Recently I’ve been having some irregular sleep patterns. I’ll go to bed and fall asleep promptly, but then wake up only a few hours later, with heart pumping and mind racing. When that happens, it’s hard to fall back into the REM cycle quickly, and I’ll inevitably toss and turn for as much as an hour, fretting all the while that I’m losing out on sleep that I need and will never make up.
But last night I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, slept through the night without any nocturnal wakefulness, and arose feeling refreshed. When I went down to make the morning coffee the birds were chirping, I unloaded the dishwasher with a happy feeling, and the coffee tasted richer and better than ever.
There’s no doubt that sleep is therapeutic on multiple fronts. The National Institutes of Health reports that, physically, the changes in breathing, heart rate, and blood pressure that occur during a good night’s sleep help to promote cardiovascular health, and while you sleep hormones are released that repair cells and control your body’s use of energy. And although the physical aspects of sleep are significant, the mental aspects are even more important. Getting your 7 or 8 hours of sound sleep enhances mood, alertness, intellectual functioning, and reflexes, while chronic sleep deprivation can lead to depression and anxiety disorders.
Knowing all of this, why doesn’t the human brain always do what is necessary to allow everyone to get their share of shuteye? Unfortunately, things don’t don’t work that way, stresses and concerns at work and at home can interfere with the sleep cycle, and then the lack of sleep and the irritability it produces can have a compounding effect on those stresses and concerns.
That’s one of the reasons why getting a solid night of slumber time after a few night’s of anxious restlessness feels so good. You may not be making up for lost sleep, but it’s comforting to know that your mind and body are back to their normal cycles — at least, until the next round of stresses and concerns hit.
Recently I went for my morning walk on a blustery, rainy day. As I was walking along, struggling with my umbrella in the gusts and grumbling about the cold, crummy weather, I saw a raincoat-clad woman with a dog. The woman also looked peevish about the rain and wind.
The dog, however, was undisturbed. It clearly recognized that, as a four-legged creature without clothes, rain slickers, or opposable thumbs capable of gripping an umbrella handle who was subject to the walking schedule and whims of its human companion, there really wasn’t much it could do about being out in the rain and the wind at that moment. It obviously needed to get out, walk, and answer the call of nature. And so, it just went about its business, as usual, without concern about the fact that it was getting soaked.
I was struck by the dog’s placid expression and its contrast with the stormy looks on my face and the face of the dog’s owner. There were no snarls or bared teeth — by the dog, at least. The dog, who was powerless to do anything about its situation, was imperturbable, while the humans who had total control were letting the bad weather bother them.
It was a very zen-like moment, and it made me realize that, in the right situations, there is value in following the dog’s example: don’t worry about what you can’t change, accept your circumstances, go about your business, and when you get back to that safe, dry, warm place . . . shake it all off.
On Thursday, drivers on U.S. Route 31 in Grand Haven, Michigan confronted one of those moral dilemmas that ethicists love to discuss. A fellow driver somehow forgot that he left a cash box containing $30,000 on the bumper of his car. As he drove on the highway, the box fell off the bumper and opened on impact with the pavement, and the thousands of dollars in cash spilled onto the road and into the air.
And thus, the ethical thought experiment met reality: if you were driving one of the following cars and saw the money on the road — where you were out in the open, surrounded by total strangers, where no cameras would see your conduct and no criminal consequences were likely to attach to what you did next — what would you do?
In this instance, other drivers immediately started stopping, scooping up the money, and driving off — conduct that, incidentally, caused a traffic tie-up on Route 31. Of the $30,000 in the cash box, only $2,500 was immediately recovered and returned to the owner. Since Thursday, police have appealed for drivers who pocketed the loot to probe their consciences and turn in the money. Only some have done so. Two teenagers turned in $630, which would sure seem like a lot of money to a kid, and one woman turned in nearly $3,900. The police commended them for their honesty. However, most of the money remains unrecovered.
Over the years, I’ve found wallets and car keys and credit cards and other valuable items, and I’ve always returned them immediately because I’d like to think other people would do the same with an item I misplaced. But before I hurt my shoulder patting myself on the back, I also recognize that I haven’t been in desperate need of money on those occasions, either. If you were at the end of your financial rope and suddenly saw hundred dollar bills on the Route 31 asphalt, would you do the honest thing — or would you think that your prayers had been answered and drive off with fistfuls of money without a second thought?
Today the Cap City half marathon and 10 K comes German Village. When the runners, walkers, and rollers reach Schiller Park they’ll be serenaded by a guy in lederhosen playing an accordion — because this is German Village after all.
It is a scientific fact that hearing accordion music makes you run faster.
The other day we were putting the finishing touches on a brief when an apostrophe argument arose. We needed to indicate the possessive for an individual whose last name ended in s. So, the question was, should it be “Mr. Jones‘ car” or “Mr. Jones’s car?”
I always use the former construction, but the Jersey Girl was adamant that the second construction is the only permissible approach. As is so often the case with grammar matters, the dispute became heated, passionate positions were staked out on both sides, voices were raised, and the Soccer Star, another member of the team on the case, heard the argument and came from a nearby office to enter the fray. From there, the dispute escalated quickly, and if it had continued one of the participants probably would have been seen galloping away from the area with a trident lodged in his or her back. But, because we needed to get a draft out the door, I yielded to the Jersey Girl’s resolute insistence that we must go with “Mr. Jones’s car,” and permanent injury was avoided.
Many people don’t really care about grammar, but for those who do correct usage is a very important issue. And one of the reasons that the question of precisely how to show that the car belongs to Mr. Jones is a point of great dispute is that there is no universally recognized right answer. Some authorities take the position that, whenever a possessive is used with a word ending in “s,” an “apostrophe s” must be added, others say that only an apostrophe should be used, and still others acknowledge that there is no correct answer and the key thing is to be consistent.
I prefer the use of the apostrophe only in this situation, because I think “Mr. Jones’s car” looks clunky. In addition, when I read and write I admittedly tend to sound things out in my head, and the Jersey Girl’s approach with its multiple back-to-back sibilants leaves me hissing like a snake.
Still, it was interesting to see how much people can care about grammar. And there’s nothing like a good grammar fight to get the tridents flying!
This week former Vice President Joe Biden formally declared his candidacy for the Democratic presidential nomination. He joins a very crowded field of politicians vying for the chance to square off against President Donald Trump in 2020.
Joe Biden is 76 years old. He was born on November 20, 1942; if he were to be elected, he would be 77 on Election Day, and 78 when he takes office. Bernie Sanders, who is another candidate for the Democratic nomination, is 77 years old and, being born on September 8, 1941, would be 79 on Election Day in 2020. If either of those candidates won, they would easily set a new record for the oldest person to be newly elected to the presidency — a record now held by the current occupant of the White House, who was a mere 70 when he was inaugurated. (The oldest President to be elected, period, was Ronald Reagan, who was 73 when he won reelection in a landslide in 1984 — a record that would be obliterated if the 2020 race turned out to be either Trump-Biden or Trump-Sanders.)
There have been some old Presidents in American history — some good, some not so much — and clearly people’s perceptions of what it means to be old in our current day are changing. As average life spans increase and medical care, diet, fitness, and general attention to health improve, some people argue that aging is really all about a state of mind, and “60 is the new 40.” And no doubt Biden and Sanders will produce medical reports that show that they are healthy, active, vibrant, and ready to handle the demands of an incredibly taxing job.
Still, Biden and Sanders are really pushing the presidential age envelope into uncharted territory. How will people react when, as Election Day nears, they really ponder the prospect of an 80-year-old President? No doubt people will be looking carefully at all three of the septuagenarians — Trump, Biden, and Sanders — for signs of age-related physical feebleness and mental slippage. Age is something that can’t be hidden, and one serious memory glitch during a debate could be all she wrote for a candidacy.
I don’t think it is improperly ageist to wonder about how age affects fitness for the Oval Office. In 2020, we may be answering the question: “How old is too old?”