And it was only Baskin-Robbins. Imagine if it were Graeter’s Black Raspberry and Chocolate Chip! Off the charts.
As we age we still find joyful experiences in food and drink. If not, why would anyone pay hundreds of dollars for a bottle of wine? Or $400 for a shot of Macallan’s scotch from a bottle that The Kitchen Restaurant in Sacramento paid $15,000? Not me, but I have been willing to pay dearly for the three-course anniversary meal at Gary Danko in San Francisco, and the $165 six course dinner at the aforementioned “Kitchen.”
And you don’t have to pay exorbitant prices for food-induced joy. The first bite of a Double-Double at In N’ Out, a fresh Pistachio. the fish stew I was served at a cafe in Seward Alaska, the buttermilk pancakes at the Cowboy Cafe in Rawlins, Wyoming, an el pastor burrito from Ausencio’s taco truck, a bite of any Diamond slice pizza, sushi at Sushi Sho, prepared in front of your eyes with instructions on how to eat it from the chef…
They aren’t this big.
…a Top Dog hot dog, the fries at Big Al’s, a #39 at Huong Tra (bun), pho on a cold day, (add a + if it’s raining), the lamb at Delhi diner (it arrives on a sizzling platter), Korean chicken wings at Bopshop…the list is endless…as are the extra pounds corporeally incarcerated by the joy of eating.
Another joy.
The Atlanta Braves after the final out of the 2021 World Series.
Vince Lombardi said, “Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.” Baseball players long for the joy of winning,—not just the game, not just the Series, but after 162 games and endless playoffs, getting into the World Series, then winning it. And of course, this holds true in all sports—whether it’s the fastest time, the highest leap, the farthest throw, the heaviest weight, the green jacket, the 300 game— joy follows. But the joy of playing is as valuable as the joy of winning. You don’t have to win to experience joy. My very competitive seven year old grandson said that he’d rather not get to play if his teammates would more likely win if he sat on the bench. He’s seven. There’s time. My daughter was a junior high cheerleader, carrying pom-poms and screaming for others before she suddenly realized that cheering for others wasn’t where it’s at. She started running and hasn’t stopped.
Joy accompanies success of any kind—raising a B+ to an A-, a raise in pay, passing a driver’s test, a new job, a negative Covid test, an eagle on a par 5; the applause of the audience, no falls on a black diamond run.
Joy in Nature
Joy is the emergence of pink dogwood flowers, the breeze after the smoke has cleared, the setting of the sun in mid-December smack-dab in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge and the palette of colors left behind, the pounding of the waves on the beach at Asilomar, the flying V of pelicans heading towards Big Sur, the welcome sound of raindrops on our skylights, the reappearance of the Anna’s hummingbird, (missed all winter), the moment the rain turns to snow. And for me, capturing the osprey landing in its nest as the Cape Cod sunrise illuminates the wings. An English writer once defined nature as “a damp sort of place where birds fly around uncooked.” Funny, yes. True, no,
An uncooked bird
Point Lobos
Happiness vs. Joy
David Brooks, in his book The Second Mountain, defines all of the above as happiness, not joy. And he adds, there’s nothing wrong with happiness. But he writes,
“What’s the difference? Happiness involves a victory for the self, an expansion of self. Happiness comes as we move toward our goals, when things go our way. You get a big promotion. You graduate from college. Your team wins the Super Bowl. You have a delicious meal. Happiness often has to do with some success, some new ability, or some heightened sensual pleasure. Joy tends to involve some transcendence of self. It’s when the skin barrier between you and some other person or entity fades away and you feel fused together. Joy is present when mother and baby are gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes, when a hiker is overwhelmed by beauty in the woods and feels at one with nature, when a gaggle of friends are dancing deliriously in unison. Joy often involves self-forgetting. Happiness is what we aim for on the first mountain. Joy is a by-product of living on the second mountain.”
Self-forgetting is the issue here. I was serving breakfast to Zoom Bunny at the Men’s shelter in Berkeley. He asked, “Do you do this because you genuinely feel compassion for us, the homeless, or because it makes you feel good?” “A little of both,” I answered, amazed at the wisdom in the question. Then he asked, “And how much are you paid by the CIA?” I smiled. He moved on.
In evaluating what it is that brings us real joy we have to look at the self-forgetting part. I would feel an absence if I weren’t serving breakfast or delivering groceries. Because of Covid I miss driving for Meals on Wheels. After Cecile died and her house sold I no longer cut her lawn. I”m not writing this to gather compliments; I’m simply identifying the sources I mine to find the joy, most of which is in being of service. I also feel joy when my kids succeed at anything—when Jennifer was chosen as the boss, John wins a case, or Jason’s novel is published, and it’s multiplied for my grandchildren, too. Kim described the joy Lilly felt on her recent tenth birthday, “running through the house, hanging streamers.” The same goes for friends, too. It’s an inexplicable pleasure that accompanies even minor successes—Larry Johnson’s slow determined recovery from cancer and pneumonia, a friend’s recent appearance in a play and trip to Mexico—incorporating the joy of others into one’s own life.
I feel joy in just being married to Jadyne, the greatest joy of all.
