Maiden Voyage

the good news

Before we split up, Susan used to read the news to me in the morning. Well, she didn't actually sit there and read to me. But as she read the Globe each morning, she'd gasp or wince or say "ohmygod" and I'd be forced to ask "what!?" and then she'd tell me. She'd synopsize most stories, unless it was particularly unbelieveable, in which case, she'd read the article or the offending portion to me. For 22 years, that's how I got my news. Through the lens of Susan I'd learn what was important, what was critical, who died, what I needed to worry about, what was tragic.

I'd catch the occasional snippet of news on TV, by accident, or on NPR while driving to or from work in the car, but my primary news souce was Susan. I was free to focus on the comics, my horoscope, the book reviews and maybe the arts section, more in concert with the bon-bon eating, dilettante persona I was perfecting, resting comfortably in the knowledge that Susan would feed me the news.

Since last September, I have been responsible for obtaining my own news. For a while, I picked up a free Globe and Times on my way into work. They were stacked in the basement level near the student activities desk, free, for the students. I ended up reading them a day late, because by the time I got them home at night, I was too tired to absorb much. And, besides, I'd gotten in the habit of taking my news with breakfast. Finally, I decided I needed my news the day it happened, not a day late, and broke down and ordered the Globe, home delivery. I get the Times headlines emailed to me daily, but it is the Globe I have with breakfast.

This year, on a whole the news has been very bad. The war(s), of course. The economy. SARS, famine, global warming, the Middle East. No news, or very little of it, is good news. However, this past week, was one of those weeks that made me glad I get a newspaper, glad I have become one who has the news with breakfast. First it was the front page article on Blogging. (BLOGS' SHAKE THE POLITICAL DISCOURSE , Published on July 23, 2003 by Joanna Weiss, Globe Staff). Even tho my blog is more likely to shake the plumbing discourse, I still felt like part of a movement. Like if I wanted to have an effect, at least I had this really cool vehicle. And I like the idea of political action, even if I don't seem to have the time or energy to actually live the life of an activist.

The next article that tickled my fancy was the one about the cell-phone mavin, Carol Page. (Now tell me that isn't her real name!) She's the self-appointed cell-phone etiquette-meister who even has a cell phone etiquette web site. There you can read an advice column, "Should I answer my cell at a funeral?" or be truly and deeply annoyed by dancing cell phones. Although I share with Ms. Page an abhorance of "cell yelling" I draw the line at her objection to the musical rings. I am always fascinated by which folks choose which rings. It reveals so much, don't you think? Another big objection Ms. Page raised was that people tend to talk about really personal things, too personal, she thinks, on their cell phones. All I can say is I rather enjoyed standing on line at the Broadway Market the other night listening to the woman next to me therapize her sister on her cell phone. It helped to pass the time. My own feelings about cell phones? I put off getting one as long as I could. I don't particularly want to be reachable at all times, to all people. But I love the fact that when Alex away at school or out late, I can always reach him! That is, unless he turns off his phone, his battery runs out, he leaves it in his other pants pocket or I get my signals crossed with a non-English speaking denizen of Manhattan.

So the news is mostly bad, and yet, despite everything, interesting. But today, the news was uplifting. Today, I learned that besides my health, there is something else to be thankful for: that I don't have paruresis, or shy bladder phobia. (Helping unlock the bathroom 'stall'; Research, seminars can cure shy-bladder phobia; By Kathleen Nelson, Globe Correspondent, 7/29/2003)

Yes I am neurotic, tending slightly towards full blown panic disorder and a little PTSS; I am deathly afraid of flying. But I am not afraid to pee in the vicinity of other people. In a public restroom, for example. Or in an apartment where others are present. I don't have to go off to a five day seminar where I hook up with a pee buddy and slowly, slowly let that person get closer and closer to me while I pee, potentially modifying my shy-bladder phobia. I'm not suggesting that I seek out situations in which I can pee in good company. But these long weeks, when my bathroom has remained torn apart from floor to ceiling, exposing the rusty innards of this aged house, when my upstairs neighbor telephones to tell me she can see into my shower, and I pee daily to strains of Jazz wafting up from the apartment below, I give thanks to the Globe for reminding me that life could always, always be worse.

Posted by grabiner at July 29, 2003 09:37 PM