Metamorphosism

Public service

They say advice is a waste of time, because those who need it are too dumb to take it, and smart people don't need it in the first place. On the other hand, I am turning 45 in a few days (to say exactly on what date would be self-indulgent so I won't, but it's next Monday) and so I figure since that's fairly old, I have now the responsibility to share with you the few nuggets of wisdom I've distilled from those years of experience, not to mention all the self-help books I've read.

So with the caveat that I haven't tried all this stuff myself, and am just making some of it up, here's my advice (the first installment):

1. If you run, get a running bra. This is mostly for women, but some guys could use one too. You know who you are. It doesn't matter how "small" you think you are, you'll thank me when you reach my age.
2. When you take your car into the mechanic, say, to get a bit of metal welded on to the exhaust where it's rotting off, and are leaving it with them all day, make a note of the mileage and make sure they know you have, to discourage them from taking your car for a joy ride when you're not around. (I just got my car back, and the "trip" odometer reading had been re-set to zero and the gas was down about a quarter-tank.)
3. Sometimes it's better to forget things. At the same time, remember that not everyone is willing to do this, so maybe remember one or two stupid things *they've* done for self-defense purposes.
4. When you write love letters, unless you're really good at it, which hardly anyone is, make sure you use self-destructing ink or you'll cringe when you read them years later.
5. Marry someone you like, and who is at least half-sane.
6. Don't be an idiot, but be foolish now and then.
7. Don't be a scaredy-cat, life's too short. The practical wisdom of this, of course, depends on the actual situation.
8. It will heal faster if you don't pick at it.
9. When driving, don't take everything personally. Plan in advance for everyone to be an idiot, and you'll be pleasantly surprised. Driving, for example with Sepultura at a high volume on the stereo, can even stimulate your creativity if you relax and let your mind go completely blank; you'll arrive at your destination with a mind full of fresh new ideas, and no memory of how you got there. At least that's how I feel most mornings when I get to work. It helps me relax if I can avoid thinking about all the other drivers spacing out on the highway too. Where does our mind go, anyway, when we let it wander like that? Is it in a sort of space, like a large invisible static-filled football around our heads as we drive? Or does it enter an alternate universe, a sublime torus, say, like an infinite Krispy Kreme only filled with clouds instead of sugar and shortening, and people like Ursula Andress, Malcom McDowell, Andie McDowell and Roddie McDowell in saffron robes?