Alan Fox

I know that all of us lost something, or someone, in the pandemic. In the great scheme of things, the loss I’m going to share might not seem significant, but all losses are relative to an individual and every loss is cumulative.

I’ve always loved to attend live theater. Daveen and I have season tickets to many Los Angeles theaters — the Ahmanson, the Mark Taper Forum, the Geffen, Noise Within, and others. Over the years we have often flown to New York or London primarily to see plays, and we love the annual Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August where, over the course of a week, we can see a dozen or more theatrical performances.

Ever since 2019 all of that was taken off the table by Covid-19. Until last week.

On Wednesday we flew to New York, and by Saturday evening we had attended four Broadway plays.

Thursday evening was “Our Town,” a play I first enjoyed when I was in high school. (That seems like a few centuries ago.). Although, the N.Y. Times review of the play was excellent,  I was disappointed. The lead actor is well known on television, but, to me, his artistry did not translate to his stage performance. Fortunately, we greatly enjoyed the three other plays .

Friday night Daveen and I held hands all the way through a new play, “Maybe Happy Ending,” about two robots falling in love. The leading couple recently graduated from the theater program at the University of Michigan, and they were outstanding. Bravo, U of Michigan!

The Saturday matinee of “The Great Gatsby,” a new musical, was filled with special effects and quite entertaining.

Last, and perhaps best, was the two-actor play, “The Roommate” that featured Mia Farrow and Patti LuPone. Both are well known actresses, and each is in their mid to late 70’s. Go, old folks!  (And it’s okay to smoke a little pot).

I’m happy to report that Times Square was as busy as ever.

Now I just hope that Covid-19 was not attending the theater with us. I had a slight tickle in my throat this morning. But, for better and for worse, I also have an active imagination.

Alan

I take personal pride when I’m able to find happiness in the moment, even when life doesn’t go the way I might otherwise have wanted. That is a pretty important psychological skill to have.

By way of example – let’s say I was out to lunch with two friends.  I wanted Chinese but my friends preferred an Italian restaurant.

So there I was, having lunch at an Italian cafe, and not at the Chinese place I’d hoped for. Basically, I have two options.

First, I can choose to dwell on my dissatisfaction. The reality of the moment is different than what I wanted. I can even complain (either to myself or out loud to everyone). I might expand my gripe session to my entire life and complain about all the things that aren’t the way I’d like them to be. But I think of this as “victim” mentality,” and many people I know go through their entire lives in that mode. We all know who they are. We also know how tiresome those kinds of people can be to spend time with.  They always complain.

The other option is for me to find happiness in the moment, the way things actually are. Maybe that is just a psychological slight-of-hand, but it’s effective. So, even though Italian was not my first choice, now that I’m seated at an Italian restaurant I can choose to enjoy it. I can even cite four or five reasons why Italian was the better choice.

The larger point of this blog is that none of us controls everything that happens in our lives.  That’s why, for example, we need to pay close attention every single moment that we are behind the steering wheel of a car.

Some of the best advice I’ve ever read (probably from Shakespeare, but what worth-while advice isn’t?) is this:  Expect the best, plan for the worst.  In other words, if you bring your raincoat you’ll be better prepared for rain. And if it rains, celebrate that it is raining.

One of my sons is a university professor who studies human behavior– notably judgment and decision making.  I hope I have stepped lightly into his territory.

Alan

When I was young, my father refused to purchase a TV set for our home.

“I would end up watching it all of the time,” he explained.  “And I have work to do.”

So – no TV.  The biggest problem for me was that I had periodic school assignments that involved an essay about a specific TV show, and I couldn’t watch any of them.  My recollection is that at first my teachers were skeptical.  After all, every family owned a TV set.  When they called my father, they realized that I was right.

Other than for class assignments, I didn’t notice the lack.  I’ve always liked to read, and I didn’t feel like I was missing anything.

Fast forward twenty years.  My dad had purchased a color TV shortly after the TV networks began to air national programs.  Of course, I wasn’t living at his home anymore, so it was no big deal for me.  (And yes, I had my own color TV set at my own home.)

Fast forward to when my dad was 80 (and he lived to be 104).  Sure enough, almost every time I visited his house Dad was firmly planted in front of the TV.  During his last twenty-five years he moved to live near me, and one day I realized that Dad lived in his recliner chair in his living room in front of the TV.  He sat in the chair 24/7, watching TV.

I don’t even know what he was watching, because whenever I visited he turned it off.

Today I mostly only watch news and sports programming on TV.  I believe that I can learn more, and more quickly, by reading.  Although I thoroughly enjoy PBS programs such as NOVA.

What is the moral to this short tale?

If you avoid something because you are concerned about becoming addicted to it, you are probably right.

Alan