Making Lemonade

I admire my dad. He's a cool dude. He was down here in January with my mom and took this photo. I suggest you peruse what else he has on this site, because the man's got some skills. It will probably also motivate you to get out of whatever ugly place you find yourself in and head for the hills. Or the desert. Or the coast. Today, though, I'd like to dwell on this particular shot. We were on our way back to San Juan from a trip around Mexico, and we were trying to make it back to Lake Chapala for some sunset shots. We were rushing and wouldn't have made it at all had I been driving instead of Hernan. Let's hear it for Mexican driving and passing on blind curves.

So, we made it to Ajijic, barely, and my dad took this shot. As I remember it, we were right next to a sewage treatment plant and there were all kinds of trash in the water. But you don't see any of that here. Instead, it looks quite lovely.

Besides giving my dad his propers, I wanted to write about this for another reason. For years I've been annoyed by happy, perky people. Shouldn't we be suspicious of such unwarranted exuberance? A recent study, as reported by the BBC, supports my gut feeling that miserable, gloomy individuals are maybe also more astute, or better at certain thinking tasks anyway. I couldn't find the paper online, but it's called "Think Negative!" and it's by Forgas. Here's something else you can read about it to see why now that I'm an optimist I'll make for a crappy writer and also why all you managers should make your manatees miserable. And, yes, I did just say "manatees".) Think about it this way, you must have missed something if you're that happy. You must not have been paying enough attention. If you had been, you would wipe that perky, contended smile off your face and start bitching and moaning about the sewage and the rubbish. You'd be thinking about pesticides, unregulated dumping, chemical runoff, and the poor, mutated fish.

Or maybe not. So, let me explain how this relates to this pretty photograph. It's not that all the rest of those things aren't important, but maybe they're important too. See how I made that word blue so it would stand out? Good. That is to say, the garbage and all is important, but so is appreciating a beautiful moment. The good things are also important.

There. Did I just blow your mind a little? If you're one of those happy, perky people, then probably not.

So, maybe not all optimists are insufferably perky dim-wits. And maybe not all critics do themselves a favor by focusing on their critiques. And in the end, criticism is useful, but sometimes it gets old. After all, one has to bitch and moan creatively if one wants to make a career out of it, and most of us moaners aren't half as talented as we need to be.

So I could say I gave up my friends, my career, my lifestyle, everything to end up living with my in-laws in poverty in an un-finished house surrounded by rats and cockroaches and dirt and raw sewage, and a highway, and no butter in sight. But, obviously, I'm living with my man-candy husband and am getting to better know his wonderful family, and I spend every day with my beautiful son, and I get to take one day at a time and shake things up and experience some new things. And have I ever mentioned the chilaquiles my mom-in-law makes? They're excellent. It's all perspective. Silver-colored glasses and rose lining and all that. It's whether you include the garbage in the photograph or not.

So I'm remaking myself into an optimist. I should be a great candidate, because Americans make such good optimists. You ever want to meet a pessimist, go to Hungary. Budapest has been conquered by pretty much everyone and their brother Béla. You ask a Hungarian how things'll turn out and you're not likely to hear roses. (What does a rose sound like, anyway? Maybe a chirping sound?) Of course, Hungary has boasted a great many artists and intellectuals, so maybe that backs up the study I mentioned earlier. But optimists supposedly live longer (see this article about a recent study and for a photographic example of an annoying perky person) and Hungary has boasted the highest suicide rate in the world for many years over the last century. (Yes, Hungarians did actually boast of this to me. A few even seemed miffed that they'd come in second to some other country that year. Denmark? Finland? The internet also tells you so. Hungarian Suicide Prevention Project. And if someone randomly finds this blog through some kind of internet search - Don't kill yourself.)

So why am I rambling about photographs and roses and Hungarians? It's because I'm an optimist now. I'm going to join the ranks of the perky (coffee, please) and keep on the sunny side of life. This is, of course, mostly a lie, because I'm sure I'll continue to bitch and moan. It's a habit I won't soon shake. But, I'm all for living it up here in sunny San Juan.

Or something.