When were you last asked a question with that lead in? Me neither.

It's okay. After all, it's really quite a burden, don't you think, to have an individual (or a roomful of people) hanging, listening rapturously, attentively, with bated breath to what you have to profess. That's because you know that this very same individual, (or audience) is laying in wait ready to pounce on you when what you professed proved wrong.

Which is why I am such a devotee of NPR. 

Their guests are usually the arbiters of what we should be thinking about, doing, practicing. Today's interviewees, sometime in the not so distant future, morph into the defenders of why we erred, doing what we did, even if it was exactly what they said we should do. Mea Culpa? Hardly.

For example, Wall Street Chiefs Defend Compensation at Firms.  Jamie Dimon, Chief Executive of JPMorgan Chase & Co., when asked "if you knew then what you do now, what would you have done differently?" Dimon's response was "a crucial blunder was how we missed that housing prices don't go up forever."  That's his expert opinion? Of course, in his zip code the housing prices do go up, forever.

So what to do? 

Not listen to Dr. Phil, Rachel Ray, Dr Oz, all borne from the expert of experts, Oprah? Tune Martha out? Eat Special K, fiber cookies, once a day, week, or simply never eat again? Date younger, older, richer, make that richer and on their last legs people? Admit it, haven't you asked the bored senseless salesperson what they think of the pants/blouse/shoes/jacket you are trying on? You did, didn't you?

The pronouncements of experts. The buck stops here. The only way to think. The final word.

Want my opinion?

                                                A  SONG  FOR YOU

If you could write something down, put it into a shredder then bid goodbye and good riddance, what would your ta-ta look like? 

The name of the heartbreaker who broke your heart? Your IRA? A woulda coulda shoulda didn't happen love connection? A number on the scale? 

See ya, bye bye, don't come back, never again. Done.

Of course you would, if you thought it would work. But you, like me I suspect, probably know that you have little, if any, control over your resolve. 

Is an intervention in order?

I've never quite understood the once a year resolution concept. It seems to me that I resolve to change my behavior on a daily basis. Therein, perhaps, is the error of my ways. Perhaps a "once a year" expunging would, like a trek to Mecca, work its magic. 

Or not. 

Except for Election Day. We did, after all, make George W and Dick Cheney go away. Didn't we? Good riddance.

 Just the other day, a very dear friend announced to me "I've put on about 15 lbs." She continued to explain, "it's because of a feature film that I'm in." 

Now, this would have been sensible to me if she were an actress. 

I let it go. 

Then there is the person, barely an acquaintance, let alone a friend, who brazenly and without any hesitation, offers you deep insights into your psyche. You know that the closest they have come to understanding behavior was getting their dog to roll over. Nonetheless, they are quite certain, if not convincing that they know precisely and exactly how you should be behaving in your interpersonal relationships. And you listen. 

I'm thinking that maybe I should try some altered state of consciousness.

I have often thought that if at a cocktail party, for example, if I could strike a slightly mysterious, slightly bored, somewhat aloof countenance I would definitely be more compelling and alluring.  I am certain this is what you have to do. For me, alas, this posture lasts for 30 seconds, when I find myself elbowing others out of the way as the tray of those little pigs in the blanket are coming out of the kitchen. Besides, I am really certain you have to be over 5'10'' and have straight blond hair to effect that maneuver.

I'll have to work on this.

The karaoke singer unabashedly belts out a tune, the comedian wanna be is there at open mike night, The Donald thinks he is one sexy beast and his matings have nothing to do with real estate holdings. 

Are all of the above a happier lot? Except for The Donald, I suspect so. If their current reality isn't working, they simply and easily create and slide into another one. 

Yeah, I'm going to work on this. 

A concept immortalized by Erica Jong in her book of the same name, where she literally and figuratively fights the two forces of those fears. 

I have not had that good fortune. Okay, maybe one for two…Refer to her book, if you care to, for the other fear.

My fear of flying, while not totally debilitating (I will get on a winged vehicle) does have me seeking out various and assorted balms to steel my nerves, or render me close enough to a somnambulist state to have me only vaguely aware of where I am and what I am doing. 

My preferred choice of seats, when I can swing it, is in first class. I will use my frequent flyer miles, any upgrade possible or simply pleading to score those seats. It is my contention that if I think I am sitting on a bus and have no visual of the hundreds of people behind the curtain (I know this is definitively not Oz) it will be okay. If I can't snare those seats, I simply up the balm ante.

Thus, I will never be a participant in the 'domain of exclusivity' for members of any Airline Flyers Elite Club. All this hype probably went down just a notch when an American Airline plane did a belly slide past home plate in Jamaica (like in the Island, Jamaica) this week. Delighted, by the way, to report there were no serious injuries).  

I do hear tell that the airlines are considering a "Frequent Philanderer Club" to accomodate the politicos, athletes, and Hollywood star and starlets, for which they get double bonus points.

As for me, my Costco membership is sufficient. 

Guilt.

Each and every day during the holiday season we all retrieve our mail and amongst notices, bills and the random menu that slipped through undetected by the menu police, we find a myriad of holiday cards wishing us happy and healthy tidings. 

I, for one, ooh and aah over the sentiments, or the pictures of the family, or try to remember who the one person might be who also sent me cheers and good tidings of health and happiness, and I have no idea who they might be. 

I dutifully display them on my breakfront, gaze at them over the holiday season and even have known to save them.

Guilt.

 I, for one, haven't sent out a holiday card in forever. Do I not wish good tidings?  Good cheer? Peace on Earth?

In my mind I do. In my heart I do.  Addressing envelops and writing something meaningful, not so much.

So, I am here, right now, at this very moment to tell you that I hired this fellow to help me out here. Not as good humored as I would have liked, but he assures me that it will be done.

In case it somehow gets lost in the sea of other wishes for a Merry Christmas you now know that I was thinking of you.

Merry and Happy.

Chatting with an acquaintance today they indicated that they heard, read, understood that Tiger (clearly, no last name required) had, at last count, at least eleven women since he "took his vows" as a married man. Tsk, tsk they added.

"That's all?" I said. "Seems to me, with the amount of time he spent on the road, that is a pretty paltry number"

But who's counting?

Apparently, everyone.

There is an amazing amount of prurient interest in who is doing what with whom.

I, for one, subscribe to Henry Kissenger's point of view. "Power is an aphrodisiac."  Need I enumerate who should be included in this list of "the fallen"….I suspect not…but fall they did. For a minute.Then they were forgiven, and championed, once again, as the elected official or athlete of yore.

Do we forgive the transgressions?

Apparently we do. Bill is on a global mission, Eliot is teaching, Kobe is scoring baskets…to name, but a few.

Why do we turn the other cheek? Damned if I know. But we do.

So, I suspect, in time we will forgive Tiger his indiscretions. We will reelect the indiscreet official and champion the errant athlete. Shrug our shoulders and renounce our moral convictions.

Is it because we are all a heartbeat away from an indiscretion? Is it because we understand the draw of the moment of touching "fame?"  Haven't a clue.

But, I do know that the count will continue, the judgments made, the endorsements lost and the return heralded. Because, in the keeping score column, he with the most points, whatever they might be accumulated from, wins.

I've just learned that there is a message board for just about every conceivable, possible, imaginable topic.

Who knew?

Find a topic that interests you, type it into google and voila, there are a gazillion various and assorted thoughts spilling forth about whatever it is you just looked up. You sure can learn alot about what is on the minds of others. 

If you care.

Armed with this meaningless information then, today there were two topics of interest that required, I thought, further investigation.

One was the canceling of the longest running Soap, Guiding Light. It seems that Proctor and Gamble has opted out of the "soaps" (TV, that is…) and will no longer be playing that tune. 

So sad. An era ends.

Having never watched a soap in my life, mourning this loss eluded me. But, I knew, that there would be a reasonable number of angry viewers who would have something to say. 

For example "I am so upset that this show was canceled. I
have been watching for over 50 yrs since I was 8 yrs old. It is the
only show that I watch and I have seen the whole Bauer clan grow up and
even die." 

Or, "I must say, upon hearing the news about CBS
canceling GL, I was in shock!! Although I have watched since about
1984, I do think the story lines have been ridiculous and/or boring for
the past couple of years. Luckily, I have always liked at least one
couple or storyline, so I kept watching – just fast-forwarded the dumb
parts."

Now these are loyal fans. Angry, pissed off, loyal fans. "Dumb parts" taking place over the course of someone's "42 years" of viewing. 

I haven't a point of view about what they were lamenting about, but I did understand what they were trying to say.

The second topic that was of interest to me was the "eddie." This is a surfing competition that honors Eddie Aikau, a lifeguard who lost his life at sea. An invitation only surfing competition is held in his honor, when waves reach a height of 30 feet, or more. This article attracted my attention as I am fascinated with the concept of someone, anyone, braving the ocean that is churning out waves over a foot.  I rarely venture forth into the surf, unless it is emulating a lake and is above 70 degrees. 

To the Eddie Aikau message board I went.

Here's one, "you kooks shut it or split. this thread is about stoke, aloha and the mana of surfing. STOKKKKKKKKKKKKKED!!!!!!!!!!!" Do you have ANY idea what that sentence means? 

Having no opinion of my own, I am now going to check out what others have to say about the "Global Warming Conference in Copenhagen, Tiger Woods latest indiscretion, and Lady Gaga meeting the Queen of England." 

I will post a message, on those message board sites,  if you care to know what I think.