Experiences, not stuff

      Everyone wants to be happy; even people doing rotten things believe that in some way, those actions will bring satisfaction or pleasure.  

     So, what makes people happy?  Stuff apparently isn't the way to go.  While buying a new gadget or the first drive in a new car may be thrilling for a short while, the thrill always fades, and we find ourselves back in the same place seeking the next purchase to keep the feeling going.  New purchases lead to new expectations; as soon as we get used to a new 'thing,' we start looking for the next fancier one.  And, the Joneses are always lurking nearby.  

     Experiences and relationships are clearly the way to go.  Multiple studies have found that people who went for experiences rather than material items were happier and felt that the money was better spent.  In fact, just the anticipation of an experience causes excitement and enjoyment, from the first moments of planning all the way through the memories you may cherish forever.  

     Thinking about this personally, I think that's true.  Sure, I thought that my new (to me) whitewater kayak was cool and I couldn't wait for it to arrive, but what actually lasted through many years was the memory of great times with my sons and friends on the trips where I used that boat. 

     Pretty soon, the new car was just a car, but the expedition in it with the kids to finish their scuba certification diving in springs in Florida?  We still talk and laugh about that, while the car long ago went to the junk yard.  By the way, there is still discussion as to whether or not I forgot and left that $20 in the glove box when it was towed away.  

     On the Saturdays before Christmas when the kids were still kids, we'd pick up 50 dozen hot Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts in that minivan at about 0630, shove them in the faces of sleepy friends in pajamas at their doors, yell "Merry Christmas!" and head for the next victims, laughing all the way.  Tell me something I can buy for $125 (yeah, they used to be a LOT cheaper) that can cause that much good experience and good will and good memories and I'll concede.  Not a chance.  And by the way, I'll put how that van smelled after the Krispy Kremes up against the 'new car smell' any day.  

     Also, if you're still convinced that things mean more than experiences, try giving the things to someone else - the folks who do the research say that works better at making us happy than getting them for ourselves.  

     It has been said that "money can't buy happiness - but it can make a darn good down payment on some fun!"  However, the studies like those above indicate that on the average, wealthy people are no happier than those with stricter means.  While grinding poverty is a predictor of stress, illness and even physical danger, as long as basic needs are met the playing field levels out.

    OK, what else works?  Among others, a long running Harvard study says "relationships."  How long-running was that study?  It began in 1938, and eventually included well over a thousand men of various economic and social backgrounds, from guys at Harvard to folks from Boston's poorest neighborhoods (President John F. Kennedy was even part of the original group.).  The study continues today, and it has found a strong association between happiness and close relationships like spouses, family, friends and social circles.  The participants blessed with these relationships even lived longer; it was found that loneliness killed - in the end, it was as powerful a predictor as smoking or alcoholism. 

 

     Without exception, we have been blessed with great kids.  They are very kind to us at birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries, lunar eclipses, Mothers/Fathers Days, etc.  They also have this stuff about things and experiences all figured out.  For one of their gifts this year, they got together and bought us a cooking class at a local frou-frou cooking equipment place.  We chose "Moroccan" on a Saturday night.

    Paula has a well-deserved reputation as a good cook, and was soon helping the folks in our group of four.

     The guy teaching the class was a professional chef, having cooked in several well-known restaurants in Raleigh.  (Paula has mainly cooked in the not-as-well-known-but-just-as-tasty place called Mama Paula's Kitchen.)

     In the end, the food turned out very well, we bagged some new recipes and cooking methods and enjoyed our time working with the other folks in the class.

     So, putting it all together, don't waste time and money on stuff!  Go help someone.  Go learn to do something new.  Pull those you love a little closer, and learn to love those you don't.  If the purpose of this life is to change our souls for the better, that shiny new thing isn't going to do it.  Find joy in service and kindness instead, and have some new experiences along the way.  You'll be happier in the end.

Dave & Paula

It's Almost Time!

     No, no, no!  You're thinking of the playoffs for the NBA, or the NHL, or the RNC or the DVD.  No!  It's almost time for the 5th edition of the WORLD NOMAD GAMES!  DUH!!

     If you had forgotten, (c'mon people!) these are the every-two-year games first held in the Issyk-kul region of Kyrgyzstan in 2014.  After a three-time run there, they were most recently held in Turkey in 2022, and  now Astana, Kazakhstan gets its six-day time in the spotlight.  Or campfire.  Or whatever.  

     The Nomad Games are a celebration of the heritage of the nomadic people of Central Asia, and are an attempt to preserve some of their unique activities.  After the Soviet Union took over the area, the folks who used to move their existence with the seasons were mostly made to stay in one place and farm, mine or make tractors.  The last time the games were held, over 3,000 athletes from 102 countries competed.  

     Archery?  Olympic style?  Bo-RING!  How about this?!

      I suppose this style of archery was originally invented after your enemies had made off with your upper limbs or something.

     Wrestling?  Pfff!  Make it a little tougher by involving some horses.   After all, they were first domesticated right there on the steppe of Kazakhstan abut 5,000 years ago.  It is said that as soon as there were two automobiles, there was a car race.  Probably same deal - as soon as someone got the second horse to take orders, horseback wrestling was invented.  

     Dropped your iPhone while riding out on the steppe in 1,538 BC?  No problema, or as they say in Kazakh, Проблема жоқ!

     Kentucky Derby hats?  

     Pfffff once again.  The folks over east were going OG Kazakh cool WAAAAYYY before that...like a couple of millenia before that.  

     While the Olympics may have badminton,

it's actually a lot cooler if you can swoop down and EAT your opponent's birdie.

     Burning Man?   Once again, a hearty Pfffff!  How about Burning Kazakh?!

     A sport (I guess it can be included in that broad category) that is popular throughout Central Asia, and is even the national sport of Afghanistan is bushkazi, or as it is called in Kazakhstan, kok-boru.

     This 'game' had to have been invented by guys, specifically guys with horses, a few extra goats and boredom.  You do not want to be the goat or sheep, as it involves losing your head, and then being fought over by up to hundreds of guys on horses, and then tossed in a goal.  What could possibly go wrong?  If it sounds hazardous to more than the goat, you are correct.  Guys and horses go down frequently, but hey, it's a game!  Right?  If you are keeping score,  Kazakhstan's national kok-baru team currently holds the title of Eurasian Kok-baru Champions.  So there's probably a banner hung in a yurt somewhere out on the steppe. 

    I could go on and on - there are actually 37 different sports.  I left out asyk tu, a traditional game involving tossing and catching - what else - sheep knucklebones (we do that for Family Home Evening sometimes), and ashyrtmaly aba gureshi, or Turkish Belt Wrestling, which Paula now refuses to participate in.  Sore loser; I was on a winning streak when she quit.  

    Anticipating a real crowd, a lot of folks are getting their seats early.  

     So why the sudden interest in such cool stuff as the World Nomad Games?  Our daughter Ashley, her husband Brandon and their seven kids have lived in Central Asia for the last dozen years, and this gives us opportunities to collect interesting passport stamps, most recently the one from Kazakhstan.  

     Astana, where they live, is the second-coldest capital in the world, second only to Ulan Batar in Mongolia, so we were careful to book flights during what passes for summer there.  Wow!  We saw zero Americans except for a few at church on Sunday.  Ashley had cooked up lot of interesting things, from the National Museum (lots of knives and pots that Paula doesn't want in the kitchen)

to appreciating how utterly flat the steppe is immediately at the edge of the city from high atop the Bayterek Tower,

to riding horses ourselves on the steppe (Man!  If only I had a headless goat!  Gotta make a list next time!)

to 'glamping' in cool geodesic dome things out in a birch forest in the middle of nowhere,

as well as a lot of other things that can't happen or you can't see in Raleigh.  

     Aside from being really, really far from home in every category, from distance (30 hours travel time - not on a horse) to culture, it was great seeing Ashley and her really good family.

     The World Nomad Games actually take place in September so that it can start getting cold; we only saw some preparations being made.

     OK, that gives me some time; maybe I can borrow a bow and some arrows and ride around the neighborhood to get practice.

    The head gear is cool, and there are a couple of dogs I don't like and...

Dave    

Cool! Now there are three 'Dr. Hendersons!' in the family!

     The first two are my brother and I, both MD's, both happily retired.  He fixed broken bones and damaged joints, and I delivered babies and did other stuff.  

     Mike, our youngest, has been married to his wife, Adrienne for nine years.  They have lived in Newark, Delaware for five of those years as she tackled and finished a PhD in biomechanics at the University of Delaware.  She'll begin her professorship at Brigham Young University in June, and they've been getting settled in Utah with their two daughters since moving there in March.  

     We had the honor of attending Adrienne's "hooding" this week, a ceremony sponsored by the university to acknowledge the completion of their PhD programs.  The apparent reward for years of lab work, long nights, lousy pay (if any) and other sacrifice is that you get to put on 'academic regalia,' also known as "weird stuff that you wear when you graduate."

     Wait!  Huh?!  That's it?!  No, no, NO!  Now you get to help other people in THEIR academic 'journey,' so that they, too can put on weird stuff when THEY graduate.   See?

     The origin of this seemingly dubious reward can be traced back to the origins of the first European universities, which were founded by clergy in the 12th and 13th centuries. With few exceptions, the medieval scholars joined minor religious orders and made certain vows.  The gowns and hoods (often brown or black in color) worn by the students signified their religious status, marking them as different from the lay people of the town in which they studied, hence "town and gown." 

     OK, yeah, but meanwhile the hoods kept the scholars’ shaved heads warm, at least back when the hoods were worn over their heads. The gowns also kept graduates warm in the unheated stone buildings in then-unheated Europe.  Nowadays, with central heating, the hood is just slung over the neck and hangs down in the back.  The cool octagonal velvet hat is called a "tam," and I am not making this up.

     Of course, there is an Intercollegiate Code of Academic Costume, first developed by none other than the Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume in 1895 and it sets out a detailed uniform scheme of academic regalia in the US, and I am not making this up either.  When I graduated from high school back in 1971, the Viet Nam conflict was still going on, and some of the more outspoken members of my class put peace signs on their headgear.  The IBAC would not have approved!  The penalties would have been fierce!

     Note:  when I graduated, photography had just come into being, and color was decades later.

     OK, sorry, back to the real subject.   

     Those were five tough years for Adrienne and Mike.  Along the way, they had two kids, they scrimped and saved and bought a house, she studied and taught classes, they scrimped some more, Mike worked remotely for an ad agency, they painted, weeded, held church callings, etc., etc., etc.  But in the end, Adrienne completed her studies, successfully defended her doctoral thesis, and finally got to purchase the version of academic regalia specific to the University of Delaware.  Whew!

     So last Tuesday, Paula and I braved Interstate-95 heading north through Richmond, DC, and Baltimore and up to Delaware.  

     With a length of 1,924 miles, I-95 passes through 15 states and the District of Columbia, more states than any other Interstate, and it is by far the busiest one.  Only five of the 96 counties along its route are rural, and the region it serves is over three times more densely populated than the rest of the US and is as densely settled as much of Western Europe.  The road serves 110 million people and facilitates 40 percent of the country's gross domestic product.  Take that, Route 66!

     All of that is terrific, but getting to Delaware on I-95 takes 6-9 hours of white-knuckled driving, fending off semi-trucks, major traffic jams, ignored speed limits, tunnels and all the rest.  However, we considered it a no-brainer and a privilege to go and see Adrienne honored for her hard work.  And along the way, we caught up on podcasts, listened to last week's Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, and checked out strange music that Spotify predicted I would like this week.  I think they've mixed me up with someone much more hip.  

     Mike and Adrienne left Kate, their five-year-old with Adrienne's mom in Utah, who, to Kate's delight, took her along to the elementary school were she works.  Let's see, go on a long plane ride and sit for several hours watching people in weird clothes, or have fun with Grandma?  Duh!

     However, to everyone's delight they brought along Emma Margaret, the World's Happiest Six-month-old.  Whatever they've done to this kid needs to be done to every other kid in the world.

     I fear that there were moments when grandmothers sitting around us at the hooding ceremony missed taking important pictures of their offspring while they were distracted by Emma.  Once she had given her gleeful opinion of the weird clothing, she took a nap.  A really cute nap, of course.

     It finally came time for Adrienne to be hooded by her advisor.  The academic regalia no longer looked unusual.  Now dignified and proper, it represented years of effort and told the world that she had overcome countless obstacles to teach it something new.  She was now a member of a rarified guild, ready to raise the next generation of learners to a higher level.  

     We are so proud of Adrienne for this achievement, and Mike for supporting her through it. 

     And now there are three "Dr. Hendersons" in the family!  I just wish I could have gotten some cool stuff like that to wear when I graduated... I think I need a tam.

Dave & Paula  

Strawberry Pie time!

      If you go to your basement and pull out the March 1964 issue of Better Homes and Gardens, you'll find the recipe for "Strawberry Pie."  

     You will also look around and realize that you have a problem, known as "Plyushkin's Disorder," characterized by "persistent difficulty in parting with possessions and engaging in excessive acquisition of items that are not needed or for which no space is available."  You need to a) get help, b) get rid of your stacks of Better Homes and Gardens, National Geographics and Popular Mechanics, and c) SAVE THAT RECIPE!

     There are strawberries, and then there are strawberries.  Our present-day strawberries are based on combinations of four native species found in North and South America, Europe and Asia.  Reference to strawberries are even found in Roman sources.  The United states produces a third of the world's crop, and California grows 90% of that.  

     However... strawberries grown remotely and then transported from such places must stand up to that travel and arrive in your grocery store in something resembling an edible state.  Although breeding has improved these remotely grown berries markedly, the local ones are still the way to go.  Agricultural scientists are madly working on the problem, trying to toughen up the really good ones.

     Unfortunately, this effort is complicated by the fact that domesticated strawberries have eight sets of chromosomes.  You, lowly human, only have two sets of chromosomes.  Bow to the strawberry!

     Locally grown strawberries in our region of North Carolina are picked that morning and are on the stands along the roads by 10:00 AM, 

     They are then found in Paula's kitchen by about 10:07 AM.  And at least a third of them are devoured by around lunch time, but hey, strawberry High Season only comes once a year.

     Do you still have that recipe?  Paula's sainted mother clipped it in April of 1964, and it has been guarded closely ever since.  It consists of a flaky pie crust and a creamy custard filling, topped with halved berries in a strawberry glaze.  

     There were many reasons why I married Paula, but there are even more why that marriage should continue, and this strawberry pie is one of them.  When we were in Peru, it caused grown men to literally bow at her feet.

     There is a long-standing tradition in the family that if a dessert is particularly good, one may lick one's plate.  This happened spontaneously when Paula's strawberry pie was introduced in that country.

    Note that the Peruvian location is corroborated by the presence of the Inca Kola bottle on the table.  The serendipitous fusion of cuisines only heightened the gustatory experience.  

     Now that it's just two of us, and age + metabolism = trouble, Paula will sometimes do the "miniature" version.

     It's existence after the picture was taken could only have been measured in femtoseconds.

     Paula has passed the recipe to her offspring, and it has spread to Central Asia, Coastal Carolina, and the Pacific Northwest, and now to the next generations.

     It's always sad when the last strawberry stand packs up for the year.  I guess it's back to cleaning the magazine stacks out of the basement and....  Hey!  That's cool!  I'd forgotten I still had these!

       No way I can throw THOSE out!

Dave, Paula and Alfred E. Neuman

I admit it; that was COOL!

      The next total solar eclipse visible in the United States will occur on March 30, 2033, but there aren't good motels on the northwest coast of Alaska or in northeast Siberia, and you know, March, so scratch that.  Next will be August 23, 2044.  I will be 90 years old (or not) when that one happens, but it will only pass through upper Montana and North Dakota, and that's too far to let a 90-year-old drive, even in August.

     So it had to be this one.  Those of you who know Paula will not be surprised that about a year ago she got the date of this year's eclipse, looked on the Official Eclipse Map and reserved a room in a Quality Inn in Lima, Ohio.  And by the way, don't try to fool anyone that you're from there unless you pronounce it "LYE-muh."  Apparently, it was named after the one in Peru (pronounced "Per-OOO"), like the capital city, which is pronounced "LEE-muh" and you won't fool them either unless your Spanish is better than mine.  It looks like both places had malaria in the 1800's, but the one pronounced "LEE-muh" had quinine, which is used to treat it, so they named the one in Ohio "LYE-muh."  Got it?

       

                                 LYE-muh                                           LEE-muh

     On the way to LYE-muh, Ohio (Peru is too far to drive), we stopped off to see a property recently purchased by our daughter and her husband who are presently in Kazakhstan, which you can pronounce however you want.  It is located in Rio Grande, Ohio.  The locals at the Taco Bell there will know that you are from out of town unless you pronounce it "RYE-oh Grand."  The land is lovely, but as far as you can tell from the picture, it could have been in Worchester, Mass. (pronounced "WOO-ster") or in Boerne, Texas (pronounced "BURN-ee").  

     Finally in Lima (whatever), we hung out for a couple of days, reading and watching the General Conference of the Church.  We knew that trips = calories, so trying to get some exercise, we discovered a great place to walk - the local cemetery!

     Lima, at this point pronounced however you'd like, peaked at about 53,000 inhabitants in the 1970 census, but by 2020 had dropped to 35,000 and change.  The graveyard spoke of more prosperous times with more people hanging around to fill it, and indeed the city mirrored much of the "Rust Belt" region.  Oil was discovered nearby in the late 1800's, manufacturing boomed for many years, but factories closed gradually after the 70's, and although M1 Abram battle tanks are still produced there, industry has largely passed it by.

     But not Waffle House!  One of the 1,900 outlets of that no-advertising purveyor of mainly Southern breakfast food (and what could be better?!) welcomed us in for our first meal ever,

thus erasing any temporary advantage gained by the morning's walk in the cemetery....

     OK, OK, but what about the eclipse?  I am pretty sure that the Quality Inn in Lima has not recently been sold out very often, but it looked like it was this time.  Scouting for a good eclipse-viewing venue, we decided on a hill on one side of the parking lot, making sure that the floodlights all pointed away.  

     By the time we arrived, a couple from Windsor, Ontario had staked out our spot.  However, as true Canadians, they were chill and friendly and even let us use one of their blankets.

     The hour finally arrived and through our non-bogus Eclipse Glasses, we watched the moon begin to eat into the sun's disk.

     Not much seemed to change around us for a while, but as the crescent of the sun became thinner, as seen through our non-Amazon Eclipse Glasses, a strange, dream-like twilight descended, and I noticed that the dozen or so buzzards that had started circling us were headed for their nests.  (Do buzzards have nests?)

     And then it happened!  Suddenly the thin crescent of the sun disappeared, as viewed through our glasses conforming to and meeting the Transmission Requirements of ISO 12312-2 Filters For Direct Observation of the Sun. 

     We ripped them off and stood in awe.  The corona of the sun shown beautifully around the moon, with several tiny bright-orange solar flares projecting from it's edges.

     Looking around, the twilight had darkened further, but an almost-sunset could be seen in the distance, first behind us, then all around, then sadly, advancing toward us.

     Just after the fourth minute of the amazing totality ended, a mere instant of the "diamond ring" was visible before we grabbed for our glasses once again.  

     Afterward, it seemed like a dream.  It was impressive how soon the intensity of the daylight seemed back to normal, even though it took another hour or so before the moon completely unmasked the sun.

     OK, was it worth driving about nine hours each way?  Yeah, I think it was, even though the Eclipse Glasses didn't do much for our fashion sense. 

     I'd been a bit skeptical about the enthusiasm with which folks had described their experiences attending previous eclipses, but I have to admit, they were other-worldly moments that I'll not forget.  

     We stayed the night in Lima, though there was little of the feared traffic after the eclipse.  The next morning we started early for Raleigh (pronounced "RAH-lee") and by the afternoon we were unpacked and back to our sordid little lives.

     We hope that you were able, or will be able to attend an eclipse sometime.  And by the way, we've got five almost-new sets of Eclipse Glasses you can borrow.  Certified.

Dave & Paula