Replete

Ants come in many varieties; honey ants are particularly interesting because among their various forms is a type called repletes. The repletes have extra large capacity abdomens that can swell to several times their body size. This anatomy allows them to transfer nectar. The workers are repletes because they are replete--filled to capacity and seemingly beyond. Our lives can be replete, too. On any given day, responsibilities, opportunities, and commitments can pile up and overflow the 16, 17, or 18 hours allotted by the day/night cycle and the need for sleep. Today is replete with good things. My mother is visiting from San Bruno, arriving yesterday afternoon on a flight from SFO. After dinner last night we drove to Irvine's Great Park (under construction, therefore only semi-great) to dance to a live swing band. This morning we will head to Laguna Beach where Stephanie and my mother will sensibly set up chairs on the beach at Shaw's Cover, sip hot coffee, and watch two mad men submerge in scuba gear and re-emerge 45 minutes later. After lunch we will meet up with Hilly and Allison and drive to La Jolla to enjoy the company of Kiely, Bob, Amy and James. I'm told that barbecued steaks are on the menu. Replete, indeed. The honey ants got one thing right: They filled up on nectar.

Dessert in Disneyland

Our anniversary celebration at Disneyland and California Adventure stretched to more than 15 hours, finishing after midnight. In typical fashion, we moved constantly to maximize fun. This meant interleaving rides, meals, and shows within the narrow time windows marked on our fast-passes. At the end of the day I felt victorious--we did it! We started with Soaring Over California. It's my sister Janet's favorite, and I see why: It credibly simulates flying over our incredibly beautiful state. Stephanie bravely rode the California Screamin' roller coaster--loop-the-loop and all. Rushin' River Rafts, Captain EO, and World of Color filled the hours. The centerpiece of our day was dinner at Club 33. Disneyland's private club is marked only by a plain wood door marked by the numerals 33. Pushing a button next to the door, we announced our arrival to the hostess. Once let inside, we took a small ornate elevator to the paneled dining room. Our five course dinner was spectacular. Each exquisite course was was paired with fine wines from California, Argentina, and Italy. Our dinner stretched to a leisurely two hours. Afterward, with permission from our waiter, we opened a corner glass door to a narrow balcony. Below us, crowds gathered by the water's edge in anticipation of Fantasmic, the classic Disney light show. We had already enjoyed two desserts, one a gift of the chef in recognition of our anniversary. The third dessert, a kiss, was not on the menu, yet it surpassed all the fine fare of Club 33.

Launching Year 33 at Club 33

Today, Stephanie and I begin our 33rd year of marriage. (It's anniversary number 32.) We are headed to Disneyland and California Adventure. No detailed plans, except I want to see the revived Captain EO, with Michael Jackson; Stephanie wants to see the new World of Color. The planned highlight of our day is dinner at the fabled Club 33, a hidden and members-only restaurant in New Orleans Square. Call this a pre-event briefing; I will follow up with an account and wrap-up.

Balboa

The reference is not to the Spanish explorer, but to the dance. Balboa is one form of swing dancing, which also includes the Lindy Hop, Charleston, and Jitterbug. The dances can be used in any combination even during a single song. Balboa is distinct, though, because its movements are minimal and the basic footwork is a shuffling action. Others forms of swing, such as Charleston, are quite vigorous. In Balboa, the dance position is a classic ballroom embrace, but extremely close. With small but precise foot movements, the couple moves gracefully over a tiny area of the dance floor. This is by design; it's an adaptation to the packed dance halls of the 1920s. Because of crowding, the wild swing-outs of Lindy Hop were just not possible; if attempted, they could get dancers kicked out of the hall. Balboa is distinctive in another way: The Lindy Hop and Charleston originated among African Americans on the east coast, but Balboa was invented, probably by white dancers, in the Balboa Peninsula Pavilion, about five miles from where we live. Stephanie and I took a class in introductory Balboa last night. The instructor warned that if couples contacted each other incorrectly it could be creepy. Though our technique was imperfect, I didn't feel that way at all. I hope Stephanie agrees.

Do One More Thing

Life is problem solving, and problems are not solved by the application of sure-fire rules. Instead we have guides that are good bets, but never guarantee success. Psychologists call them heuristics. In chess, one important heuristic is to control the center of the board. The four squares in the center are critical because they offer protected access to the rows, columns, and diagonals that emanate outward. That's chess, though--what about life? In facing the ambiguities and dilemmas of daily life, wisdom is the paramount resource. Expressed in psychological terms, wisdom can be seen as a compilation of heuristics, such as: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and innumerable other good-sense aphorisms. Extraordinary people are sometimes asked to reveal the secrets (i.e. the heuristics) of their success. Sometimes the answer is pedestrian, such as, Make a to-do list. Simply being clear about near-term goals builds a trail of effective work. When asked her secret, a female executive offered: Do one more thing. When you think you have done enough, up the ante just one more chip. Finish an additional item on your list. Such tiny investments, over time, will accumulate. Effectiveness will then build upon itself, just like compound interest.

No Fear

The human soul has a strange tendency to experience creeping anxiety when things are going well. When we are happy—when all feels semi-right with the world—we can sense an almost probabilistic premonition that a downturn looms. The irrational logic is that things are going "too well." But even probabilistically, coin tosses that result in a string of heads do not make tails more likely. When life is good, the best response may be to have no expectation at all about what lies ahead. We simply move forward, knowing that in this imperfect world bad stuff happens, but good stuff happens, too. Both are natural consequences of actions we control, and both can be random. Maybe the ideal answer to the problem of uncertainty is not a cognitive response of expectation, but an emotional response of peace. We are not to live in fear even though dark valleys are part of our experiential geography. When biblical angels appear, their first priority is to calm down the recipients of God's message. "Do not fear," they say pre-emptively. Benedictions commonly call us to serenity before we go on our way. The proclamation No Fear works for surfwear. It's also a good motto to live by.

I Like Spumoni

Until recently, I had no great enthusiasm for spumoni--mainly because I didn't know, really, what spumoni was. Compared to the intensity of Italian gelato, my impression was that spumoni is an overly sweet mixture of soft ice cream more distinguished by unnatural colors than by flavors. I was wrong. For one thing, spumoni traditionally includes pistachio and chocolate, two of my favorite picks. The third is often cherry with bits of fruit mixed in; cherry is also on my short list. Classic spumoni combines my favorites--and I would be hard pressed to choose one I liked most. Now can I possibly compare my daughters to Italian ice cream? Here's a try. Instead of three flavors they come in four--extra variety for extra interest and enjoyment. I love them all because they are distinct, yet of a kind. They blend nicely--each combination of two or three works beautifully. Even a single flavor is a treat. Last night the Hillary flavor flew in from JFK on Jet Blue. It's dessert time. Next Saturday our plan it to sample the San Diego flavors, Kiely and Amy. We may yet enjoy the LKAH grand slam spumoni before the year's end. Wouldn't that be a treat?