Category / observations

"Happiness is not a function of what we have…"

While reading an article in the Saturday Evening Post written by Russell Wild, I came across the following:

“Happiness is not a function of what we have, but rather a function of what we appreciate. Studies show that people who regularly express and experience genuine gratitude for what they have – family, a meal, work, health – are happier, healthier, and more successful in the long run,” says Dr. Ben-Shahar. He suggests that you might want to keep a journal in which you take daily written notes of all that you are most grateful for.

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m likely related to the author somewhere on my Mom’s side of the family, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s right on target including this quote from Ben-Shahar.

Have you taken time today to express your own genuine gratitude for the blessings in your life?

60 Minutes makes you impotent

I haven’t watched 60 Minutes regularly since I lived at home with my parents, but I do listen to the podcast versions while doing other things, like cleaning the gutters, blowing leaves around with my kick-ass leaf blower, or riding my bike. So I don’t really know which companies are advertising during the broadcast, but I can tell you who should be: Pfizer and Lilly. In fact, I’m surprised that some sort of erectile disfunction (ED) aid isn’t stuffing all the commercial breaks.

Understanding why is simple. Watch any broadcast and you’ll find yourself:

  1. seriously, absolutely perturbed and
  2. completely unable to do anything about it

As you can imagine, this combination has a horrid affect on men. Enter the key to sanity: Viagra and/or Cialis.

Consider the story about credit default swaps and the industry insiders who were sending emails that read, “Let’s just hope we’re rich and retired by the time this house of cards collapses.” They sent those emails three years ago. (And there’s nothing you can do about it.)

Or the story about the titans of Wall Street making $600 million a year (a figure I wish I had made up) while hiring physicists to create investment vehicles out of bad loans that could be repackaged and sold with AAA ratings. (And there’s nothing you can do about it.)

Or the story of the Delta Force that had Bin Laden trapped in the mountains (in 2004) and couldn’t go after him because someone higher up the chain of command kept denying them approval. (And there’s nothing you can do about it.)

If stories like these don’t do it to you, there’s always Andy Rooney. Yikes!

I read the other day that GM, through its employee health insurance program, is the largest single buyer of Viagra in the world. They spend something like $18 million a year on Viagra alone. I wondered if auto industry workers were just more depressed than the rest of us, but now I think they were just watching 60 Minutes.

So I got two boxes of Scabs in the mail…

Which, though gross, wasn’t all that surprising since I ordered them. Scabs are bandages designed to reflect all the grossness of being a kid (and, I guess, a Dad.) It also wasn’t surprising that I had two opportunities to use them this weekend since my kids seem inherently clumsy. I decided to conduct a little (un)scientific anecdotal study to see which design would be more in demand.

Scabs come in five designs: a zipper, stitches, eyeballs, worms, and spiders. Both times, the bandagee– (bandagie?)– ah, heck, kid with the cut, chose the spiders. These were both girls.

Grace went so far as to say, “I don’t want the zipper, Dad.” Really? I dig the zipper. I can’t figure out these kids…

Want to have some fun? Pick up some scabs of your own.

"I'm Robert Bianco, and I have a man-crush on Barack Obama."

Let’s be perfectly clear: you can vote for whomever you feel is the best candidate. In fact, please do. The more of us that are informed and involved in the process, the better off we’ll all be. (I think.)

(I hope.)

This morning I noticed a USA Today headline about Obama’s 30-minute infomercial that called it a “triumph.” I thought to myself, “when was the last time an advertisement for anything was called a triumph?” Interest piqued, I read the article.

Written by Robert Bianco, it should have contained the disclaimer that is the title of this post. Again, Bianco can vote for anyone he chooses, but we should at least know where he stands before he tosses out platitudes like “low-key triumph… perfectly tuned for the cool side of the medium” or “some parts, perhaps, were hokey [but] they are well-used here.”

Perhaps the biggest clue was his use of the following: “The show was designed to prove that Obama understands us.” “Prove,” not show or maybe demonstrate. “Us,” not working Americans or retirees or undecided voters or whatever.

“Me,” Bianco seems to be saying, “Obama understands me, and for that I am gushing.”

The fact is that words matter, and the words we choose to communicate affect the overall message. It’s my opinion that Bianco, a professional columnist, could have either chosen his better or offered some sort of disclosure about the context of his point of view. But I could be overreacting. You can read it yourself and let me know if you think I’m wrong.

Like being a kid again


There’s something about birthday parties that make everyone feel like a kid again. Especially kids’ birthday parties. Lily celebrated her eighth this weekend with fourteen of her closest friends and a few party crashers (her brother, her sisters, Grandma, and a few who stopped by when they caught a glimpse of the movie – you know who you are.)

We celebrated by making pillowcases, eating pizza and ice cream cake, a few rousing renditions of “What time is it, Old Witch?” and an outdoor viewing of “Nim’s Island,” projected onto the screen affixed to the side of the garage with stadium seating arranged in the yard. Not to mention a large collection of blankets and pillows strewn about.

Ah, to be a kid again, even if only for a night.