I’d like to propose a word for last year: “Disingenuous.” It’s a word that’s stuck in my head, like a piece of music can get stuck in your ear.
Maybe it’s just aging – the way one word slips out of your mind every time you try to recall it, while another word decides to stay awhile. Does this happen to you? I can never remember the name of my favorite drug for instance, it’s an anti-inflammatory like Advil or Aleve but it doesn’t start with an “A.” I can’t won’t take opioids for pain, but this little pill does the trick. And as you know, 2024 has brought me a lot of pain. Its brand name is “Celebrex!”
“Celecoxib is a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID) used to treat mild to moderate pain and help relieve symptoms of arthritis (eg, osteoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis, or juvenile rheumatoid arthritis), such as inflammation, swelling, stiffness, and joint pain.” https://www.mayoclinic.org/drugs-supplements/celecoxib-oral-route/description/drg-20068925
I call this my wonder drug, and yet its name still eludes me. Celebrex lasts for twenty-four hours and doesn’t upset the stomach as much as other NSAIDs, but you do need an Rx. OTOH, I just watched an ad on TV of a young guy falling down, injuring his back, and calling AMAZON to Facetime a doctor and have his prescription delivered right to his door – all while lying flat on his back on the kitchen floor. Doctor and pharmacy visit avoided.
I wondered if the MD or NP on the phone was an AI for a second.
Which leads me right to the next word – the one that is stuck in my head – Disingenuous. To be disingenuous is to be untrustworthy, dishonest, deceitful. You can tell I HATE AI. It’s enough to make me a Luddite. Last year’s election, and the time before that when another exceptional woman wasn’t elected President, has left me bereft. My physical ailments notwithstanding, I feel as if our country has lost its way. Maybe it started with “alternative truth.” Bob has a problem with putting a possessive pronoun in front of truth to begin with… so this is MY truth? Listen to ME! For me, a fact… is a fact… is a fact.
And aging is a part of this circle of life. I’m not injecting toxic chemicals in my body to “fight” aging, because aging always wins. As I enter the last quarter century of my time here on earth, I am determined to slow down and simplify my life. In a Buddhist sense, I want 2025 to be my “aimless” year – no more running after happiness, simply cherish the present moment. I – you – we are enough. In that mood, I don’t need another dog. After Ms Bean died, I started questioning that decision, thinking maybe a lap dog would be fun. But no, it would also create chaos.
And no more disingenuous people please. No more two-faced politicians, like that Republican Senator from Louisiana with an unlikely name, John Kennedy, who stood disdainfully near the podium at a news conference after the New Year’s NOLA terrorist attack. He ridiculed an NBC reporter, and suggested there was some conspiracy the federal government was hiding, and that pure “evil” exists in the world. Old fire and brimstone, just another old white guy giving us all a scolding in an affected voice like Foghorn Leghorn.
The word for the New Year in our family is Twins! Congratulations to Aunt Kiki and the Rocker, their double feature is due in the spring. I’ve got a few weeks left of hand therapy and another baby blanket to knit, but I cannot wait to meet them.
This pandemic may have changed the idea of “Work” entirely, and it raises a set of fundamental questions that so far don’t have any clear answers.
I’ve read that among Millennials (those born between 1980 and 1994) and GenZers (born from 1997 onward) almost 90% do not want to return to their offices. States that have ended their supplemental unemployment subsidies this summer have not seen an uptick in job numbers. Everyone has a theory about why this is happening; is it due to childcare difficulties? Are we turning into a country of lazy young people?
Looking at this from a psychological angle and not as a purely economic conundrum, I sent my brother Dr Jim this essay – “Hard Work is not Inherently Virtuous,” by Elizabeth Spiers…or why do we need to feel productive in the first place? It’s asking a question I first heard asked by a Duke student at the Bride’s graduation:
“Do you want to live to work or work to live?”
He was saying he didn’t feel the need to enjoy his work so much, as long as it afforded him the time to do the things he really liked, like fishing and off-road racing. I remember Bob’s struggle with this friend’s answer because, in so many ways, being a physician was an integral part of his identity. And he always said he loved his work, which is probably why our first Millennial ended up in Med School. ER work can be like piloting an aircraft; hours of sutures and runny noses interspersed with a multiple vehicle car crash.
Not everyone has the temperament for that kind of adrenaline rush.
Then there’s the soul-crushing commute to work. Bob always liked the 30 minute drive home because he could decompress for half an hour before walking back into family life. In fact, he’d often listen to Beethoven in the car. But what if your commute was longer? What if it was an hour or an hour and a half one way?
“Working from home gave me two hours back a day, which I was thrilled about because to borrow from this excellent Ed Zitron column, I think of commuting as soft wage theft. I don’t recommend inducing a deadly global pandemic as a lifehack to get out of it, but when I got that extra time as a function of one, I made a point of not immediately using it to do even more work. Instead I used it to write more in the mornings (for my own benefit, not for work reasons), read more, and watch dumb cartoons I loathe with my kid while I drink my morning coffee and he explains Minecraft arcana to me. The irony is that it’s made me enjoy work more because I don’t feel like I’m giving all of my waking hours to other people. I get to hoard more for myself.”
This is why the Bride lives just ten minutes away from her hospital, and why the Rocker’s studio will be a part of his home. Aunt Kiki has been stuck working from home during the pandemic. She is a designer with a good sized firm, and she told me she misses the collaboration and creative stimulation of her office space. California is slowly opening back up as immunizations rise, so maybe by the time they move into their new house she’ll be able to return to her company. I was trying to imagine designing a hotel or whatever on a Zoom call, although I did “attend” a Bar Mitzvah remotely!
But what if you just don’t find your work very gratifying? What if you were for instance, pre-Pandemic sitting in a cubicle doing data entry? We’re talking about white collar jobs as opposed to factory work… or Amazon warehouse work. One of the Bride’s friends is a single mom and she works for a big insurance company, she had to juggle her child’s remote learning with her own deadlines. Will some of this work-home tension end when our little ones can be vaccinated and schools open next month?
“The lack of imagination is disheartening. The office may be an oasis when home is dreary and claustrophobic, (or vice versa) but when schools, cafes and co-working spaces open, the world will be different.” Younger people may be better prepared to handle a hybrid future encompassing WFH, after all they are digital natives.
It’s like the L’il Pumpkin said, “Why write a letter when you can make a Clip?” IF you love what you do, if your work brings you joy, then it’s never work right? That’s why I can’t fault these “TikTokers” and “Influencers” for starting trends and cashing in. The border between work and home is rapidly becoming more amorphous, and like most of my generation, I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. Here is Bob relaxing on vacation, and he’s not reading a medical journal!
MountainMornings 