More than a few times, at the end of some ill-conceived scheme, I’ve thought, “If I only had a video camera. I’d just put it on the record right now. “Never EVER should you try this again,” I would tell myself, camera rolling, and proceed to list in detail the reasons why I detested the adventure.

Instead, I seem to bump along, from one over-extended day into the next, somehow blocking out the last time I decided to wash the car myself and save five bucks. If I had a video it would help me remember. Oh, yeah. It didn’t work out so well. I ruined some perfectly good shoes and had to run mid-project to the hardware store for a new hose. So why not document all this in real time, holding up the once-fetching shoes and the receipt for $26.95? What better plan for someone who can so quickly block out one disaster and pole vault into the next?

Thinking back over the last few years, I am anguished at the missed opportunities for these video detest-imonials and mildly surprised that when I’m not in a “bright idea” moment, I can actually recall the missteps I should have filmed.

Had I done this, a star in my collection would have been the garage sale video of tables groaning with piles of used clothes. I would have shot it the morning after, when I was waiting for the Salvation Army truck to pick up 85% of my bargains. In this video, I would be holding up the $43 I had garnered from 43-plus hours of work.

“I should have just given the stuff to charity,” I would be wailing. “God is punishing me. Never do this again.”

This video would save me the next time I walked through the basement and had some hair-brained idea of financing a trip to Hawaii with garage sale proceeds.

Same with the next time I decided it would be “fun” to try out a tricky new recipe on company for the first time. I could turn to the “company for dinner” video, shot with a wide lens to capture the kitchen island littered with a farmer’s market full of vegetables to chop and torn sheets of paper-thin dough.

“Do not be fooled,” I would be saying, “by a package that says ‘never-fail puff pastry.’ And never – no matter how tempting the picture looks – try for Hollandaise on the side.” Company for dinner would be one of the shorter detest-imonials, with company set to arrive in just 15 minutes and non-food clutter not yet thrown into every available closet and drawer.

The more I thought about the video idea, the more compelled I felt to do it, so I shared it the other day with my walking buddy, Joan.

“Actually,” I told her, “this could be a great business idea. I could make my own videos available on YouTube, or provide some sort of instruction sheet – for a fee – on how you could make your own. I could become a detest-imonial consultant.” I was feeling the adrenaline starting to flow.

“I hate to ask,” she said politely, “but is there a video you wish you’d once shot on starting a business, or would this be your first?”

Copyright 2012 Pat Snyder