When I look back at my varied and checkered life and career, I find that, despite all my complaints, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Well…
Except for that time as a youngster when my dad was enlarging a hole with his power drill and I decided to stick my finger in the other side of the hole.
And except for that time that I went with friends into a construction site, fell and knocked out my front teeth.
And the time I rode my bicycle too fast, slipped and broke my foot.
And the time that I missed out on asking out that good-looking girl in high school because I knew she wouldn’t go out with me only to find out later that she liked me.
And not buying Berkshire-Hathaway stock when it was $50 a share, or Apple when it was $4.
Or not taking that acceptance at an Ivy League college because.. I don’t what idiocy kept me from that one.
Or deciding to change jobs because the offer was too good to be true and, as it turned out, WAS too good to be true.
When we think that one little change would make such a significant difference, we assume that it would be for the better. That shattered finger that kept you from being a concert pianist may, in fact, have kept you from being a miserable concert pianist and prevented you from having the success you did achieve (assuming that you did achieve a modicum of success. If not, it kept you from greater failure.) As George Bailey found out in It’s a Wonderful Life, even one little change has big consequences.
Dean Acheson took the title of his book Present at the Creation from a quote of Alphonso the Wise, a 13th century king of Spain, who said “Had I been present at the creation, I would have given some useful hints for the better ordering of the universe.” I doubt that the Almighty would ask a curmudgeon for useful hints on the better ordering of the universe but it would not be bad to ask for a rewind button.
Just a simple button to make no into yes. Or take a right turn instead of a left.
But who knows what that one little change means. No, no, I’ll leave things just as they are…
…
…
Except for that time as a youngster when my dad was enlarging a hole with his power drill and I decided to stick my finger in the other side of the hole.
And that time that I went with friends into a construction site, fell and knocked out my front teeth.
And the time I rode my bicycle too fast, slipped and broke my foot….
Curmudgeon at Large 
Brilliant blog you grumpy old man, glad I found it, thanks for the laughs and brain food.
Thank you. Be forewarned that a constant diet of my blog as brain food may disintegrate your gray matter.
Interesting blog. I too am I not so closet Curmudgeon at Large. Remember, just because we complain a lot doesn’t mean that there is nothing to complain about. I never missed an opportunity to miss an opportunity. So here I am, heavily into shoulda, woulda, coulda (SWC). Some of the answers lie in introspection. But I have been introspecting (is that a word?) so much lately that I am so far bent over I can only see my navel! Well keeping going on the whining! In the end hopefully it makes us all feel better! I think.
Oh yes, those shoulda coulda woulda but didn’t (or sometimes, did) decisions in one’s own life; decisions I tend to refer to as my “what was I thinking” episodes. But upon reflection, lack of thinking played a more major role with those decisions.
So they are really “What was I NOT thinking?”
Precisely!
Yep … the remind button would change the events, which would lead to an entire new series of events … of which we would hit the rewind button again … then again … then again …. so hey … I’m with you … mistakes and all.
…and then we would need an unrewind button.
Exactly.
Yeah, ain’t it the truth? Yogi Berra said it best: “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”
I just stumbled on one of the best damn books on philosophy and human nature I ever read. It’s Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon. I’m at 55% on my kindle right now. <a href="http://codex.wordpress.org/Function_Reference/comment_link"Take it for what it's worth, which is a lot. You’re welcome.
Thanks for the suggestion. Perhaps others will look at the book as well.
Pretty insightful for a curmudgeon! And a little tender-hearted, too. (I won’t tell anyone.)
Curmudgeons can be insightful but having a heart is questionable.
Yep. I hear you. But since most of my injuries were incurred in the pursuit of fun, I guess I don’t have any cause to complain. And hey, one of my friends shot himself in the leg when he was a kid by putting a Hilti cartridge on concrete and hitting it with a hammer. I can always be thankful I didn’t have that much fun.
I did not add all the self-inflicted “why did I do that?” kid stuff that resulted in even more injuries. Fortunately, I did not try the “stick your tongue on the frozen metal pole” stunt but know someone who did. Bad result.
Um, yeah. Now you know two people who did…
I beth you talkth like thiths for dayths.
So, do you actually have any body parts left?…
Yes, if I can count the ones kept in the freezer and the safe deposit box.
Sure you can!