One Person's Clutter Is the Next Person's Treasure

There’s lots of talk, and gnashing of teeth, no doubt, about clutter (http://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/16/opinion/the-clutter-cures-illusory-joy.html?ref=opinion). Every so often—not as often as Gilda would like, more often than I can calmly take—the woman I live with feels compelled to lighten our load. No matter how attached I might be to an object she’s determined to make room.

Our most recent bout was over a wood cutting board. Admittedly, neither of us had used the slab, in say, more than a decade, since we redid our kitchen. But I still saw value in it. Some background: I prefer thin boards sized about 8x10 inches. Gilda favors a mix of thicker boards, large and small. The board in question matched my preference. I reluctantly permitted it to be removed from the cutting board drawer last evening. I could not find it this morning. I thought she had surreptitiously thrown it out. Later today she confessed to stashing it near the microwave.

I admit, I’m a pack rat. Objects stay in my closet long after their useful life has passed. I’ve got numerous suits, sports jackets and dress pants hanging in my closets (note the plural, not on suits, for goodness sake, but on closets necessary to store my wardrobe) despite the fact that since I retired nearly six years ago I have worn a suit or sports jacket but a few times a year. I can’t explain why I keep them. It’s not as if I am preserving them for my next job.

I’ve got stuff in the attic waiting for my kids and their spouses to come around to my taste in home furnishings. Ha!

Most hard liquor doesn’t spoil. Good thing. Inside our liquor cabinet is a bottle of gin left over from Dan’s bris party 36 years ago!

Gilda and I try to adhere to the buy one-dump one strategy. We are somewhat successful, gauging from the charity deduction we take each year. But proper hoarding, neatly packed and labeled stuff, can be an asset.

Take Legos, for example. We packed up Dan’s Legos in his early teens. They slumbered (I’m using a humanizing verb because of all the small Lego people stored away, people who are now worth quite a bit more than when we bought them some 25-30 years ago). They were hibernating in the attic until a year ago when Finley was old enough to appreciate the saved and now resuscitated treasure trove of people and interlocking pieces. Legos have supplanted a riding front loader as the first toy he runs to when he visits.

French Toast from Generation to Generation

Of all the comfort foods in the world, French toast has to rank among the best. Not so much for its taste, though I do like it, but because it's a food often made on weekends by dads and granddads.

A last minute visit by Dan, Allison, Finley and Dagny gave me the opportunity to exhibit the culinary skill passed down by my father. He rarely made an appearance in my mother’s kitchen in Brooklyn. He never cleaned the dishes or the pots and pans, though he did don jeans instead of his usual dress pants to lie on the floor to fix the dishwasher when it went on the fritz.

Other than French toast, his cooking—better to call it, food preparation—was confined to peeling an apple or slicing a pear for his three children. But he did make good French toast. Challah French toast, made from leftover Friday night sectional challah.

Cooking French toast has made its way down to another generation. Dan cooks it for his family, and after seeing his dad and grandpa do it I hope we are planting the seed of continuity inside Finley.

Finley already has experience with generational continuity. Gilda and I saved many of our children's toys including lots of Legos and construction trucks, one of which is a giant crane. For more than a year we made it a point to show Finley a picture hanging on our family room wall, a picture of young Dan playing with the crane just as Finley now does. Soon, Gilda will hang next to it a picture of Finley playing with the crane.

The Legos, of course, are as much fun for Dan to play with again as they are for Finley to explore. But it's the books we kept that really choke Gilda and me up. Seeing and hearing Dan read to Finley books he loved, like “There's No Such Thing as a Dragon” or “Sylvester and the Magic Pebble,” is beyond priceless.

To assure there will be enough bread for French toast on Saturday or Sunday morning I always buy two challahs when I know the kids are staying the weekend. I can't say I include any secret ingredient in the batter. Just eggs, milk and vanilla extract. My dad didn't include vanilla extract and neither did I until Ellie made it that way during a recent family get-together at Dan’s house.

Finley and Dagny like to dip their French toast pieces into maple syrup sitting in a monkey dish. I drip sugar-free syrup onto my slices. Dan only uses real maple syrup. 

Let the Gift-Giving Begin

With the lighting of the first Hanukkah candle tonight, the annual gift-giving holiday season officially begins, not to end until Kwanza arrives one day after Christmas. Our material world seemingly knows no bounds.

I’m no innocent in this gorgefest of trinkets, toys and trifles. I have a primal need to acquire, though I must say that since retirement I have vastly curtailed my personal material gluttony. I used to enjoy visiting stores not just because it was part of my job but also because I would go on a quest to find something to indulge my desires. Now I mostly relieve my bank account of extra cash by buying “stuff” for our kids and their mates, our grandchildren, grand nieces and grand nephews. 

We overindulge Finley and Dagny, buying eight days’ worth of presents for each for Hanukkah. To be honest, it’s a lot easier choosing presents—clothing aside— for four-year-old Finley than 17-month-old Dagny. Aside from buying for the second child who already has access to Finley’s stash of goods, it’s tough tiptoeing through the minefield of gender neutrality when it comes to toys for a young girl. 

If you haven't been following it, most recently spurred by Goldieblox’s controversial use of a parody of the Beastie Boys song “Girls” (http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/11/27/toy-company-pulls-beastie-boys-song-from-viral-video/), there's been quite a lively discussion on gender neutrality when raising a child. It's part of the overall debate on whether environment or heredity has more sway in a child's development. Last December, The NY Times ran an Op-Ed piece on gender-based toy marketing (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/23/opinion/sunday/gender-based-toy-marketing-returns.html?_r=0), followed by an interesting Letter to the Editor from a woman from Tarpon Springs, FL, which I will reproduce here: 

“I once thought that biological gender preferences were ‘ridiculous’ until I raised a girl and a boy born in 1983 and 1990, respectively. I raised my children — to the best of my feminist knowledge — without stereotypes and with a minimum of television.        

“But as a toddler, my daughter would mostly ignore the cars and trucks and spend hours with the dolls, while my son, seven years later, would discard within minutes his sister’s leftover dolls and find the cars and trucks — and most disconcertingly, form a gun with his pointer and thumb and shoot at things. His drive for toy guns, swords and light sabers knew no bounds, yet he has always been sweet and gentle.        

“The fact that toy marketers tap into biological preferences does not necessarily mean that we are being pushed back into an ‘unequal past’ or homophobia or ‘gender conformity.’

Our experience in raising Ellie parallels the author’s. Gilda was determined to avoid imprinting any feminist mystique into Ellie’s brain. She’d be raised as gender neutral as we could. No Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty stories for her, nothing to suggest that it would take a Prince Charming to fulfill her destiny. Ellie could play with any of her older brother’s toys, be they trucks or blocks, balls or Legos. She would not be given dolls, for sure no Barbies. 

Ellie did play with Dan’s toys, but it was obvious to Gilda’s friends she lacked a certain joie de vivre. At Ellie’s third birthday they took matters into their own hands, bestowing on her a torrent of dolls and frilly accessories. Ellie immediately transformed into a happy princess.   

A Mix of Messages

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. For most of my professional life I worked this day. It was not included in the 10 authorized holidays my employer observed. It did not share the status of Memorial Day, or the Fourth of July, or even the day after Thanksgiving.

Until, that is, a new vice president of human resources joined our company from Time Warner. She revised the holiday schedule to include MLK Day (unfortunately, the National Retail Federation annual convention usually fell on that day so I had to work, anyhow). As soon as she left the company, MLK Day reverted to its prior status as an official day of work.

Who says one person can’t make a difference? If you haven’t figured it out by now, the VP HR was Afro-American.


Revised Opinion: One month ago I labeled the Boston Red Sox as the team to beat in the American League East. That was even if the NY Yankees could sign Cliff Lee. Of course, they didn’t, so the outlook appeared even bleaker for the boys in pinstripes.

But I’m revising my sense of doom and gloom in light of the Yankees signing of Rafael Soriano, the relief pitching specialist. There’ve been reports he could cause some locker room problems, but his former pitching coach with the Tampa Bay Rays discounts them (http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/baseball/yankees/2011/01/16/2011-01-16_rafael_soriano_was_a_good_signing_by_the_yankees_says_tampa_bay_rays_pitching_co.html ). I’m also hoping that under the soothing influence of Mariano Rivera, Soriano will find a kindred soul (both are very religious) and contribute mightily to making the Yankee bullpen the best in the business.

Last year, Soriano recorded 45 saves in 48 attempts. The Yankees plan to pitch him in the eighth inning and leave the ninth to Rivera. Rivera had 33 saves in 38 opportunities last season. In effect, the tandem make a typical nine inning game into a seven inning contest, assuming the Yankees are ahead. Last year the Bronx Bombers led the major leagues in runs scored, so there’s every confidence they can place many a game in the capable hands of the bullpen masters to protect a lead and win.

Naysayers may point to the Achilles Heel of the ball club, the starting pitching. To get to Soriano-Rivera, the starters and middle relievers will have to limit scoring by the opposition. I’m hopeful they’ll be able to do that.

What else am I going to say?


Nature or Nurture: 14-month-old Finley’s been taking advantage of his mobility on two legs, enjoying walking around children’s museums, especially those with a play kitchen set-up. His mom has told us to keep a sharp eye out for kiddie stoves. As a tag sale devotee, I couldn’t wait for Spring.

Lo and behold, while replacing batteries in the smoke detectors in the attic this morning, I found a Care Bears stove/top burner/sink with lots of dishes and utensils. After more than 20 years of accumulated dust from the last time Ellie played with it is cleaned off, the toy kitchen will be ready for Finley. Of course, there are some who might cringe at this less than manly interest by the young fellow, Iron Chefs notwithstanding. But it made Gilda recall a lesson she learned about what’s more dominant in raising a child, nature vs. nurture.

Not wanting to typecast our daughter with just girlie interests, Gilda decided Ellie would play with generic toys as a toddler. Blocks. Legos. Balls. Cars and trucks. Stuffed animals. Nothing feminine. No dolls.

Ellie was a contented child, but not very enthusiastic. Finally, for Ellie’s third birthday, Gilda’s friends could take it no more. They gave Ellie several dolls and other “gender appropriate” gifts, including a baby doll stroller and the aforementioned Care Bears kitchen set. She immediately radiated excitement, took the presents to her room and played with them for hours.

So much for trying to control development. No one who knows Ellie today would suggest she is anything but feminine. She’s not into organized sports, though she enjoys camping, hiking, mountain climbing, canoeing and other “manly” activities. For Ellie, nature most assuredly won out.