In this month for envisioning the New Year, some self-help book will undoubtedly suggest it’s also time to decide “What should I leave behind from the old year?” and “What do you want to leave behind when you die?”
These are deer-in-the-headlights questions designed by life coaches to make clients squirm and think big.
Every year around this time, I notice the world is divided into two camps: those who are easy to buy for and those who are not.
I used to think this broke down along gender lines, probably because my mom always told me, “Men are sooo hard to buy for!”
Most people approach holiday meals with a recipe box full of gravy-stained family favorites. Not me. Not a lot of people anymore.
Instead, thanks to Google, holiday cooking can be a mad scientist’s laboratory. Search for “best…this or that,” download the ones with five-star reviews, and you’re set.
Visiting Boston this month, I knew the fancy wood sign outside the pale green building was karma: Garden Remedies.
“Finally some answers to my hydrangea bushes,” I thought, and vowed to return the next morning when they opened.
Unfortunately, not so helpful. Garden Remedies turned out to be a medical marijuana shop. Edibles, oils and patches, yes. Hydrangeas, not so much.
It was bound to happen. One more app I couldn’t resist, and my cell phone rebelled.
“Go three miles north and turn right,” said the Waze lady. Only problem was, I was already at my destination, and she refused to shut up.
There’s no joy like watching my wild child, now an adult, struggle with his own wild child.
“Was I really like this?” he’ll ask. To which I quickly reply, “No. Much worse.”
But I wasn’t prepared for the moment when what goes around comes around came around to me.
I admit it. All my life, I’ve been lured by the possibilities of a ringing phone. Could be an invitation! The voice of a long-lost relative! A cross-country reach-out from an old friend!
Apparently I have Fear of Missing Out, so I rush to answer the landline, FOMO in full gear. Occasionally it’s one of the above, but usually, it’s an eery silence or worse, a robot.
Vacation season is upon us. More important, Facebook vacation season.
These days, no self-respecting traveler heads for beach, mountain, or thriving metropolis without smart phone and selfie stick in hand. Gorgeous views. Smiles as big as the grand canyon. Life with glitz and no glitch.
The world is divided between people who LOVE to shop, and those who can’t stand it. I’ve always been in the second category.
So when my daughter-in-law suggested I try an online clothes-shopping service – and lured me in with a $25 credit for each of us – I jumped at the chance. Why not?
I don’t understand technology, and I hate messing around with figures. But every once in a while, I go ahead and torture myself.
With tax-filing behind me, I decided this month to enter the primo techno-finance torture chamber: figuring out whether to cut the cord and dump cable TV.