Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts

Saturday, January 18, 2025

A Scattershot Approach to New Year’s Resolutions

Introduction

Well, it’s that time of year again, when you start to wonder whether your neighbors are ever going to take down their holiday lights, your friends start cracking jokes about turning “dry January” into “moist January,” and you find yourself endlessly ignoring articles about New Year’s Resolutions. Well, don’t ignore this one, because, well, just don’t. I worked hard on it. I mean, I’m about to. I will have worked hard on it by the end, unless it comes easily, who knows … wish me luck.


The scattershot approach

If you’re a longtime reader, you may recall that I’ve taken a variety of approaches to the New Year’s Resolution topic, from beating around the bush to a one-size-fits-all blanket Resolution to the highly specific treatment to the “wide net” approach. Well, I’m taking this latter tack again this year: throwing out a bunch of suggestions in case one or two hit home with this or that random reader. It’s like speed-dating. So get ready … many of these won’t apply to you, a few might, and I hope most of them will give you a chuckle if nothing else.

Get out there

I think a lot of people developed bad habits during the COVID-19 pandemic. It became so easy to stay home, spend half the day in pajamas and the other half in sweats, amortize that pandemic-purchased treadmill or Peloton exercise bike, and basically embrace our inner troglodyte. Well, it’s time to unlearn that. Why? Because humans are social creatures. I have been getting out more myself—less indoor training, more errands on foot, and I’m even doing more window shopping—because seeing other people out and about is like a balm to me now after having been cooped up. I’m actually surprised by this, having been a lifelong introvert, but there you have it. Even when I’m stopped at this one endless traffic light in Orinda during my bike rides, I take pleasure in seeing the menagerie of motorists parading by. So resolving to get out there more isn’t just for yourself—it’s for everyone else, too.

Stop floss-shaming

I guess I should say floss-self-shaming, by which I mean feeling like an idiot because you find it such a struggle to throw away a strand of used dental floss. You try to ball it up (it won’t stay balled), maybe you twist it into a snake so it’ll be shorter (pointless), you try everything, but when you go to drop it into the wastebasket it never lands there. For me it’s particularly hard because the bathroom trash can is always sliding into the far corner behind the sink and when I stoop to drag it out I have to watch I don’t bonk my head on the medicine cabinet door, and then the can’s got that pedal-activated lid that’s tough to use when I’m all crouched over because my vision is so crappy that it’s hard to see if my floss made it all the way in, only part of the way, or none of the way. Disposing of floss at day’s end is such a discouraging task, it makes me wonder if life has just gotten too difficult to even stand.

But there’s hope! Last week I stumbled across a New Yorker cartoon on this very subject: a guy meets his gal at an outdoor coffee shop table and says, “Sorry I’m late—I was trying to throw a string of dental floss in the garbage.” So fear not, we are not alone. It’s not just you and me being lame … this floss difficulty is a known thing. So have some self-compassion around this. (And no, self-compassion will not make you a wuss.)

(Now, if you though this Resolution was about not needing to floss, that’s absurd. If you don’t already floss at least once a day, make that your Resolution. We only get one set of teeth, and we’re all living longer … I could write a whole post about dental hygiene. In fact I did.)

Get less takeout/delivery

It seems like we live in the golden era of takeout (unless that  era is still ahead of us, meaning one day nobody will ever cook or go out anymore). This needs to change. There are so many reasons to get less takeout. First of all—and I speak from experience here—it’s so often a capitulation. Not something festive or fun like going out, but an admission that you just don’t have the gumption to cook. Why pay money to indulge a sense of defeat?

Meanwhile, there’s the packaging. Just picture all those plastic and styrofoam containers, yours and everyone else’s, lining our landfills … doesn’t it fly in the face of last year’s Resolution to take better care of the planet? And don’t kid yourself about recycling. My trash company sent us this stern bulletin recently that said something like, “We’ve changed our policy around recyclables. Only cans and bottles will be accepted: no other form of plastic is allowed, and we will be watching your bin. You get only one warning and then we will fine you a gazillion dollars. And don’t even think about sneaking your plastic into a neighbor’s recycling … if you try that, rest assured, we will find you, and we will kill you.” (Yeah, I exaggerated a bit, but it really was a snotty bulletin.)

What’s more, you’re doing your local restaurant a disservice because the lovely food they create is severely compromised by the transportation delay. It’s less than piping hot, and it’s sweaty from being trapped with its steam, plus the presentation is ruined. So the restaurant you think is just-okay is probably actually great but you no longer know it. On top of that, you’re slowing down the restaurant’s kitchen and thus compromising the experience of their dine-in guests, all because you’re too lazy to put on a pair of pants, brush your hair, and go be out in the world. (Didn’t I just tell you, via my first suggested resolution, to get out more?)

Delivery is even worse … you have to pay extra, plus tip the driver, and you’re not even leaving the house. I was shocked to learn that people are now using DoorDash to get McDonald’s. As if a non-piping-hot French fry were even edible. And McDonald’s is actually calling this McDelivery®. Did you just throw up in your mouth? I did, too! The center cannot hold. The falcon cannot hear the falconer.

I know what you’re thinking right now: “Yeah, but who has the time to cook?” Well now wait a second. Haven’t you been going on and on, like everybody else, about how useful A.I. is, and how much time you’re saving using ChatGPT? For example, when your daughter needed help with her homework for art class, and instead of spending an hour or more counseling her you just outsourced it and got a finished artwork in under two minutes?


Think of all the time A.I. has freed up for you to cook! And hey, here is a link to some easy recipes even a time-strapped college kid could make. (No, they’re not perfectly salubrious but neither is the stuff restaurants produce.)

Get control of your dog

I am not a dog person, which gives me special insight into what’s it like to not be enthralled by dogs. If you are a dog person, it might come as a real surprise to you that what you consider either adorable or at least lovably rambunctious misbehavior is actually a drag for grouches like me. For example, I’m out for a walk and your dog comes bounding over to me and tries to run up my body, his front paws raking my legs and groin, and you call out, “Don’t worry, he’s friendly!” And I’m thinking, fine, you’re probably friendly too, but would you windmill me like this? Or, your dog terrorizes me with aggressive barking and instead of apologizing to me, you only bawl out the dog, as though I could get satisfaction from that. Look, I can enjoy dogs, if they politely come sniff me and wait patiently to be adored. Maybe you could, like, train your beloved pet better so that everyone can love her?

Stop using my hairbrush

This one really only applies to my younger daughter when she’s home from college. So, L—, to be clear, it’s actually okay if you use my hairbrush on the sly such that I don’t even know about it. But when I have to look for it, I get nervous … what if you took it to a slumber party and lost it? As you know, it’s my oldest possession so I’m inordinately fond of it. And to my other readers: if you routinely borrow a hairbrush (or anything else) that is somebody’s oldest possession, please stop, or at least be more discreet.

When in Rome, wear a mask

I am not suggesting that there is an outbreak of COVID or any other disease in Rome. I mean this figuratively, and what I’m saying is, if you enter a business where the staff are wearing COVID masks, maybe you should, too, just out of respect. It’s no real hardship, after all, and isn’t it nice getting sick less often than we used to? After those pandemic years it seems like every jacket I own has a mask in its pocket, along with every bag and backpack. So just put that mask on as you go through the door … don’t cost nothin’.

Stop wearing a mask alone in your car

Look, in the early days of the COVID lockdown when nobody know what was going on, we did all kinds of silly stuff, like forensic-grade wipe-downs of shopping cart handles and wearing a mask in the car. But it never made sense to wear a mask when driving alone, did it? Are you worried you’ll give your car COVID? This behavior makes even less sense now than at the height of the pandemic, but I still see people doing it. If that’s you, just stop. You’re making mask-wearers look like lunatics. Let’s not re-kindle that whole mask-ideology war, okay?

Entertain more

Remember when people hosted dinner parties, or cocktail parties, or birthday parties? Well, at least in my community, it seems like entertaining guests has become a lost art. Is it just me or are fewer people hosting than in years past? (That you can’t reply “It’s just you” is why albertnet is a blog, not a panel discussion.)

I think people have either gotten lazy, or out of practice, or they’ve just forgotten entertaining is a thing. Look, if you have social anxiety, don’t worry about it … blow this Resolution off. But if you used to host parties or dinners, how about reflecting on how fun that was, and getting back into it?

Lose the motion-activated stadium lights

Most nights, my wife and I take a walk after dinner (we call it our Post-Prandial Promenade) and it’s all very pleasant except the half-dozen or so houses that have installed motion-sensor-activated lights that are blindingly bright, like we’re suddenly being interrogated. What the hell? What ever happened to the 40-watt porch light? Trust me, that was enough to deter burglars, who a) can be spotted in very low light, and b) don’t tend to do their thing at 8 p.m. anyway. If you have one of these crazy-bright lights, you’re basically blinding your neighbors on a regular basis. What for? Are you worried we’ll veer off the sidewalk, trip on your lawn gnome, get injured, and sue? With this thoughtless technology you are being antisocial, and giving me—a conscientious, law-abiding citizen—a serious temptation to commit vandalism (e.g., bringing a slingshot on my walks to take out your light bulbs).

Stop holding your smartphone up to your mouth

I’ve seen this for years: an otherwise normal-looking person is using his or her smartphone in speakerphone mode, but has determined that the person on the other end of the call may be having trouble hearing, and thus holds the phone directly ahead of his or her mouth as if about to take a bite out of it:


This might seem like a victimless crime, but it’s really not. Not only does it look ridiculous, but it reminds the onlooker that this person is so lost in his phone call he’s lost awareness of being out in public—which is unnerving. Earbuds with microphones are so cheap and unobtrusive, not to mention they protect your caller’s privacy. Why not just use them? As a bonus, you might be mistaken for a crazy person talking to himself, which is amusing.

But seriously…

If you earnestly want some help with your Resolutions and are disappointed with the above suggestions, here are some less flippant ones:

 Further reading 

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Tuesday, August 23, 2022

Ask an Empty Nester

Dear Empty Nester,

I’m about to send my youngest off to college, and the way she’s talking, I doubt I’ll even see her over the summers. It seems she’s gone for good, which I guess is the whole idea. My question is: what should be done with her bedroom? I don’t want to make it into a shrine or anything, but to eliminate all trace of her seems a bit callous. Any suggestions?

Jeannie E, Seattle, WA

Dear Jeannie,

To some degree, this is a matter of real estate: how large is your home? If you lived in a land of giant houses, like, say, Houston, any modification to that room might not be worth the bother. But if your home is typical of Seattle, sounds like you could really use a proper guest room. So you’ll want to make that room attractive to your friends and relatives, which means pulling down the BTS or Monsta X poster, ditching the stuffed animals, upgrading the battered old bumper-sticker-plastered dresser, and if necessary (e.g., if the walls are red or black), repainting.

That being said, if you want to preserve something of your daughter’s essence, in an aesthetically pleasing way, leave her bookshelf exactly as is. Perhaps you have fond memories of seeing her behind this or that book, and after all you probably bought her some of them, especially if your daughter was wise enough to insist you hold on to her favorite children’s picture books. (Note that if your kid doesn’t have a bookshelf full of books to leave behind, you’re a shitty parent and all bets are off.) (Kidding!) (Sort of!) (No seriously, I’m kidding!)


Dear Empty Nester,

My son’s grand European tour dovetailed right into his departure for college, so my husband and I got an early start on our empty nester experience. The main thing I’ve noticed so far is that we’re kind of snippy with each other, especially about—of all things—the perennially low gas gauge in our car. We used to blame our kid for this (and frankly he earned that), but with him gone it’s still going on. My husband swears he doesn’t run out the tank, and while he’s not known to be delusional, I’m sure I’m not the culprit either. Are we losing our minds?

Emily K, Portland, OR

Dear Emily,

This could just be a phase as you adjust to life without your son around. Perhaps both you and your husband are flakier than you think when it comes to filling the tank, having long scapegoated your kid, and now the size of this problem is being exaggerated. You might also reasonably chalk some of this up to sky-high gas prices; maybe you’re getting just a few gallons at a time because you keep finding yourself almost out of gas without a reasonably cheap gas station nearby.

There’s a silver lining here, by the way: at least your son learned to drive! As described in this Wall Street Journal article, a growing number of Gen-Z kids aren’t bothering to learn; in 1983, 46% of 16-year-olds got their driver licenses, whereas in 2014 that had fallen to 24.5%. Don’t get me wrong, cars suck and we should all be biking instead, but knowing how to drive is an inarguably useful skill.

Dear Empty Nester,

It’s been almost a year since we dropped our child (er, adult, I guess) off at college, and when he didn’t even come home for summer break, my wife and I relapsed right into the empty nester funk we’d suffered originally. It might even be worse this time. It’s so bad, my wife is talking about getting a dog. This initially struck me as a really weird, hail-Mary type of notion, but I’m starting to think I’m just crazy enough to try it. What do you think?

Malcolm R, Oakland, CA

Dear Malcolm,

First of all, I am not a dog person, so I am fundamentally unqualified to answer this question, but I’ll give it my best shot anyway.

If you have never had a dog, this seems like a strange time to get one; or, to put it another way, if you’ve lived this long without a dog, do you actually fancy yourself suddenly becoming a dog person? Meanwhile, there are practical things to consider: as an empty nester you now have the opportunity to travel more, but a dog can seriously cramp your style. You should probably interview your dog-owning friends see what you’re getting into.

It also strikes me that a dog would be a questionable replacement for a typical teenaged human, with their moodiness, their tendency to hole up in their room, and their inevitable lack of greeting when you arrive home. In short, it’s likely your departed teen behaved more like a cat. Wouldn’t that be a more realistic surrogate?

Dear Empty Nester,

Why are we called empty nesters, anyway? It’s not like the nest is gone; we parents are still in it, thank you very much!

John S, Ashburn, VA

Dear John,

I wondered the same thing, before learning more about the avian behavior underlying the metaphor. For one thing, as described by Audubon, a bird’s nest exists purely for the eggs and hatchlings, and is then abandoned. If we want to be pedantic about it, the empty nest metaphor isn’t very apt unless the parents sell their home and move.


But it actually gets even more complicated than that. The real power of this metaphor derives from its allusion to brood parasitism, the practice of a bird laying its egg in another bird’s nest, manipulating the creator of that nest (the “host”) into raising its young. Isn’t this how all parents feel, before their nest empties out—as in, “Who are these evil teenagers and where did my sweet little children go?!” (This is related to the concept of “soiling the nest,” wherein—perhaps by biological design—your teenager becomes more and more annoying over time, to make his her departure a relief rather than cause for lament.)

The metaphor of brood parasitism is also a means to understand the guilt you are feeling now: just to get this kid out of your hair, you’ve planted her in a college dorm, making her her RA’s and roommates’ problem. They can try to get her to turn her stereo down, stop slamming doors at night, and not leave piles of laundry all over the floor. Offloading your chick to someone else’s nest feels  downright irresponsible, doesn’t it? Yeah … she learned from the best.

Dear Empty Nester,

This is really weird: although I think I’m coping pretty well with the empty nest (it’s only been a week), I startled myself the other day by calling my husband by our son’s name! Even more surprising, my husband says this was the second time I’ve done it. Am I losing it, or is this a known phenomenon?

Tracy A, Castle Rock, CO

Dear Tracy,

I have not only heard of this, but I did it myself! I wouldn’t read too much into it … just a brain glitch I think, based on your departed kid being on your mind. Perhaps it’s like that game where you tell somebody to say “stop” fifty times in a row, and then you ask him, real quick, “What do you do when you see a green light?” and he answers, “Stop!”

If, on the other hand, you start calling your husband by your ex-boyfriend’s name, then you might have bigger issues, like you’re reverting too far back to your previous life…

Dear Empty Nester,

I am having a disagreement with my wife about how much contact we should have with our son during his first couple weeks at college. She thinks he might be shy about reaching out to us for assistance, but I’m guessing he’ll love the independent feeling and would prefer to be left alone. When it comes to phoning, emailing, or texting a recently fledged kid, how much is too much? Please reply soon … we’re sending him off next week!

Rob S, Council Bluffs, IA

Dear Rob,

This will certainly vary from kid to kid, and based on where yours falls on the spectrum from already independent to totally coddled. I guess I would err on the side of less contact, since there are so many resources available to kids these days, with their parents likely being be a last resort. Remember, when our generation started college there was no Internet; most students lacked cell phones; and there was no Amazon … and yet, we somehow survived.

My younger daughter, a freshly minted college freshman, mentioned recently during an (albeit brief) phone call home that her alarm clock had broken and she had no idea how she’d wake up in time for her first class on Monday. So I suggested she use her (non-smart) cell phone, which surely has an alarm clock feature. She seemed to shrug off this idea, and dropped the subject. Well, the next day I downloaded the owner’s manual and sent her the instructions via email. Shortly after that, I sent her an unrelated email about some college lecture notes from thirty years ago I’d just stumbled across, relating to Nikolai Gogol, a writer we both enjoy.


Well, guess which email my daughter responded to first? Correct: the random one with no practical purpose, about how Gogol was a disgusting little kid, etc. To be fair, my daughter did reply to the alarm clock one too, but only to say she’d figured it out on her own. I have to say, I felt much better about the Gogol email. Her response to it told me she was alive and well and on top of her correspondence, and I didn’t feel like a mother hen. (Frankly, I’m more of a father rooster at heart.)

Dear Empty Nester,

I’m going to be an empty nester soon, along with a few of my friends and neighbors, and at some point someone was talking about silver linings and said something about free stuff. Is there some way to get free stuff out of this deal? I hope it’s not just bumper stickers or ball caps from the university…

Peter L, Albany, CA

Dear Peter,

You’re in luck! It just so happens there’s plenty of free stuff in our community, thanks to parents cleaning out their kids’ rooms. I’m seeing all kinds of perfectly good things dragged out to the curb: desks, chairs, old lamps, a clock radio, a boom box … you get the picture. My wife set out the six or seven stuffed animals our kids didn’t insist on keeping, and they were all taken … even the home-sewn turtle whose head was starting to come off. If you hurry, you might still nab this stereo cabinet (if that’s what it is) though I already scored the little alarm clock:


Dear Empty Nester,

My son, who starts his freshman year in a couple weeks, shocked me the other day by casually mentioning he’d be coming home once a month or so to do his laundry. (His college is only a couple hours away.) Is this a standard behavior? Should I allow it?

Lisa N, Sacramento, CA

Dear Lisa,

Look, this kid has a lot on his plate. He’s got his grades to think about, and making friends besides! I think you should drive out there twice a month, pick up his laundry, and do it for him. And bring him lots of baked goods while you’re at it (cookies, brownies, etc.). And if you really care about him succeeding socially, you should probably do his roommates’ laundry as well. And then write all their papers for them.

Have I made my point? Your son presumably has his tuition and dorm fees covered … he shouldn’t even be asking about laundry.

Dear Empty Nester,

I just have to say it: my youngest is going off to college soon and I’m already feeling pretty down. One way I try to process these kinds of feelings is through art, literature, etc. that goes into the problem I’m grappling with. That said, I don’t want to spend a lot of time wallowing in my grief by reading a 400-page novel on the topic. Any recommendations for a good empty nester movie or something?

Aaron W, Minneapolis, MN

Dear Aaron,

I know just the thing: “Bao,” an animated short film from Pixar (available on Amazon Prime Video). There’s a nice interview with the director and the producer here.

Dear Empty Nester,

That bit about brood parasitism being part of the empty nest metaphor ... you totally made that up, didn't you.

Mike R, Sheridan, WY

Dear Mike,

Yeah. I did.

Dear Empty Nester,

I’m getting ready to drive my kid cross-country to drop her off at college, and I completely grasp that this is the intended outcome of her upbringing, that things are going to plan, and that the best case scenario is that she immediately adjusts, thrives socially, and doesn’t give her family a lot of thought. At the same time, I must confess I’d feel heartbroken if she didn’t miss her father and me at least a little. Is there any way for me to tell if she does, or will, and is that even realistic to hope for?

Kaitlin C, Fairfax, CA

Dear Kaitlin,

This is a common question (fielded not so long ago by the columnist College Dad as well). The fact is, you should brace yourself for your daughter to be totally unemotional during the final sendoff (even if you’re crying your eyes out), and pretty blasé in the weeks to come as well. Bear in mind, she’s blasting off into an exciting future, and all her hormones are united in jettisoning her old life with extreme prejudice. You are correct that the best case scenario is a swift and complete detachment.

That said, if your family has a pet, your daughter will surely miss him or her. Pets are much more attractive and cuddly than parents, and never pester the kids for anything but food (which after all is easy and fun to serve up). I also wonder if longing for the family pet is a kid’s way to sublimate homesickness into a more acceptable form.

Our younger daughter’s big goodbye took place last week, and it was predictably brief and offhanded (especially for her). But during her final week at home, she was moved to write a poem about our cat Freya. The poem ponders how little we can understand our cat; how differently she perceives the world; how she likely doesn’t differentiate between dream and recollection; and how little she perceives absence. The poem concludes:

Yet when I’m gone
Perhaps the slightest lack is felt, she’ll start
At one more cold place in the house.
And so I’ve left, within her scattered mind,
A memory of warmth


An Empty Nester is a syndicated journalist whose advice column, “Ask an Empty Nester,” appears in over 0 blogs worldwide.

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