Alan C. Fox

In my first blog of 2017 I’d like to suggest a simple way of connecting with those you love, as well as those you like.

As soon as both of you are awake in the morning, turn over in bed and say, “I love you.”   If no one is there, a text saying “I love you” will do.

If you aren’t currently in a love relationship, then “I like you,” “I really like you,” or “You’re special to me,” by text, telephone, or in person will be fine.

I’d like to share a few more thoughts on this:

1. Many guys seldom say, “I love you.” One friend of mine, Gail, told me that in twenty years of marriage her husband only said “I love you” four times.  I’m sure she was waiting for more.  Guys, you’re simply going to have to retrain, not restrain, yourselves.  I promise it won’t hurt you, and may help your relationship a lot.
2. Many people believe that the word “love” is the equivalent of “sex,” and is somehow awkward or embarrassing. Yet parents say “I love you” to their children all the time, and children, even adult children, say it right back to their parents or siblings.  There is nothing shameful or wrong in connecting with a human being you care for by saying, “I love you.”
3. Many of us unconsciously think of the word “love” as a trap. You only have to listen to a few love ballads before you realize that “I love you” can be code for “You owe me something,” or “I’m neurotic and I’m only saying that to hear the same thing back from you to reassure me.”  Keep the word “love” pure in your own mind and heart.  Love is a gift, not a piece of bait that conceals an invisible hook.
4. What if the object of your verbal affection rolls over in bed and sleepily mumbles, “Uh huh,” or doesn’t reply to your text? This is not a disaster. Please keep in mind that your purpose in saying “I love you” is simply to express your own feelings.  It should not designed to provoke a reciprocal reply.  Your words spring from the love you feel inside your own heart.
5. If you need reassurance then just ask for it. “Honey, I would really like to hear you say, ‘I love you,” in the morning.’”  And be sure to say “Thank you” when he or she does.

Human connection is what we live for.  The start of each waking day is the best time to connect.

Almost one year ago Sprite and I began living together.  On our very first morning she woke up before me and cooked breakfast.  Before I took a bite I started to cry.

“What’s the matter, Alan?”

It took me a few moments to compose myself.  “No one has cooked breakfast for me at home in more than thirty years.  I appreciate it.  Thank you.”

On that morning I don’t recall if either of us said the words “I love you”, but I’ll always remember the music of Sprite’s caring.

Saying or showing another human being “I love you” is a wonderful way to stay connected.

First thing each morning is an ideal time to begin.

Alan

It’s not a typo.  I typed imperfct that way, and even though spell check wants to “correct” my imperfct typing I’m going to leave it that way because no matter how hard I try I’m still imperfct and after seventy-six years of trying not to be I’m going to accept and be happy with myself just as I am and I don’t have to wait until December 31st to make that my single resolution for the New Year which starts on any day I want it to.

I hear my tenth grade English teacher mumbling, “Run on sentence, Alan.  Run on sentence.  Chop it down to bite size bits.”

Well, Mrs. Bischoff, in the more than half a century since we met I haven’t yet managed to chop my life into bite size bits.  I’ve always devoured life in great gulps and I’m not concerned any more about choking on a run-on sentence. Or sentence fragments.  I try to communicate in whatever way best helps me connect with each reader, and if one word will do the trick then I don’t need an entire sentence that some expert could diagram into oblivion.

We all know the usual result of a typical New Year’s resolution.  Failure.  Nothing changes.  I weigh more today than I did on this day last year.  I haven’t written more than a few hundred words on my half-finished novel about how I regularly disappear behind a wall of reticence (which I have disappeared behind again).  Another year of my life has vanished into the same yesterdays that have gobbled every other year of my life.  And that’s perfctly fine with me.

At the moment I’m with a new life partner on a cruise ship in the Caribbean.  I’m not in Carmel preparing to host the “family and friends” Christmas Eve party which has been a fixture in my life for more than thirty years.

Where will I be, how much will I weigh, and what will I be doing on Christmas Eve 2017?  I have absolutely no idea.

We all have dreams.  We always seem to want something more or something better, or, at least, something different than what we already have.  But why not be perfctly happy wherever you are being whoever you are?

Tonight I’m not going to wish for anything more, better, or different.  I’ll finish writing this blog, enjoy a massage in the ship’s spa, and share a light dinner of who knows what with Sprite. Later, while Santa is busy on his rounds, we’ll probably cuddle in our cabin and knock off a few more episodes of Downton Abbey. We’ll fall asleep together when we feel sleepy (as we did last night and the night before),

Tomorrow we’re at sea.  No port of call. No destination.  No dinner reservation.

Sounds like a plan.

Enjoy the day, relish your evening, and find pleasure in the people and places that come your way.

I hope you’ll join me in finding that each day of the New Year always begins today, and that every day is as perfct as they come.

Love,

Alan

I’m sitting at my desk in mid-December in a cold room.  The chill opens my mind to random, peculiar thoughts and memories.

In no particular order:

Until I was in my thirties, I would never leave the room when I was involved in a pleasant conversation.  I was afraid that if I left even for a minute the heart-to-heart would end and a precious connection lost.  Of course, after many such conversations I had to quickly rush to the bathroom.

I thought that no woman liked sex.  I may have been wrong about that.

In my twenties, my wife would sometimes rub the back of my neck while I was driving.  I loved this but thought that if I moved my head she would stop.  I wanted her to continue, so I kept my head fixed in one place, darting my eyes left or right as I drove without turning my head. I never thought to say, “I really like your rubbing my neck, but I’m afraid that if I move my head you’ll stop.”

I was a high school debater and I honestly thought I should have won every debate. In college I became more realistic. There was one debate that I deserved to lose.  My opponent was Lawrence Tribe, now a professor at Harvard Law School and probably the top Constitutional Law expert in the United States.

Come to think of it, I still think I should have won every debate in high school.

When I was sixteen and the proud owner of a new driving permit I borrowed my mother’s car, without permission, to drive to the beach with friends.  When we returned I parked the car on the street in front of our house, ten or twenty feet in front of where it was when I took it.  I thought no one would notice. My dad confiscated my driving permit for six months.

When I graduated from law school I thought that every judge would hear the facts, apply the law, and reach the same conclusion.  That was a whopper.

I believed the first woman who expressed an interest in me was the only one in the world who ever would.  My first wife and I dated for five years and were married for ten.  I lived for three years with the next woman who expressed an immediate interest in me.  I married the third.

I used to believe I could accomplish anything.  I still do, but only part of the time.

I believe I’m an alien.

I don’t think that’s a whopper.

I expect to be idyllically happy every minute of my life.  Maybe just not right now.

When we disagree who do you think I think is right?  You’re right.

I think I should turn on the heat, which is off for the night.

I won’t.

My favorite words when I was two were, “No I not.”  Now my favorite word is “yes,” but in back of that I sometimes still think, “No I not.”

If I speak English loudly enough every person in the world will understand me.

I used to think that if I hurt badly enough for long enough you would give me what I wanted.

I think my editor will suggest I not publish these strange and random thoughts.

Good night soon.

Good night room.

Good night cow jumping over the moon.

Alan