As a teenager, I wanted to be a writer who could write better than Shakespeare.  Why not aim high? Perhaps, one day, someone will do it.

Maybe I was merely terrified to find a “real” job, and writing seemed fun. Also, I could do it without leaving my home. What could be better?

I remember being told that first rule of writing was, “Write what you know.”  I was sixteen. Therefore, I knew just about everything, which really meant that I knew just about nothing. And when you know not and know not that you know not…you won’t write anything of value. I don’t believe, as many do, that shared ignorance has value.

As it turns out, I did become a writer — of (mostly business) emails. Back in 1956, If you’d told me that’s what I’d be spending my days writing, I wouldn’t even have known what an email was.

Early in my law career I received a compliment from the wife of another attorney. She said that I wrote great business letters.  Well, that’s one very practical use for writing.

How do you know when you’ve found your niche in life?  There is no formal system or test you can take to find out.  No one will send you a telegram (do we still have those?) to let you know if you’re even on the right track.

Your life is not like a democracy. It isn’t ruled by “the people.” It’s an autocracy, only one person is making all the decisions.  As far as your own life is concerned you are all three branches of government combined into a single body. This means that you get to plan, execute, and judge your own life.

Good luck with that. Especially the judgmental part. I know that most of us try to do our best all the time, but I give myself, and you, permission to take a rest. Just enjoy your day. Remind yourself what you are looking forward to and then give permission to do it, even if it’s only Trader Joe’s Instant Oatmeal for breakfast.

Time does not crawl. It rushes and leaps. Suddenly I’m 86 and still wondering what I’ll be when I grow up.

Alan

Recently, at a party, I was reintroduced to a hand surgeon who had once been my doctor. The doctor still has a great memory. Though he was about to retire, he hadn’t forgotten me from more than thirty years ago.

“Your left hand, as I recall.”

He was correct. While he had resolved the issue I had with my left hand, there is no accounting for the wear and tear of time, especially when it comes to repetitive motion and old habits.

I’ve mentioned before my penchant for Solitaire. I used to play it on my desktop, but now the solitaire game comes pre-programmed into my iPhone, and I’ve found that I can play it for hours at a time.

The problem is that I always hold my iPhone in my left hand, and use my  right index finger to play the game. But after three or four hours my left hand gets stiff from being in one position for so long.  I believe I’ve previously mentioned in my blog that I can fall down the rabbit hole of Solitaire and easily play it for hours without being aware of how much time has elapsed.

And now, the ball of my left hand has become sensitive to touch.  I’ve tried switching hands, holding the phone in my right hand instead, but my left hand is not as adept, and I would need a lot more practice before I would trust it with something as important as solitaire.

While I love the game, and it is very relaxing, when I lose track of time I fail to start more productive pursuits. As I’ve shared before, I feel that I have to be “productive” almost all of the time. The good news is that means I’m almost always busy. The bad news is that it means I’m almost always busy. My need to be productive cuts both ways.

It certainly cuts into my leisure time, as it doesn’t allow me to play my favorite game guilt-free for unlimited hours. Maybe, my left hand acting up is a sign that I need to rethink how I’m spending my time. I’m seldom into complaining. I prefer to solve problems. Since I know the best way to help my left hand is to give it a rest, perhaps I should turn my attention to something else — like breakfast, which is its own kind of productive.

Happy holiday tomorrow (or today, the day you will be reading this).  I’m planning to celebrate by … to be continued …

Alan

Every morning I face the arduous task of choosing which shirt to wear.  As I gaze into my closet, I ponder my decision.

What to wear?  What to wear?

I like variety, but I’m far too impatient to tolerate shopping for new shirts.  In fact, I last bought new shirts about three years ago when Daveen and I visited a tailor. He took my measurements and sent them to Hong Kong for production.

I need custom shirts that have two pockets — one for my iPhone, and the second for a pen, notes, and whatever. Especially whatever.

Deciding what to wear is one of many choices I make throughout the day.  Each decision is influenced by a variety of factors.  I am conscious of some, but others maybe not. Who knows why I like a particular color, or find a certain fabric more pleasing than others?  Several months ago, a waitress at Art’s deli paused after refilling my water glass to tell me how much she liked my shirt. I rarely receive a compliment on my clothing, and must admit that, since then, I have worn that shirt more often than I otherwise might.

When deciding what to wear, do we dress for ourselves, or for the approval of others?  For me, it’s a combination of both. I want to be socially acceptable, but I also want to express my own taste. Even so, every morning I have the same dilemma — shall I wear my favorite shirt today or save it for tomorrow?

This is why I seldom wear my very best (and by far my most expensive) shirt. It hangs in my closet, saying to me — “Save me for a really important occasion. Today just isn’t important enough.”

When I was young, I remember that a friend’s mother used to serve a mélange of different melons cut into little balls. Some of the melons were sweet, some were not. But I noticed that everyone at the dinner table always saved the sweetest melon balls for last.

So, as we start a new day, the question always is — shall I save my best until … forever? Or should I choose to make today my very best shirt day. And that begins with a choice…

But today, I’ve already decided. Today I’m going to wear my second-best shirt. I’ll save my very best for tomorrow.  And my best shirt is amazing –- it always looks brand new.  Both times I’ve worn it.

Alan