Listmania!

December 10, 2007

Filed in: The Home Front, The Way We Live Now

1). Like every other publication this time of year, the New York Times is full of lists (stories, as T and I like to say, that write themselves, leaving busy reporters free to shop and cook and decorate like the rest of us).

I have to confess, my heart was in my mouth when I saw The 53 Places to Go in 2008 splashed across the front of the travel section. I could barely look through the list. What if someone stole my idea? My places?

This is just silly, I know. What, nobody’s been to Alaska before me and written about it? Suddenly nobody wants to go to Hawaii? But still, I can’t help it. Part of being a writer is being at least a teensy bit competitive.

So yes, I admit it, I would have been crushed if they’d run a little blurb on “the coolest places in North Dakota to hang out with your girlfriend,” or “the most tranquil place in Kansas to make peace with your aging self and your contentious world.”

Fortunately (maybe because nobody wants to read those stories? Gosh, I hope not . . . ) they did not mention in any way Kansas or N.D. They did write about Detroit, which can be considered dangerously close when you take into account most of the other places were, like, the Maldives or Hvar. And there was one bitsy mention of Kenai Fjords National Park in AK, but that was in a sidebar, so it doesn’t count.

So heh. My secret is safe with me, for now at least. Carry on without me, world travelers.

2). Separately, I was thrilled to see that we own not just one but two of The 10 Best Books of 2007. I say this not to be smug, but to be amazed, because many, many years, we not only haven’t read any Top 10s, we’ve never even heard of them.

This year, for whatever reason, people in my household have read both Then We Came to the End and The Rest Is Noise. Of course, none of those readers was me, but…it counts toward our family quota, doesn’t it?

3. Getting a haircut Saturday morning, the girl washing my hair said, “Finished your Christmas shopping yet?” Unnnnnh! I hate this question. Why couldn’t she have said, “Cold enough for you?” or “Let me tell you about the dream I had last night.” Anything but the dreaded shopping question.

What with my touch of agoraphobia and my antipathy toward stuff in general, I am not in any way a perfectionist about gifting (just poll my giftees if you doubt this). But still, I want to give things that the people I love will really, really treasure and really, really use. Or at least use up. This is harder than it sounds.

All month in the back of my mind, I’m asking myself, “What is X’s innermost desire? What is Y’s true state of happiness?” These questions are thorny enough for the people you see every day. Apply them to loved ones far away—like, say, college-aged cousins on the other side of the country—and you could well be on the way to driving yourself crazy.

Also, not to get all Charlie Brown here, but this line of questioning has the curious effect of making me feel just a twinge lonely. Can any of us really know the secret heart of another, even of the people we love most in this world? 

So that’s where I’m at with the old Christmas list. You shouldn’t have asked!

Update: Reader/writer/Brain,Child contributor L responded to my plaintive (okay, whiny) question on “whether we can ever know the secret heart of another” by sending me an early Christmas present, a quote from Willa Cather:

“The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one’s own.” (The Professor’s House)

Willa’s always spot on, isn’t she? Next year, I’m taking her to the mall with me. In the meantime, a vow to read/re-read more Cather in ‘08. Anyone care to join me?