Survival Instincts

Recently, NPR broadcast a story about a Russian circus whose truck broke down as they traveled Siberia. Faced with brutal cold, the stars of the show did what any sensible mammal would do: they went into hibernation. I should probably mention that the stars of the show were four trained bears.

Now, I don't know about you, but if I were traveling across Siberia and my truck broke down, I'd be a bit freaked out. But of course my human instincts would kick in to save me, and I'd do something humans have been doing since the dawn of man: I'd post to Twitter. "Freezing to death! Nice knowing you!"

Having posted my final Tweet, perhaps more basic survival methods might come in to play. Scientifically speaking, I suppose I would experience the 'fight or flight' response to crisis- you know, that that marvelous surge of adrenaline that you feel just before you stain your shorts.

I have to say, I think I much prefer the bears' approach. Faced with mortal peril, they curled up and took a nap.

The only instinct that is stronger than survival is that of profit. Thus, feeling the 'show must go on' reflex, circus officials tried to wake the bears by the most brutal and aggressive means possible: they served them strong tea and chocolate.

Let us recap: Faced with crisis, key players responded by sleeping and their constituents showered them with sweets.

It's enough to make you want to join the circus. Or maybe Congress.

tlc

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas 2010

Some of you have inquired why there was no Christmas letter last year.

Frankly, it’s because we don’t like you.

No. Not really. We skipped the letter for the same reason that most people do: We went sledding right before Christmas. Sledding ordinarily involves snow, hot chocolate, and frostbite. Less typically it involves three broken ribs and a punctured lung.

Here are some things I learned from my hospital stay:

• Breathing is “not medically necessary” according to insurers.
• Hospitals accept all major credit cards. They do not, however, allow you to barter chickens- unless you are campaigning for the Senate.
• Nurses tell you to rest and then proceed to wake you up every hour. This is meant to remind you of your children in case you get homesick.

But I digress. The real reason for this missive is not to bore you with details of my sledding drama (too late!) but instead to bore you with Cummins trivia from 2010. Here are the highlights:

Tim started his own media sales company, thus trading Metro North for a home office. The words “home office” come from the Latin “homo officious” meaning, “annoyingly interruptive wife and children.” Within two months he rented space in the City and returned to commuting.

One of the benefits of owning your own business is inventing new national holidays, such as “Opening Day,” which is celebrated by drinking beer and guessing when in the season the Mets will collapse.

Thanks to Tim’s business we have a new family member, Bill The Accountant. Bill and I spend many hours discussing the finer nuances of the tax code:

Tara: “Is dog food a legitimate business expense?”

Bill: “Only if you want to go to jail.”

In September Steve Jobs stopped by to thank Tim for single-handedly contributing to the soaring value of Apple stock. We have more igadets than can possibly be healthy. I enjoy Angry Birds as much as the next guy but until someone comes up with an “ilaundry” app my app-reciation remains limited.

What Tim could design is the “iDad” app because he’s really good at it. He is fostering humor and a sense of civility in the children. This is a nice foil to my banshee screaming. We make a great team.

Patrick is an athlete and a scholar in his own, inimitable 8-year old way. He has dirty fingernails, wears Converse sneakers, and is constantly laughing. Somewhere between the fart jokes and the tushy dancing, he has moments of brilliance. In the interim, you will find him eating, talking, or playing sports.

Mademoiselle Maggie is a beam of sunshine and an avid reader. This is wonderful for her literacy, but tends to hinder productivity. One cannot effectively lace one’s sneakers whilst turning the pages of a tween novel. She sits perched on the edge of adolescence, as is evidenced by occasional eye rolling and heavy sighing. As we near that abyss, I will savor my sweet 10-year old girl who loves animals, BFF’s, sleepovers, and soccer.

I run a book group for both kids and do some cooking for a shelter but my civic volunteerism ends there. Tim has taken up the mantle of boards, committees and assistant coaching. I’ve opted to chair the Cummins Household Committee.

I remain a Knowledge Manager for Integro, which means I do a lot of research and writing, and some geeky data stuff. Having long ago embraced my inner geek, I’m quite content with it.

2010 was a sobering year, between the economy and the vagaries that come with middle-aged suburbia. In a world that feels increasingly fractured and fragile, the bonds of family and friends are precious. We are grateful to count you among our blessings.

I wish you all apologetically belated tidings for the holidays. Peace, love, and joy be yours for 2011.

tlc