As regular readers of the ‘Schmootz blog can attest, I don’t write about myself very often…at least outside of my political ponderings or entertainment selections that I deem personally worthy (or unworthy) of a viewer’s time. I tend to observe the world from thirty thousand feet looking down, instead of from ground level looking up and out. I know, it’s safer that way, and I don’t pretend it as anything else. I’m not above a few Freudian defense mechanisms of my own. Lately, though, I have been writing from the deep, personal trenches, and whether the results will ever see the light of day, it remains to be seen. What I do know is that this reflective experience, coupled with a few curves life has thrown at my family as of late, has compelled me to reflect upon my good fortunes and to appreciate more the plentitude of which I am graced.
In a couple of days, I’ll sit down to the American holiday of Thanksgiving, where pepper spray seems to be this year’s condiment of choice. As I occupy my thoughts, I surmise that I am certainly not one of the richest of Americans when comparing bank accounts, though let me say here, I am extremely relieved and much obliged that I have a good job that provides an ample surplus for my actual needs. Where I do find an obscene abundance of wealth, however, is in the indices where monetary estimations are difficult to apply. It is here that I find myself in the fortunate 1% of love, family, and friends. As a result, I feel that I should be liberally taxed to expound upon my thankfulness in proportion to my earnings.
My partner and I, though legally unwed and filing separately, have been together for quite a few years. I believe in a Kardashian matrimonial timeline, we have been in power-of-attorney bliss something synonymous to the Pleistocene era. I often refer to her as my better three-quarters because I believe a realistic relationship it is never 50-50. Just like the Dow Jones, there are emotional ups and downs, mostly due to speculation, but there has never been an extended period that I didn’t receive a special dividend like hearing the garage door go up after a long day and knowing she will walk through the door at any minute; like waking in the middle of the night to a head on my shoulder and an arm across my chest; like her mother’s difficult chicken soup recipe when I have a cold (the only time she ever cooks); like that extra vote of confidence to push me over the top and that honest shot of humility to pull me back from the edge. For that, I am eternally thankful.
Over the years, I have made quite the capital gain in friends, and I can honestly say that we anxiously rely on common shares of each other’s company. From technical advice, to new grilling techniques, to obscure pop culture trivia, our investments in these mutual corporations of real personhoods have certainly paid off. What might have started from some obscure individual fund, now matures as virtual writing advice over mutual morning coffee or hours long Skype exchanges half the world away. There is a saying that you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family. As far as I’m concerned, no statement has ever been more true, but speculation has served me quite well over the years, and I have a few friends who are more of a family asset and thankfully come with a lifetime guarantee…one in particular, an inheritance over several lifetimes.
So, yes, I am a one-percenter. I am blessed with a wealth of intangible assets that have been created by a loving work effort yet defy physical measurement. I say tax me more so that that there is such a thing as an equal share of a grateful, giving heart.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone…it is my sincere hope that you add goodwill and kindness to your balance sheet.