There is an odd thing about aging, you don’t know whether to attribute current experiences to the age, attitude or mood.
I’ve been appreciating the little things more, and more.
But I’m not sure if that is because as I age I realize it is the small things in life that need to be savored, and appreciated, or if it is the damn era we are living through.
Where in this internet world in which we all live things are going so fast, and the economy is just kicking us all in the teeth so continuously, that if you don’t stop and acknowledge the little pleasure in life you’d lose your mind.
Perhaps it sounds ridiculous to extoll the virtues of small pleasures.
But I would like to combine two thoughts here in this column. The first being an appreciation for the small pleasures in life, and the second being some understanding of being content.
Over the course of my own lifetime the “richest” men I’ve ever met were those who were completely content. They didn’t measure their happiness by the size and cost of the material luxuries they’d been able to surround themselves with, they seemed to be at full and complete peace, a somewhat blissful experience, over being perfectly satisfied with their station in life, their standing, and what they had at their disposal.
Now it is true that some men aspire to great wealth, and others are satisfied more easily. Some take a different turn and tact away from the competition for material goods, and towards a more sedentary lifestyle. They “give up”, they choose not to compete, perhaps out of a lack of confidence, or self-awareness that they lack the necessary abilities to be as ruthless as necessary to stake their claim.
I’m not talking about that man. They’ve decided to settle for less out of self preservation, or some understanding of their own capabilities in this cruel and harsh world.
I’ve met men of extreme wealth that had the smaller home, the older car, the original kitchen table set. Perfectly content to be satisfied in life with the functional means to survive and considered themselves “thriving” in life. Others had newer, more modern, up-to-date, but they were content not to chase material items as some measure of their own personal happiness. They understood that the next purchase was not going to make them any happier, and materialistic pursuits were not the means toward happiness.
I’ll confess that I’ve always experienced a higher level of enjoyment over material comforts. Call me crass but I prefer to drive a Mercedes than a Chevrolet. I prefer to eat a nice New York Strip, or lobster tail than to eat a baloney sandwich.
I’d prefer ocean front to pool view.
Given the choice I’ll take the Four Seasons to the Motel 6. I make no excuses for such materialistic want, I was born this way. From the very beginning I somehow gravitated towards “better”.
The accumulation of money meant nothing to me except for the exchange of value.
I have no use for money as it is, to just pile up in a bank, if having less of it means adding luxuries today, then take the cash away. I’d rather have less and be standing on the balcony overlooking the ocean drinking coffee from fine china on vacation, then to be six hotel rooms back overlooking the expressway and traffic.
And to a reader you all feel the same. Except for some few of you, you’d rather stay twenty minutes from the beach at the Motel 6, save the cash in the bank, and drive to the beach. The security you feel over having cash in the bank is superior to the feeling of standing oceanfront. Unless of course someone else is paying, then you start asking if there is such a thing as an “oceanfront suite”.
I’ve always wanted the highest level of creature comforts that I could afford. Alright, based on lifestyle I’ve always wanted the higher level of creature comforts I could just barely not afford, but chased anyway despite the debt, the struggle, the cost, but isn’t that the American Way? Attempting to step up in class whether you could afford to or not? As I said, I prefer a fillet to a tuna fish sandwich, and it has nothing to do with cost. I don’t flaunt brand names, don’t own a fancy watch, or any watch at all. But I can tell the difference between Polo brand and Old Navy.
Frankly my entire life has been the struggle of the baloney sandwich.
If all you can afford is a baloney sandwich, on a menu full of higher priced items that you might also desire, let me tell you, that baloney sandwich tastes like shit.
But if can afford the entire menu, and that particular day what you really want is a baloney sandwich, man, it tastes better than fillet.
And that has been a life-long dilemma.
Attempting to get to the point where you can afford the entire menu so that in case what you want is the baloney sandwich, it won’t taste like shit.
Of late no matter what I order it all tastes great. The tacos at the Mexican joint dive bar are as satisfying as the sizzling Ruth’s Chris ribeye. An egg salad sandwich sitting at the kitchen table as enjoyable as sitting patio side at the Ritz Carlton having a meal.
I don’t know whether I’ve learned how to appreciate the little things in life, or have just become more content with what life is, and not what it could be.
It could be aging, it could be my own coping mechanism to survive in this current environment. I can’t explain it. But I’ll sit on a Sunday morning relishing the taste of a Bloody Mary, as if I am the single happiest person alive. The air smells sweeter, the surrounding environment more pleasing, the companionship of having the wife close more comforting, everything just makes me happier than a clam. And I cannot explain it.
I recently had the two son-in-laws out for a golf outing, and nice lunch afterwards. I found myself enjoying every last second of the day, even if it was the first time ever losing to one son-in-law. I was happier over him hitting the ball well than he was. I wanted to order them every menu item at lunch, so they could experience it all at once. A taste of the Osso Bucco ravioli, the seared Ahi Tuna, the bacon-wrapped shrimp. They were content with a burger and beer. I enjoyed the experience of being able to get out and play a round with two such nice additions to the family. And I even appreciated their contentment at a burger and beer, when they could have run my wallet a little harder but chose not to. I can’t wait until we can play together again.
Life seems to be like that of late. I’m enjoying everything to a ridiculous extent. Yesterday I visited Pennsylvania on a work trip, I even enjoyed going to that awful state. I saw beauty there, rolling farm hills, cows in the pasture, I failed to notice before.
I do hope this is not portending some end. God’s way of allowing me a last tour where I savor every last experience.
Inflation is kicking our collective ass. Politics is nothing but exasperating. At long last the predictions have come true, our country really is going to Hell in a hand basket.
And I am trying to go against the grain out here, in the middle of nowhere, a complete nobody. I’m trying to enjoy the little things in life. And the good news is that I am. Enjoying them. I feel as if we all start to have to, to get through this inflationary time period. To get through this politically charged environment.
I caught the movie “Arthur” on television the other night, flipping channels I saw the part where the main character, Arthur, breaks out in laughter apropos of nothing. And when asked what he is laughing about he says “I don’t know, sometimes I just think funny thoughts”. A fine movie with a fantastic performance by Dudley Moore.
And for some reason that sums up my life right now. I don’t know whether it is age or era, but right now it feels like I am “thinking funny thoughts” every damn minute of the day. Always on the verge of breaking out in laughter.
I guess you’d call that “contentment”. But I don’t know how I got here.
Or maybe it is a coping mechanism. From the world at large going insane.