{"id":39,"date":"2010-05-26T18:40:37","date_gmt":"2010-05-26T23:40:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/?p=39"},"modified":"2023-07-14T16:49:40","modified_gmt":"2023-07-14T21:49:40","slug":"whatre-you-saving-it-for","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/2010\/05\/26\/whatre-you-saving-it-for\/","title":{"rendered":"What’re you saving it for??"},"content":{"rendered":"

My parents used to joke that they didn’t know why they made such a point to vote in every election, since they\u00a0usually arrived together but always left having\u00a0cancelled out one another’s votes.\u00a0 Growing up, I never spent much time considering which way (Republican or Democrat–I doubt there was much third-party enthusiasm in our traditional household) each had cast the ballot, but I suppose in my naivete I imagined that women were mostly liberal, and men (read here, fathers<\/em>, since those were the men I knew) were mostly conservative.\u00a0 This, then, was probably how my parents were.\u00a0 My father has been gone for many years, but recently my mother has begun to be very vocal about her political inclinations and intentions.\u00a0 Really, very vocal.\u00a0 Since President Obama was elected, I’ve come to realize I had my parents figured wrong all those years.<\/p>\n

I wondered aloud last night what exactly has gotten into my mother for her to suddenly be so in-your-face<\/em> about politics, and my husband ventured this possibility:\u00a0 that after all these years of being quiet about what she thought, she’s decided at her (fairly-advanced) age to be silent no more.\u00a0 I had to think about this.\u00a0 Could it be true?\u00a0 Certainly, no one has ever had to stifle my mother’s urge to tell anything personal:\u00a0 from\u00a0finances to religion to politics, she has always played everything very<\/strong> close to the vest.\u00a0 Simply, she\u00a0was a very\u00a0closed person, partly out of decorum and partly just because she is<\/em> private.\u00a0 She was widowed over twenty-five years ago and never remarried, so there hasn’t been the question of a spouse’s approval.\u00a0 So why would this woman suddenly decide to throw\u00a0cards to the wind and attend (gasp) public (swoon) political rallies?<\/p>\n

I think my husband may be right on this one.\u00a0 I believe it is entirely possible that my mother has reached the age where she feels free to do whatever she wants without concern for what others think.\u00a0 Like many people, I am familiar with the poem “Warning–When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple,” by Jenny Joseph, which reads in part, “I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired \/\u00a0and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells\u00a0\/\u00a0and run my stick along the public railings \/\u00a0and make up for the sobriety of my youth.”\u00a0 Maybe my mother is doing this–making up for the [silence] of her youth. Maybe she saved her voice all those years just so she could use it now, and loudly.<\/p>\n

I think of all the other things people save, rather than having for everyday use.\u00a0 When I was a child, nearly all the houses I ever visited had two living rooms:\u00a0 one for family use and one for company.\u00a0 In many of my friends’ houses, the formal living room had a piano in it.\u00a0 But in only one of those did I ever hear anyone, other than the ten-year-old being forced to take lessons on it, actually play that piano.\u00a0 Were all those pianos just for scales and Chopsticks?\u00a0 What did all those parents think their kids would need piano lessons for?\u00a0 The answer is, well, someday<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Most of the people in whose dining rooms I have shared a meal have two sets of dishes:\u00a0 one for family use and one for company.\u00a0 The everyday dishes are, of course, sturdier and more casual in design–bold colors and sometimes whimsical patterns.\u00a0 The “good dishes” have names like Mitake and Lenox on their bottoms, and often a gold or platinum rim around the edges.\u00a0 These sit, when not in use,\u00a0in either the top shelves of kitchen cabinets (in the case of an eat-in kitchen) or the lighted display shelves of a buffet or hutch, itself in the formal (company) dining room.\u00a0 I’m not making fun:\u00a0 I have this arrangement, too!\u00a0 But what are we all saving our china for??\u00a0 Well, some as-yet-unidentified…future occasion.<\/em><\/p>\n

A friend gives you an expensive bottle of\u00a0scotch whiskey for Christmas. You get a really great pair of stiletto heels for a good price.\u00a0 Or you treat yourself to a pricey something you have been coveting for some time.\u00a0 And what do you do?\u00a0 If you’re like many people I know, you\u00a0set aside\u00a0the scotch, the shoes, the precious whatever, for a special occasion.\u00a0 I’m not saying there is never a time to be prudent; I’m just wondering what imagined\u00a0event we are all so optimistic about in our futures that we reserve all our best stuff in anticipation!<\/p>\n

I have a friend who likes to give leather-bound sketchbooks as gifts for birthdays and other occasions.\u00a0 Before she wraps each one, she opens it to the first blank page and doodles some little meaningless doodle there, effectively spoiling the pristine quality of a beautiful,\u00a0empty\u00a0book.\u00a0 Because if she doesn’t, she says, the book is too daunting for everyday use.\u00a0 The recipient will place it in a desk or drawer, intending someday<\/em>\u00a0to fill it with only complete, rehearsed work, eliminating the possibility of ugly erasures and failed attempts.\u00a0 And yet it is from that same\u00a0possibility <\/em>that some of the best work will be born.\u00a0 From everyday use, from practice, even wear and tear.<\/p>\n

This, then, is one answer to why we save our voices, our china, our suede shoes:\u00a0 fear and optimism.\u00a0 Fear of the wear and tear that everyday (maybe careless) use will\u00a0inflict on that which we prize.\u00a0 Optimism that there will be a day when we will have time to really enjoy these special things, to take care with them and relish them as they deserve.\u00a0 Too bad that day can’t be today.\u00a0 Too bad today can’t be a day when we could\u00a0slow down and really pay attention to all the\u00a0best things we have.\u00a0 Maybe for you it is.\u00a0 If so, a toast.\u00a0 With my best scotch, in a crystal glass.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My parents used to joke that they didn’t know why they made such a point to vote in every election, since they\u00a0usually arrived together but always left having\u00a0cancelled out one another’s votes.\u00a0 Growing up, I never spent much time considering … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=39"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":527,"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39\/revisions\/527"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=39"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=39"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cymbalmonkey.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=39"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}