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, but because 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
- Pair of blue jeans, size 36-29
- Pair of grey or khaki slacks, size 36-29
- Several black long-sleeved T-shirts, size L
- Socks, grey or black cotton
- Cast-iron skillet
- 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
- 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 libertarianism
- 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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