“Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that.” – Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
Munchausen by Canis Proxy
Here’s an easy recipe for becoming a hypochondriac: start as a physician’s child, to absorb medical knowledge by osmosis. Get an undergraduate degree in something like neuroscience, so you have just enough academic health knowledge to be dangerous. Factor in general neuroticism and a vivid imagination. And then, through years working in tech, get extremely good at Googling up obscure yet painfully fatal diseases that all begin with innocuous flu-like symptoms. (A few weeks after I’ve helped clean out a dusty storage closet, I’m certain that a mild headache is an early symptom of Hantavirus.)
But if I’m good, Jess is even better. Because not only is she able to convince herself, she can often convince me, too. A few years back, for example, while I was out in Los Angeles for work, Jess decided that her stiff neck was actually the onset of meningococcal meningitis. I spent much of the afternoon responding to her worried calls and texts from New York, to say that, no, I was pretty sure she didn’t have meningitis. But I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling above my hotel bed, trying to think of how I would explain to family and friends that I had poopooed Jess’ concerns the very day before she died in her sleep.
(Spoiler: Jess is still very much alive. Though she did discover that spending hours on a couch with your laptop, head propped up sharply on a stack of pillows, is a pretty reliable route to a sore neck.)
Impressive, I know. But if you think that’s good, you should see what we can do with our powers combined, and focused on a six-pound puppy.
Of course, Gem has actually been totally healthy. But that doesn’t stop us, at least a few times a week, from Googling up crazy strings like “puppy choking sounds sleeping”. If he walks by his water bowl one time too many without drinking, we’re just a couple of clicks away from diagnosis: OH NO HE’S GOT PARVOVIRUS AND HOLY CRAP MORTALITY RATE FROM THAT AS A PUPPY IS LIKE 90%!! Gemelli, we barely even knew you!
As a result, we’ve basically been helicopter-parenting this poor dog: putting his favorite fleece blanket on him when we find him asleep on the floor; cutting his high-end food into smaller, bite-sized pieces. All the ridiculous and overbearing behaviors I’ve long mocked in New York dog owners.
I’ve been joking for a while that Gem is a pretty good pre-child warmup lap. Perhaps that’s true. But if nothing else, he’s a good chance for us to tone down our overprotective mania. Because if we don’t, I fear our future children will be in for the life of therapy bills inevitably caused by having to wear helmets and water-wings whenever they leave the house.
Gone to the Dogs
Though I’ve subscribed to the Paleo Diet in theory for nearly a decade, in practice, my adherence during that time has been 80/20 at best. At the end of the day, while I’m sure that pasta is slowly killing me, I’m even more sure it’s absolutely delicious.
Gemelli, however, is a Paleo zealot. We’ve tried to give him dog biscuits, gourmet canine cookies, and any of the other treats he’s supposed to like, all of which he barely chews before spitting out. Instead, his favorite snack at the moment is freeze-dried beef liver, followed closely by salmon jerky. Last week, as I was making stuffing for Thanksgiving, he snuck off with several just-washed carrots and celery stalks, which he gleefully devoured while hiding under a side table, as if both were so delicious they had to be forbidden.
Similarly, Gem won’t eat any grain-based kibble, so we’ve instead been feeding him Orijen and Stella & Chewy, two essentially Paleo dog foods. Reading through the ingredient lists on both, I realized he eats better than we do: Orijen, for example, is comprised of wild salmon and trout, free-range poulty and eggs, grass-fed beef, bison and lamb, and organic vegetables.
And despite that, his food costs us mere dollars a day. I considered switching Jess and me to the stuff, until I realized that his calorie consumption was probably a bit less than ours, given his six pound bodyweight. Working backwards from our relative sizes, the cost savings stopped looking so good.
Which is probably just as well. I tried one of those Orijen kibbles, and was reminded by its taste that the only thing Mel loves better than Paleo foods is the smell of other dogs’ butts.
Two monks traveled together down a muddy road in heavy rain.
They came upon a beautiful girl in a silk kimono, unable to cross.
“Come,” said Tanzan to the girl. He lifted her up and carried her over the mud.
Eido said nothing. But by nightfall, he could no longer restrain himself. “We monks do not touch women,” he told Tanzan. “Especially not young, beautiful ones! It is dangerous. Why did you do that?”
“I left the girl on the side of the road,” said Tanzan. “Are you still carrying her?”
“The first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. The second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are.”
― Marcus Aurelius
We ♥ Bo
Jess and I headed to West Midtown this morning, where (due to the recency of our move) we’re still registered to vote. We brought along Gemelli, mostly because we didn’t know how long we’d have to wait in line to vote (answer: two and a half hours), but we were pretty sure it was longer than a two-month-old puppy could stay by himself at home.
Frankly, Mel wasn’t a big fan of the wait, but he was very happy to vote (and not just because he enjoyed chewing the corner of the ballot). I won’t disclose my own choices, though I will say that he voted for Barack. Or, really, for Bo. Turns out, he and the First Dog have roughly the same markings.
Re-Run: Whatever
By now, coming down the home stretch of an exceedingly long presidential campaign, I’m mainly just glad to be done with this whole thing, either way.
That’s not to say I don’t care about the outcome; I’m fervently hoping for (and cautiously optimistic about) an Obama win. But this year, like in most recent election cycles, I’m also more than a little fed up: fed up with an American public that can’t be bothered to give a shit, and fed up with a political system so mired in partisan gridlock that it can’t get much done regardless of who’s in charge.
So, while I’m still very much a big government left liberal, I’m also hoping entrepreneurially-minded individuals, companies, and not-for-profits step up to help make our world a better place. Otherwise, Obama or Romney, I fear we’re way up the proverbial shit creek.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, so I’m re-posting this piece from eight years back, which still well encapsulates how I’m feeling tonight.
Four years ago, when America didn’t get the President it voted for, I was angry with the system. Now, on the verge of America getting exactly the President it’s voting for, I’m angry with Americans.
And only in part because more of them voted for Bush, despite the counter-endorsement of literally every single intelligent individual and organization (the neo-con Economist!?!) in the country and across the globe. But also because, even in an election that was a Really Big Deal, an election that most people conceded would be the Most Important in a Very Long Time, an election that featured the best funded, most heavily manned get-out-the-vote campaign on both sides, most Americans apparently couldn’t be bothered to give a shit.
Observe the rough numbers:
- KERRY: 56 million
- BUSH: 60 million
- WHATEVER: 120 million
WHATEVER wins again!
Next time through, it’s likely Whatever will only broaden it’s lead; as I said in my last post, this may be my generation’s last gasp in the game of Big Politics, before they all transfer to the Whatever column for good.
Scary as that sounds, after a few days of thought, I’m less worried about it than I was before. Because, to be honest, I’m not so sure that Big Politics works. In an environment that’s so deeply divided along partisan lines, one where the majority apparently don’t care even vaguely about what’s happening, and where the majority of the rest are willing to vote for an administration that proudly flaunts unwavering stupidity as its prime virtue, I have trouble believing that the major change we need in the world will be pumped out of Washington any time soon.
Which doesn’t, for a minute, mean I don’t think it can’t begin elsewhere. If I’ve learned anything from running companies and spending time with countless entrepreneurs, it’s that a small, passionate group of people who understand the power of outside-the-box-thinking, the leverage of technology, and the thrust of the market can get amazingly disproportionate things done.
There’s strong precedent for it already in the political world. Solve homelessness? Common Ground will do it long before HUD. Quell soaring prescription prices without preventing drug company innovation? New PBM’s have a vastly better chance than any current FDA proposal might.
So, as was the case until just a few short months back, I’ll be reclaiming this blog from the realm of politics, giving up the guilty pleasure of shaking my fist at the heavens and the red states, to get back to how I’ve operated before, and how I’d suggest you do as well: when you see a problem, search out innovative groups and individuals already doing something extraordinary about it – they’ll doubtless be thrilled to have your help.
And, of course, if you can’t find a group doing something smart already, then start tossing ideas around in your own brain, looking at the problem from different angles, asking questions – smart ones and stupid ones. Sooner or later, when you least expect it – bam – an idea, and a good one. Then, regardless of who’s sitting in the White House, regardless of how little the rest of America appears to care, start doing what it takes to make the idea a reality. By now, you’re the only hope we’ve got.
“We have seen a huge increase in female interest,” says Joshua Newman, CrossFit NYC co-owner and trainer. “In the beginning, we were 90% male, 10% female, but our new members seem to be about 50-50.” Newman says CrossFit NYC’s initial coaching staff was all male, but they’ve hired several female coaches over the past year.
Time Magazine, “Strong vs. Skinny”