2003-12-03 - 10:40 a.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Down to the River to Pray", Alison Krauss

November 26

I was thinking about that argument for having children -- "Who will take care of you when you're old?" Ernunnos mentioned it a few posts back. Generally I've thought of it to mean that my children would take care of me, specifically; ergo, I should have them. That's silly; I don't need my own children to take care of me. I would sincerely hope I could provide well enough for myself not to need them to do that.

On a societal level, though, it's more complex. If I want to have a nice retirement, I need there to be a society full of younger people working to provide the goods and services that make for the niceness. If people in general don't make children, you end up with a society full of old people and not enough young people to get the work done. Right?

Frankly, I'm just glad and grateful that other people voluntarily take on the responsibility of raising the people I will pay to take care of me when I'm old, because as much as I like children themselves, I really have no desire to be a parent and it doesn't seem to be changing any as I get older.

December 3

E-Lo

You people are just determined to celebrate my birthday, aren't you. ;) :P

Moving along, I've decided to take a page from Kit's book and mention how cute I look in my "homegirl hat":

That was taken yesterday in front of McSorley's Old Ale House in Manhattan. I took a day off and drove up there with my brother, who played tour guide and showed me all around his neighborhood (Upper East Side), Gramercy Park, and the Village, plus a few other spots we got off the subway to see (Grand Central and Ground Zero). We walked for miles and it was just freakin' fabulous. I'd been planning to do this for AGES and finally decided to just GO already.

The hat was purchased at some store on 3rd Avenue in the 80s, I think, for six bucks. I'd been eyeing this sort of hat for a while, but wasn't sure I could pull it off, and I was always alone when I tried one on. My brother is a sharp dresser and he approved ("You'd tell me if I looked like a dork, right?" "Yes."), so I bought it. Poindexter is now calling me "E-Lo" (Those of you who know my real name -- take the first two letters and substitute those for the "E" to hear what he actually calls me -- it's funnier.)

McSorley's, which I hear is something of a tourist trap these days, has a special significance to us. Our grandfather used to go there on a regular basis when he worked in Manhattan, and continued to go there for a few rounds after he retired, when he'd take the bus to Manhattan for the day. He told me about the long walks he would take, and about going to McSorley's for a bite to eat, and how he would get the crackers and cheese and onions and how delicious they were. About a year before he died, he went there with my brother and parents, and when they walked into the bar, the bartender remembered him even though he hadn't been there in years. Pop-Pop is that kind of person, though. Low-key, but very nice and charming and polite in an age when not many people are.

So, my brother had some dark beer, I had a few sips, and we ate cheese and crackers (ignoring the onions, alas), which were indeed delicious, and reminisced and relaxed. It was good. :)

(I said "Pop-Pop is" even though he died 1.5 years ago, but I'm going to leave it like that, because in my heart he still IS. :) )

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