December 23

One of the nice things about being Jewish is that the Sunday before Christmas is no different than any other Sunday. There are no last-minute gifts to buy, no dishes to cook, no mental checklists of topics to avoid discussing, or new boyfriends or girlfriends to introduce, hoping your family will like them.

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December 22

Yesterday, I picked up one of my photographs from an art exhibit it had been displayed in. The problem with demanding a lot of yourself is how hard it is to feel good about something you have accomplished. I have no formal training in photography. I take pictures as a hobby; yet, on two occasions, my work has been recognized as good enough to be included in an exhibit made up primarily of professional photographers' work. I should be proud of that, but because no one has ever bought my work, I still feel like a failure. Because I have no one in my life to tell me they think my work is good, I question my ability. 

This year, I bought a new camera. I had plans on improving my work, but I got frustrated because I was not seeing the results I wanted. The more frustrated I became, the less motivation I had to go out and take pictures, so the less I did. I guess that is what (new) new year's resolutions are for.

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2018 Year in Books

2018 was a very good year in books. I read thirty, but two stood above all others. In fact, I liked them both so much, for the first time, I am picking co-books of the year. Emmy Favilla’s A World Without Whom and Kassia St. Clair’s The Secret Lives of Color do the two things books I enjoy do best - they inform and entertain. But more than that, both authors write with wit and élan, cheeky good humor and just the right amount of bawdiness (at least for me). Click on the links to read my full reviews.

My honorable mentions are several. Erin Carlson’s I’ll Have What She’s Having was not just an homage to the brilliant Nora Ephron, but a meditation on modern romance and how it is portrayed in movies. Marve Emre’s The Personality Brokers was a beautifully written and extensively researched history of the Myers-Briggs Personality Test and how it became ubiquitous in society while also lacking any scientific grounding. For immersive experiences, Miles Unger’s Picasso and the Painting that Shocked the World, read like the first part of a multi-part biography of the 20th century’s unquestioned grand master. While the book is ostensibly about the creation of the proto-cubist masterpiece Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, it is much more than that. It is the story of a prodigy who, before he turned thirty, had moved through three distinct phases (Blue Period, Rose Period, and Cubism) that have influenced modern art ever since. Finally, Rebecca Traistor’s Good and Mad is a rip-roaring polemic against the patriarchy and encourages women to stop apologizing for wanting to exercise their power. I am here for it. All of it.

Other good reads included Hope Never Dies, a fanfic imagination of Joe Biden in his post-Obama Administration years becoming an amateur gumshoe, The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, Age 83 1/4, a fictional account of an elderly man’s life in an assisted living facility that captures the poignancy, small joys and absurdity when the final grains are passing through the hourglass, and Broadway, a historical journey of the great Broad Way that has defined New York City for more than 400 years. 

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Prior years-in-review:

2017

2016

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011

December 21

I am on vacation from work until January 2nd. I have not taken a "real" vacation in almost 10 years. At first, it was because I did not have the money after I got divorced. Now, it is a combination of not having anyone to take care of P & G and not wanting to deal with all that goes into traveling. So instead, I just recharge at home. It is not the worst thing in the world and, I still get paid to do it.

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December 20

The cats woke me up at about 4:30 this morning. It was just as well. I am going to do some grocery shopping this morning before work, so I needed to get up early anyway. 

I was sleeping so well too. I tend to do that after challenging work outs. Here is what I did last night:

Warm-up & abdominals (10 minutes)

Interval Training (3 one minute sets of the following exercises with one minute of rest at the end of each interval)

Interval 1

plank jacks -> push ups

mountain climbers

one-legged push ups

squat thrusts

Interval 2

reverse lunge -> one-legged jump (right leg)

reverse lunge -> one-legged jump (left leg)

jump lunges

knee tuck jumps

jumping jacks

Interval 3

spider-man push-ups

plank jacks -> shoulder taps

donkey kicks

squat jumps

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December 19

I hate my job. I did not always hate my job but a while back I said something to someone I should not have said (which is very on brand for me) and I was moved from a practice group I excelled in to one I muddle through without much enthusiasm. 

I know what you are thinking. Quit. Find a new job. Well, I have sent out some resumes, taken a few interviews, but nothing has come of them. The other thing is age. The older I get the more risk averse I have become (I do not think this is unusual). My job pays the bills. It keeps a roof over my head. It is familiar, if imperfect. Fear of the unknown is a powerful disincentive to blow up your life, especially when 50 is on the horizon.

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December 18

Today is my office's holiday lunch. I am dreading it. Most of the people I work with are around my age or older. I have nothing in common with them. They have wives or husbands. They have kids. They spend their weekends going to soccer games and birthday parties and visiting colleges. I spend my weekends watching House re-runs, hanging with my cats and thumbing through dating apps. 

It is torture. I am not a social person to begin with (you are surprised, I am sure) but I am even worse at the small talk that lubricates these types of events. If you reach a certain age and do not have the life you are expected to have, you might as well not exist. Failing to conform to societal expectations is definitional when you are a teenager, but it erases you in middle age.

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December 17

The first thing you notice about getting older is how long it takes to get out of bed in the morning. Perhaps it is the time (usually between 5 and 5:30 am) or the time of the season (winter), but it takes easily 5-10 minutes from the time I open my eyes to the time I physically get up. Mental check - what is the day of the week? (Monday). What do I need to do today? (Go to work). 

Once up, I scurry into my sweats as quickly as possible. The cats are lurking. The house is cold. Drafty to begin with, it is not helped by the fact I set my thermostat to 60 degrees overnight (saving money is a product of growing up without it and not having much of it after I got divorced) and that winter inexplicably settled in weeks ago. 

Pumpkin and Ghost pad around as I start my morning routine. Wash my face (Noxzema and a splash of cold water), brush my teeth, take a piss. Welcome to another week of work. 

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December 16

When someone asks me how I stay in shape, they inevitably walk away disappointed. There is no magic pill or secret formula. It is two words - routine and discipline. You need to get into the habit of eating well and exercising regularly and then dedicate yourself to doing those two things for the rest of your life. While it sounds simple, it is hard to do. Life interrupts.

Today, it cannot be more than 40 degrees outside and a steady rain is falling. It is a perfect day to stay inside under a blanket, but there I was, shimmying into form-revealing compression gear and heading out to the gym for an hour of boxing and a half-hour of cardio. Now, take today, multiply it by a week, a month, a year, a decade - *that* is how you do it.

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December 15

One of the things I like most about New Jersey is the diner culture. I have mine (the Route One Diner, formerly the Crystal Diner) that I've been going to for almost 20 years, since before I even moved here. I have my usual order, my usual booth, and, although the servers have changed over time, when one leaves and another begins, they get my order right every time. 

Saturday is my diner day. After getting the cats squared away (boxes cleaned, food put out), I am there before 6 am. It is usually quiet, lonely middle aged guys like me, limo drivers finishing their overnight shifts, laborers fueling up before the coming day's projects, and the occasional youngster just finishing their night out. 

I dropped some clothes off at Goodwill this morning. I'd like to tell you I donate to Goodwill each year out of the goodness of my heart, but it is mostly for the tax deduction and space it opens up in my closest and drawers for new stuff. So, if you're in the market for some lightly used North Face, Banana Republic, and Nike gear, stop off at the Goodwill in Ewing, New Jersey.

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