Alan Fox

During the past several years Daveen and I have continually had one or another of our adult daughters living with us (which has truly been a pleasure). But today we are living only with each other. Huzzah!

As they say, the silence is deafening. And I mean that in a good way.

In the evenings we often lie next to each other, relaxing in bed, either reading or responding to emails on our cell phones. While Daveen completes her Wordle of the day, I brush up on my Solitaire skills (which has filled many hours in my life), before we get back to cuddling.

I remember the first moment when I was impressed by the explosion of cell phone ownership and its ubiquitous place in our lives. That was an evening more than thirty years ago. We were enjoying dinner with another couple. I noticed that every one of us had placed our cell phones on the table where we could see them. This was not for show. It was in case we received a call.

I know this will further date me, but I remember my own first “cell phone”. It was as heavy as a five-hundred-page book, and I needed a briefcase to carry it around. Now it easily fits in my pocket and I can actually talk to someone – thanks, Dick Tracy – on my watch.

Years ago, I heard a story that has stayed with me (although it might be an urban legend). In the late 1800’s when the head of the United States Patent Office resigned, he purportedly said “everything that can be invented has been invented.” Little did he know. I sometimes wonder what Leonardo de Vinci would think if he were here and was able to fly on an airplane or a helicopter or talk to a friend on the other side of the world.

I wonder what new inventions will come along in the next twenty years. I don’t think everything has been invented yet.

Okay, Simon and Garfunkel. Keep singing.

Alan

Last weekend our daughter and three-year-old granddaughter, both of whom had been living with us for the past year and a half, moved into a place of their own.

It’s so quiet around our house now.

I virtually never miss people, and I’m not particularly a dog person, but when they moved out, they took with them Oscar, their eleven-year-old dog.

I’ve never told this to a soul, but I used to have imaginary conversations with Oscar, largely around that fact that there we were two older guys just enjoying our final days together.  I like to believe he understood.  Isn’t that what life is about – connection?  Our connection to the world, to each other, to our homes, and our pets.

Last year one of my sons said to me, “You know, Dad, if we continue to see each other once a month over the next 15 years that will be about 200 visits for the rest of our lives.”

Whoa!  But ultimately, those are the limitations we all face.

This is the best reason to make the most of each and every day, because the number of days we each have is finite.

After all, if we’re lucky enough to live for 100 years, we still only have 36,500 days to spend together, to love and be loved – and to make the most of our time.

Good bye Oscar. I’ll miss our chats.

Alan

When I was a high school senior, I was the captain of the debate squad.  One afternoon, a fellow student showed up in the speech teacher’s classroom. She wanted to compete in a speech tournament, so I took her under my wing. I helped her prepare for the Oratorical Interpretation event at a novice tournament.  As I recall, she did quite well.

Was I motivated to help her because she was attractive? Most likely. We began dating soon after. How could I resist?  Making out with her in the evening was a lot more fun than studying.

Eventually I invited her to a family dinner at my home. Most families have their own unique customs and behaviors: things they do and say that might seem strange to an outsider but feel perfectly normal to members of the family. If I was to sit down with you at one of your family dinners, I suspect you would provide paper (or linen) napkins. So, you might be surprised to learn that when I was growing up – I knew nothing about napkins. At my family dinners we used a single dish towel that was passed around the table. We were family. That’s what we did, we wiped our lips on a communal towel.

You will not be surprised to learn that she was surprised (I might even say “disgusted”, though I never asked her).  But I’m pleased to tell you that she passed that trial by dish towel without flinching. I can also share that there had been other women who saw that dishtowel being passed around and ran for the hills.

The happy ending?  And it was — when we graduated from high school we were married, and though we are no longer together, we have three lovely adult children. Sometimes, you just have to look past the quirky habit to see the charm that lies beneath.

At our wedding we used linen napkins. And our children did not grow up sharing a dishtowel.

Alan