I like reading the NY Times obituaries. Most notable people tend to die in their 80s. Some get to live a bit longer; a New Yorker cartoonist, Al Ross just died at 100. An aside, I love New Yorker cartoons. I bought the complete anthology (a very heavy book) for my parents a few years ago. They leave it on their coffee table in the living room and I read it every time I go over there. I pretend to listen to what they say while I read the cartoons. One of my favorites is from the 1920s. The wife has just ransacked their apartment and beat up her husband and says, "I'm not angry dear, it's just that I'm terribly hurt." :)
The obituaries expose me to other parts of the world and humanity that the media normally never comments on - the lives of non-celebrities. What a treat! Cartoonist, poets, WWII flying aces, spies, screenwriters-they all led terribly interesting lives. It makes me think about my life, and other people's lives. The choices we make. I've been really perturbed recently by the immorality of some of my co-workers. I asked a dear friend for advice on how to deal with these people and she gave me nothin'. Turn a blind eye?
And then I think about all the good choices I've made in life and how, despite a serious personal calamity last year, really nothing in my life changed that much. I don't spend money on a whim for clothes anymore but that doesn't dampen my spirit in the slightest. I thank God we don't have a baby right now since this is absolutely the worst time since we've been married to have a child. So, infertility has come in very handy and you thought it was all bad? We were at Costco yesterday and you know how they have the product sample people in the store? One lady was talking to another about child care and having to work two jobs to pay for a babysitter and the other asked how many children she had. "Just two," she said casually. But I worried for her. Here I am with no child, no babysitting to worry about. No kid to worry about. My life just breezes on for the most part.
So, I work, I save, I stay as healthy as possible. There's got to be more to life. All these things we do, I do to fill up the time. What's it worth? I can calculate how much I save and what I'll need every year in retirement and I think about the quality of life's experiences versus paying for high dollar stuff. My mortgage is 1/3 of my sister's rent for a dingy apartment one block from the beach. Am I better off than she is? Do I feel guilty for feeling fine? Am I due for disaster? I guess I'm not coming to my normal blog post conclusion. I'm just thinking that's all.