Thy Hybrid Papa

EVERY YEAR, BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY, my sister asks what I would like. My answer is always the same: “I already have everything.” That’s not intended as a self-proclamation of inner nobility, only that I truly am comfortable with what I have — warts, patches, blue skies and all.

Of course … that’s not to say that there aren’t a few things that I could use or would like; their presence would enhance, but their absence does not detract from, my life and by extension that of those around me:

– A working lightsaber, phaser or rubber-band machine gun
– A functional jetpack, hovercraft, or warp-capable spaceship camper
– A pea coat
– Flight lessons (single-engine private)
– A gift certificate for Artscroll, Feldheim, Orion Telescopes or Archie McPhee
– A functioning national health-care system, especially now that my COBRA benefits have run out and I am still undiagnosedly disabled
– A successful diagnosis of and treatment for chronic pain, nausea and dizziness
– Knowledge of and conversation with extraterrestrial sentience
– Or at least the discovery of some sort of extremophilic goo on Europa, or Ganymede, or Titan, or Mars
– A full set of TOS, TNG, DS9, VOY and SW:CW DVDs (if you don’t know what they are, don’t sweat it)
– An implemented solution to the Arab/Israeli conflict
– What the hell, all conflicts
– An end to the militant ignorance in our national discourse
– And the uncivil snark in our civic discourse
– And the attituder-than-thou vacuousness in our popular culture
– More compassion for everyone, by everyone
– Bring the boys (and girls, now war-weary men and women) back home
– Total conversion of the world’s economies to a moneyless but libertarian paradigm
– Some sort of remote-control robot servant, with laser beams, a big cooler and a self-cleaning hibachi.

That’s the view from approaching 48. (Which I will turn at 12:55 a.m., Monday, March 22, 2010. Wheee.)

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