Changing Course

Now that I’ve set up the “daily do-over” to be something I, at least, accept as a common practice, it’s time to pose the question: do do-overs serve any purpose in our lives besides make us look forward to having a stiff drink or getting Alzheimer’s?  Can I honestly say that do-overs collectively, or at least one individually has changed the course of my life for the better?  My first thought is:  of course.  Clearly a lot of situations repeat themselves and having previously reflected on an improved course of action would naturally prepare you to handle that similar situation better (bolder, funnier, kinder etc.) in the future. Though I can’t think of many right off the bat, I do recall an incident involving one of the worst, most misguided moments of my life.  Without going into too much self-incriminating detail, it involved handing a whip and an executioner’s hood from an exotic toy store to a supervisor in front of all my coworkers at a staff meeting.  I can certainty say the incident has cured me of punking or pranking anyone from that day forward. You could argue this is less a do-over than, more precisely, a don’t-ever-do,  you idiot. 

Grateful to be Boring

Like most people I know, I have plenty to be thankful for—too much in fact.  When I think of all the things I’m currently grateful for, it boggles my mind.  But I know that to mention even one of those things would bore you to tears. I’ll bet you’re grateful I didn’t.  

  

As for complaints, I had a few this week:  caught a cold, was weird from taking Advil Cold and Sinus, felt put-upon and crabby a couple days at work and spent too much time grumbling to myself.  The worst was blowing off the chance to meet a friend’s mother who was visiting L.A. from Cleveland last weekend.  Maybe that doesn’t sound too exciting to you, but by failing to make it out with them for lunch or drinks, I ended up disappointing the couple friends involved.  Disappointing friends, especially ones I’m trying to be better friends with, is one of the worst feelings for me these days.  Will there ever be a chance for a do-over on this one?  Not if airfare doesn’t get ridiculously cheap.  

 

This weekend I’m back to being upbeat.  And I won’t say I am but that I should be grateful to be intrinsically boring.  It means I’ve got a list of blessings somewhere that would put you to sleep.

What’s with the daily do-over?

Life is an unscripted, haphazard, fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants experience, but my mind won’t accept this.  Why else does it constantly review and revise things I’ve already said and done?  At least once a day—-maybe a moment, an hour, hours, days—-after a mundane incident, I’m hit with the thought I could have said or done it better.  Better could be bolder, funnier, kinder, wiser, less snotty, more snotty, smarter, more thoughtful, not so self-conscious or impulsive etc.  This is inevitably followed by a detailed assessment of exactly how I’d rewrite history, or in other words: The Daily Do-Over.

 

One recent example is me saying, “lots of love,” to my brother at the end of a long-distance phone call.  I’m not a person who typically says “lots of love.”  To me, it’s a glib phrase bordering on cutesy, if not phony, and using it made me imagine my smart, sarcastic brother blanching.  “I love you” can be a little strong between us, so I’d do better saying, “give my love to Susan and the kids.” 

 

Last week I was having lunch with some coworkers on a business trip in Houston.  As soon as the waiter put down my salad and left, I told them I regretted not ordering the grilled salmon that could have been added on top for four dollars.  Ann, (slender, younger) to my right, offered up some of her chicken-fried steak patty smothered in gelatinous gravy.   I looked over at it and grimaced.  Hello?  Manners?  How about, “thanks for the offer”?   As we’re dividing up the check, I’m mired in my do-over.

 

Another recent incident involved Jay Leno, who was at a car show in the L.A. Valley, strolling past a 20-car line-up of vintage ‘60s Sunbeam Tigers, one of which my husband owns.  “Whatdaya think of the Tigers, Jay?” the woman standing next to me called out to him.  “Terrific,” he said, “I really like Tigers.”  I recalled an interview with him I’d once read in which he named the Tiger as the worst car he ever owned. “But isn’t it the worst car you ever owned?” I thought of shouting out, but didn’t.  Why not?  He did look battle-weary from the Tonight Show melee, but that’s not why I restrained myself.   

 

Do-overs are a fact of my life and maybe they are for you too.  If you’re not a do-over person, you haven’t read this far in my post and are probably out motocrossing.  Hope to get there in my next life.  Right now, I’m tired of keeping do-overs to myself. I want to know what yours are too.