Wicked Grateful

Years ago I made the decision to give up the adolescent dream of fame and fortune and settle for yuppie comfort. Of course that comfort isn't as easily as sustained as it appears, but I can tell you for a fact that a steady pay check and health insurance beat fruitlessly auditioning four times a week and a steady diet of rejection. And I struggle to balance the undeniable ease of my life with the inevitable petty frustrations that accompany a comfortable middle-class existence. In my darker moments, when I'm feeling unappreciated or inconvenienced, I forget to be grateful.

Today I was supposed to have installed a new sink and toilet. The plumber had been here six weeks ago and I had specifically asked what would be needed for the project and if there were any special considerations I needed to be aware of. There weren't, so off I went to Home Depot and spent more money at one time than I am comfortable with. The supplies were delivered weeks ago.

The first problem was the realization that the shower fixtures would not fit. This meant no pretty shower. I weathered that disappointment valiantly. The second frustration came when the plumber announced that he did not have all the tubing he needed. So, $50 in cab fare later, I had purchased the little plastic tubes he needed, only to be told that not only were the tubes I brought the wrong ones, but he had the right ones in his truck all along. I smiled.

There were minor difficulties in removing the old toilet and sink, and some slightly more significant problems installing the toilet. I'm not convinced that the tank should wobble the way that it does, but it's operational and at this point that's all I can ask. I don't even mind that only after the installation did I realize they sent the wrong toilet bowl, and the seat doesn't fit.

The meltdown came when we realized that the pedestal and the sink did not fit each other. When I called I was told that happens sometimes, and that they could have a matching set to me sometime next week.

That's when I had my meltdown. At $150 an hour, I really wanted to have my bathroom finished. I spoke with two managers at Home Depot who, frankly, handled my frustration brilliantly. I had to dismiss the plumber, but the matching pedestal and sink are at least in my home. I have to come home early on Monday so that the plumber can finish the job. There are going to be more problems -- pedestal and drain placement and the mystery of the pipes behind the wall in the relation to where new holes have to be drilled for the brackets that will hold the sink. I have demanded that Home Depot give me a credit for the cost of the sink. They said they would talk about compensation for my difficulties once the project was completed. Since I've pre-ordered kitchen floor supplies and a new refrigerator and stove, I think I'll get what I want.

As I write this I am listening to the cast album for Wicked. We're singing one of the songs in our upcoming concert. The songs from the show are very pretty, but I can't get a sense of the plot from the recording. Essentially, I believe its the story of the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. Very touching music.

And as I sit in my comfortable home, worrying about installing a sink, typing on my computer and listening to music, I realize just how small my frustrations of the day have been. No one I love is dead. I have food I really do not need in the kitchen. I'm warm and I'm not worried about being blown to bits at any moment. Socially, the only real issue I face is that someone might be rude to me because they wonder what I might do with my genitals. Oh, the horror.

How do you make any of it have any meaning? And if you do, what's the point and who cares? The best I can do is propose a possible answer to the first question. Meaning comes through gratitude and humility. Perhaps the point is finding someone and making their world such that such small issues as dripping drains and losing those last five pounds are their biggest worries. Finding someone who at the end of it all you can say, "Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you I have been changed for good."