a Zoom video call? An event I always love to attend is Harrington Reads, at Harrington Elementary in Lynn. I get to meet young readers, authors, and educators and share what they love about literacy. This year, it went virtual. All videos, posted on YouTube. It was that or cancel it altogether. Someone was smart enough to ask, “What if we tried to…” and then made it happen. That is try. It leads to doing, but first, there is try.

 

So far no one has asked for my advice on any of the conundrums we are facing, but, for the record, here it is: There must always be a way to try. No doing can happen before we dare to try. If you’re job hunting, try looking in a field you might not have considered. If you’re facing a decision on whether or not to send your kid back to school? Try it, see what happens. If it’s not the right move, move on to another option. My father was always spewing forth what he thought were incredibly wise words. Some were, and others, not so much. One of my favorite pieces of advice from him was this: “Brenda, the only part of your life that will be carved in stone are the dates on your headstone. Everything else is up for grabs. Try it all. If one path doesn’t work, go another way. You’ll get there.”  He was so right. Let’s keep trying.

 

 

Let Them Eat Cake!

"Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be."

---Robert Browning

It's birthday season, at least in my world. If you do the math, a lot of friends and family of mine had parents who knew how to make the most of cold January nights and Valentine’s Day. From the end of September to mid-November I am continually sending a card, wishing someone a happy birthday or having cake.

I think I counted about a dozen or so birthdays in a six-week period and there are likely some I have forgotten. There is way too much cake happening right at my other favorite time of year, pumpkin whoopee pie season. Actually, pumpkin whoopie pies might be just at my house as well, since a good friend makes them. No, I won't tell you who; they're mine, all mine!

While most holidays other than Christmas or Thanksgiving are not that big a deal for me, I love me some birthdays. It's one day that is just yours. Well, unless you're a twin or triplet etc. You might have to share your day then, but there's at least one moment in every birthday that is exclusively yours. It's my belief that birthdays should be sacred. They should be about the person who's just completed another year. In our house, the birthday person gets to pick what's for dinner. No matter what, they get to decide and no one else's preferences matter. If the choice is pizza, the birthday honoree picks the place and the toppings, and everyone else can go hungry. Or eat cake. Not a bad deal, really.

There is a reason they put names on birthday cakes. It's to single out someone who, even just for five minutes, gets to be a rock star with a room full of adoring fans. In the UK they sing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" because I guess women don't have birthdays over there? And that song doesn't even mention a name; they could be talking about any fellow. The song "Happy Birthday To You," however, is customizable, even if your name is Vladimir or Millicent. It's also free to sing now, as a U.S. Federal court held that the song is officially out of the corporate clutches of Warner Brothers and safely in the public domain. 

I wonder if the date of that decision will become the birthday of the birthday song?  Many people don't like the attention focused on them, especially if it's sung by the underwhelmed wait staff at a restaurant, all of whom probably have to sing it to strangers several times a day, and yet, it's still something that brings out the little kid in all of us. Don't tell me you never say, "cha cha cha" between verses, or add lyrics, we've all done it.

Now that so much happens in the world of social media, birthdays have even become a way to pursue a charitable goal. You can now donate your birthday to the cause of your choice. Essentially, these posts say, "Please give to XYZ organization in honor of my birthday."  Facebook is filled with these posts, and while I'm all in for close friends and family, I find that I laugh a little at some of them. Someone who is the daughter of a neighbor of my friend's aunt Edna, who I met at a cookout once, for five minutes, wants donations to save the spotted owls of Oregon? Um, well, that's very sweet of her, but it's not like everyone on Facebook was going to get her a gift. This is the time of year when my feed gets winnowed out a little, because if I don't know someone well enough to celebrate their day by saving the symbol of Hooter's, where hardworking staff probably have to sing Happy Birthday to multiple drooling men every day, then why am I sharing pictures of my kids with them?

Birthdays should still matter, however, especially to those close to us. I'm going to a party for a family member this week, that isn't a party. Nope, the birthday boy doesn't like parties, so it's dinner, with friends and family, precisely fifty odd years (to the day) he was born. That is NOT a birthday, you hear me? There better be cake because I'm all out of whoopie pies. Also, on a personal note, Happy Birthday, Devin Mary Kim. However did you get to be so grown up and beautiful? Also, FYI to whomever might want to know, November 6th isn't just Election Day…hint hint.