Another Uh-Oh Moment

Think of all the times in your life you realized you made the wrong decision or just didn't think things through. Well, maybe not all of them or we'll be here a while. Just pick a few juicy ones so we can move on.

If we're lucky, those uh-oh moments morph into ah-ha ones and a growth experience ensues. This phenomenon seems to happen frequently to Oprah viewers. The rest of us mortals struggle with the "what was I thinking?" inner monologue. My own recent bout of angst would have put Hamlet to shame.

Good thing we come out the other end with a litany of resolutions. Kind of like New Years Eve but without the champagne and confetti. We promise to keep our own counsel, to be prepared, to look at all sides. But like most resolutions these, too, are fleeting and long forgotten until we find ourselves in another predicament. Then it's back to square one and, like Yogi Berra said, it's deja vu all over again.

My favorite uh-oh moment happened to a matador in Mexico recently. He was in the ring with a charging bull when he -- the matador, not the bull -- realized that he really wasn't cut out for this line of work and ran out of the arena to the jeers of bullfight fans. No word on his change of career but if you're in Mexico City come tax time, I'd probably avoid the CPA in the tight sequined pants. Ole, amigo, ole!

How Many Times To Say 'I Do'?

If I were looking for a husband, I'd consider someone who'd been married once before -- maybe even twice. Making a marriage work isn't always easy and sometimes we make mistakes the first time 'round.

Divorce doesn't carry the stigma it once did, but is there -- or should there be -- a limit to how many times a person can get married? Maybe we could implement a quota system? We each get maximum 3 and if you can't make them work --- well, you probably have more problems than leaving your soiled boxers on the bedroom floor. When the guy tells you he's been married 3-plus times aren't you even a little bit curious why?


It's not just men, either. I read that Elizabeth Taylor might wed again. Granted, I read it in one of the tabloid rags in the dentist's office so feel free to question the veracity. She has been married at least 6 times though. Part of the appeal is the idea of rubbing elbows -- well, more than elbows -- with a celebrity. But in the real world, would a guy be interested in a woman with so much mileage on her marriage odometer?

The quota system would put the kibosh on anyone hording husbands or wives. Think of all the people looking for Mr. or Ms. Right. The system would help spread the love -- and more importantly, put an end to those godawful bachelor/bachelorette reality shows.

When I'm 64...

I've always thought the Beatles "When I'm 64" was a pleasant novelty piece. Not one of their best but certainly fun listening. I was probably 24 when I first heard it and paid little attention to the lyrics then or the numerous times I've heard them since.

Next week I actually turn 64 and the words I once parroted have now become the deep, ponderous quandaries of my life. Will you still need me? Will you still feed me?

Some people stuff themselves with chocolate cake, break out the champagne or bungee jump on their birthday. I opt for the dark side and use it as a reason to analyze my life over the past year. What did I accomplish? What did I learn? And it really wouldn't be a thorough examination without the penetrating question of whether or not I'm happy. Psychoanalysis covers these topics over years of therapy. I try to wrap it up in a few mentally and emotionally frenzied days.

I amble down memory lane, thankful I'm not yet shuffling down it. I pray that any future decrepitude not include a walker with day-glow tennis balls. Wrinkles? Well I'm far from being mistaken for Keith Richards, but I'd agree to a nip/tuck around those sagging jowls. Gravity and my jowls are in constant battle and the "Big G" is proving victorious.

One year closer to becoming an official alter kaker -- cheaper bus rides, movie tickets and, hurrah, senior discounts at Ross.

Happy Birthday to moi!

Birthday Greetings -- From Your ATM

I stopped at the ATM this morning to perform the utterly mechanical task of pressing just the right buttons in just the right order. My reward? A feeling of affluence, albeit temporary, knowing there are a few $20s in my pocket.

I have performed this task hundreds of times. Different ATMs. Same procedure. I don't usually pay close attention to the screens since I don't need a home equity loan nor do I care to transfer any balances. I see the ads but ignore them.

But this morning was different. That home equity/balance transfer screen that I regularly pooh pooh was absent. Instead, the ATM wished me a happy birthday. Well, that got my attention!

I'll admit to cracking a wee smile. I'll also admit to being a tad startled. How do I actually feel about my first birthday greeting of the year coming from an ATM? Do I tell friends who send belated greetings that they've been one-upped by a cash machine! When we talk about personal computers, that isn't what we have in mind

At least it was just a visual. What if the machine had actually said happy birthday? Whoa! Shades of Dave and Hal from "2001, A Space Odyssey".