INTENSIVE LOAFING
There’s an old saying that goes: “Evolve or die”. Actually that specific quote may not be very old. The idea was probably expressed in very different terms and then changed very gradually over time to adapt to the current colloquial climate, becoming the popular choice or, if you will, the “natural selection” as the surviving form of the phrase.
Funny how that works.
Anyway, I’ve always had trouble with change. When I was moving out of my bachelor hovel to move in with Michelle three and a half years ago I felt I was ending a major period of my life behind, leaving a womb of private space and independence. My last week in my own apartment I went out of my way to experience all the little qualities of living alone to which I was accustomed. I was watching tv late into the night, cooking myself intimate dinners of Swedish meatballs and Kraft dinner casseroles or simply basking in the silence and solitude. I was trying to imprint a state of living on my brain.
We’re now at EXACTLY t-minus two months before our baby arrives and anticipating an even more drastic life transition. As much as people may think of moving in with a girl as a big step, that’s nothing compared to the prophecies other folks are sharing with us about impending parenthood. Mostly it’s positive, with only the occasional guy visibly shuddering with that “your life is over” sort of look in their eyes. But the underlying conclusion is “Everything changes. Your decisions change. Your outlook changes. It’s not about you anymore.” People warn of loss of time, loss of leisure, and of course the outright denial of sleep.
So I’m trying to imprint my carefree existence during these remaining weeks, and I’m doing a damn good job of it. I am sleeping in like it’s the weekend every day. I’m re-reading comics I haven’t picked up in twenty years (currently in the middle of a 45-issue run of THOR that is most delightful). I am loafing with Olympic intensity. Michelle’s doing her share as well. Together we’re polishing off whole seasons of programs on DVD. I’ve even started taking “Lost” episodes to my mother’s house just to get her hooked on them so we can watch them together. Plus I’ve been going back and watching all those special features and audio commentaries that I’ve always been curious about. No time like the present, after all. At any rate, there won't be much longer.
Some may think we should really be using these last moments of “freedom” to take that trip to Mexico or sail around the world or what have you, but I’m quite happy to do the little things that have made my life the ball of contentment it’s been for the last couple of decades. If it really is “the end of the world as we know it” then I’d just as soon do the things that I’m actually going to miss.
And yet, I wonder how much I’ll really miss those things. Okay, I’ll miss sleep, I’m fairly certain. But the comic books, tv and all around lazing about? Seems that those activities will evolve, but not really die out. I’ll probably still read fantastic tales of daring-do, it’s just that I’ll be reading them out loud to a wide-eyed little whipper-snapper plopped on my lap. There will no doubt be videos being watched, they just might have more talking animals than I’m used to. As for lazing about, well, it may feel less lazy when you’re generally exhausted, but I foresee some time spent in a comfy chair, rocking a little pudge-bomb and just enjoying another special state of living. It’s not exactly loafing, but it seems to share at least some of the benefits.
It reminds me of another old saying: “The more things change, the more they say the same.” Of course I think that was originally a French expression that has undergone numerous translations and phrasings, probably quite different from the original version. But I’m sure the gist of it remains true.
Funny how that works.
There’s an old saying that goes: “Evolve or die”. Actually that specific quote may not be very old. The idea was probably expressed in very different terms and then changed very gradually over time to adapt to the current colloquial climate, becoming the popular choice or, if you will, the “natural selection” as the surviving form of the phrase.
Funny how that works.
Anyway, I’ve always had trouble with change. When I was moving out of my bachelor hovel to move in with Michelle three and a half years ago I felt I was ending a major period of my life behind, leaving a womb of private space and independence. My last week in my own apartment I went out of my way to experience all the little qualities of living alone to which I was accustomed. I was watching tv late into the night, cooking myself intimate dinners of Swedish meatballs and Kraft dinner casseroles or simply basking in the silence and solitude. I was trying to imprint a state of living on my brain.
We’re now at EXACTLY t-minus two months before our baby arrives and anticipating an even more drastic life transition. As much as people may think of moving in with a girl as a big step, that’s nothing compared to the prophecies other folks are sharing with us about impending parenthood. Mostly it’s positive, with only the occasional guy visibly shuddering with that “your life is over” sort of look in their eyes. But the underlying conclusion is “Everything changes. Your decisions change. Your outlook changes. It’s not about you anymore.” People warn of loss of time, loss of leisure, and of course the outright denial of sleep.
So I’m trying to imprint my carefree existence during these remaining weeks, and I’m doing a damn good job of it. I am sleeping in like it’s the weekend every day. I’m re-reading comics I haven’t picked up in twenty years (currently in the middle of a 45-issue run of THOR that is most delightful). I am loafing with Olympic intensity. Michelle’s doing her share as well. Together we’re polishing off whole seasons of programs on DVD. I’ve even started taking “Lost” episodes to my mother’s house just to get her hooked on them so we can watch them together. Plus I’ve been going back and watching all those special features and audio commentaries that I’ve always been curious about. No time like the present, after all. At any rate, there won't be much longer.
Some may think we should really be using these last moments of “freedom” to take that trip to Mexico or sail around the world or what have you, but I’m quite happy to do the little things that have made my life the ball of contentment it’s been for the last couple of decades. If it really is “the end of the world as we know it” then I’d just as soon do the things that I’m actually going to miss.
And yet, I wonder how much I’ll really miss those things. Okay, I’ll miss sleep, I’m fairly certain. But the comic books, tv and all around lazing about? Seems that those activities will evolve, but not really die out. I’ll probably still read fantastic tales of daring-do, it’s just that I’ll be reading them out loud to a wide-eyed little whipper-snapper plopped on my lap. There will no doubt be videos being watched, they just might have more talking animals than I’m used to. As for lazing about, well, it may feel less lazy when you’re generally exhausted, but I foresee some time spent in a comfy chair, rocking a little pudge-bomb and just enjoying another special state of living. It’s not exactly loafing, but it seems to share at least some of the benefits.
It reminds me of another old saying: “The more things change, the more they say the same.” Of course I think that was originally a French expression that has undergone numerous translations and phrasings, probably quite different from the original version. But I’m sure the gist of it remains true.
Funny how that works.
posted by David Pryde at 5:23 PM
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