A Wrinkle in Time

I've been reading a lot about Minimalism, and have come to one conclusion: we spend the first half of our lives accumulating possessions, and the second half gradually discarding them until we arrive right back where we started from.

Shakespeare described it best. I can't believe I'm saying that, because I've never liked the guy. But he really nailed it in his essay about the different phases of life, with all the world a stage, and the men and women merely players, beginning with the infant, then the schoolboy, the lover, (sighing like furnace - my favorite part), and eventually, leaving the world just the way we came in, minus the iPods, the flat screen TV, the Mercedes-Benz, and everything else we thought we needed. I find that oddly comforting and here's why:

I began married life with a little money saved up from an office job, a stack of 45 r.p.m. records (mainly Elvis),  a stuffed elephant, set of Blue Willow dishes, some books by Robert Louis Stevenson and Rod McKuen, an old wooden radio, Royal manual typewriter, a best friend forever, and a Bible.

The money went for the down payment on a house. Over the years, all but a few of the dishes were broken; the typewriter finally wore out and was replaced by a computer. The records became cd's. My best friend and I lost touch. Things got complicated.

Life is simpler now. My friend and I reconnected and it's almost like it was in high school, except now the conversations are about grandchildren instead of the cute Geometry teacher down the hall. I found some Blue Willow dishes at a yard sale, and have most of the old 45's on tape where they don't take up so much space. I still love Stevenson and the Rod McKuen poems. The wooden radio works as well as ever and there's an Oldies station that plays a lot of Elvis. The Bible gives good advice, so who needs Dr. Phil? The wrinkle in time put me right back where I belong. So put another nickel in the jukebox and play Hound Dog for me, okay?

The spelling gremlins strike again: A book store advertises "Gifts, Cards, Stationary." Too bad; I was hoping to take some of those home.

Wally Lamb must have read our high-school diaries, because he knows what makes girls tick. In his first book, She's Come Undone, he follows Dolores Price through her teenage years after having lost her innocence at thirteen. A funny, tragic, John Irving-like story, well worth reading.

Merry Christmas! See you next week! (Don't buy too much stuff. . .)