Give & Take

I bought my wife a pair of diamond earrings for valentine’s day this year. I think this may be the first time I’ve ever given a gift with a truly free heart, and not from either a sense of obligation or from some hidden expectation of gain. Sad that I wasted so many years thinking mostly of myself on occasions that call for attending to others; fortunate that I’ve at least begun to see how limiting such blind selfishness can be.

Look. I’m not claiming to be sitting under the Bo Tree, radiating light. I realize that most people clue in to this during basic socialization—in, say, grade school. But better late than never.

There are lots of self-serving ways to give gifts, take it from me. One classic is the narcissist’s gift: he gives an item that is not what the recipient desires, but is in fact what the giver himself would like to receive. This never fails to create warm, loving feelings in a relationship. Usually the narcissistic giver is unaware of his own motivation, and may be genuinely confused and offended when the recipient fails to react with the expected enthusiasm. The interchange might go something like this:

Giver: Look honey, I got you an Xbox for your birthday!
Recipient: (dejected) Great. It’s just what you wanted.
Giver: (angrily) Is nothing I do for you ever good enough?

Another favorite in my family is the gift of the comfy shackles. The comfy shackles are more insidious and potentially damaging than the narcissistic gift, but the two are similar in that the giver is once again unaware that his motivations are less-than-pure. Comfy shackles appear on the surface to be a generous and helpful gift, but are motivated—at least in part—by a desire to control the recipient and to cripple her independence. The unconscious goal of the giver of the comfy shackles is to keep the recipient close by and dependent. The comfy shackles work something like this:

Giver: Look here daughter, I’ve bought you this wonderful house just down the street from your mother and me. I know you’ve been having a hard time making a career decision, so I’ve decided to offer you a job in the family business, too!
Recipient: Oh, thank you. What would I do without wonderful, supportive parents like you?
Giver: You’ll always have our unconditional love and support, just as long as you never move more than three blocks away.

Writing this post, I’m reminded of the idea I was playing around with in LMAO—Finally!, namely the idea that one can be certain of the wholesomeness of one’s motives, and can be dead wrong. I used to mistakenly think that those who manipulate, disrespect, and behave badly toward others usually do so in full awareness that what they are up to is not very nice. I’ve come to see that most manipulators experience their own motives as benign—helpful even—and are genuinely unaware of the violence that they do to their partners, families, and friends.

The Benefits of a Limited Readership

My wife and I are slacker wussies, and we hate Rebecca.

(If you have no idea what I'm talking about, and therefore do not find it funny, try listening to the singing Dutch kid instead.)

Whiskey & The Devil

It's harder than you'd think to write a blog entry while your wife is listening to Thistle & Shamrock. What the fuck is the deal with Irish music? I don't get it. It all sounds the same, and it just goes on for fucking ever. I've concluded from listening to its music, that Ireland is a nation of rapid cycling manic-depressives. They're either bleating out slow, miserable dirges of lost love or fiddling maniacally like over-stimulated leprechauns sauced up on speed. And god forbid there should be lyrics. There are three basic themes addressed:

1. I was in love, but I fucked it all up with my fiddling, drinking and fighting.
2. The winter in Ireland is long, dark, miserable, and rainy, but we get through with fiddling, drinking, and fighting.
3. Either (1) or (2) above, sung in Gaelic.

I'm going out to the kitchen where I can escape from these dangerously intense feelings of vitality and deep emotions.

Land Grab

Okay, since the actual story in USA Today online is kinda long, allow me to summarize it for you.
There are little towns in Kansas, Nebraska, and the Dakotas that are so desperate for newcomers that the townships are giving away free land to anyone who wants to move there and build a house. No, this is not the 1840's, and we're not talking about homesteading on the hostile frontier. Free land in a small town in the heartland of America.

If you're from California, like me, you probably find this a little hard to believe. How is it possible that an empty lot the size of a postage stamp can fetch a quarter million or more where we live, but that the good folks of Cornstalk, Kansas are willing to give it away for nothing? Is California really that much better a place to live? If building costs are somewhere around $40 per square foot, that means that in Kansas I could build myself a brand-new, 4000-sq. ft. home for under two hundred grand. In my neck of the woods such a place would cost closer to $750,000, and in some parts of California the figure would be well over a million bucks.

So why don't I stop my bitching and start packing?

As a Californian, places like Kansas, though technically I do know that they exist, don't quite seem real. Sure, I've seen Field of Dreams. I do know what corn looks like. But I can't realistically imagine myself living in such a place. It would be easier for me to imagine living in Paris, or Berlin, or Rome than in the rural parts of the U.S. interior.

I guess I'm not the only person who feels that way, judging by the swelling population of all the metropolitan areas of the West Coast and the shrinking stats of the heartland states. It does strike me as odd that folks out here in California are lining up to pay such outrageous prices for housing when such inexpensive alternatives are available. Sure there are more jobs. Yes, wages are higher. The weather is better. There's more to do. But still...free land? C'mon people, what are we waiting for?