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Yesterday’s rainstorm reminded me of a Saturday morning years ago.

I was working alone in my office, which used to be my Saturday hideout because I could accomplish a lot more than on a weekday when I’d be constantly bombarded with questions.

Our office building badly needed a new roof. For nine months we’d waited for a day when we were absolutely certain it wouldn’t rain. The weather service had confirmed — no rain for a week. So, on Thursday we had torn off the old roof which was scheduled to be replaced on Monday. But no one told the weather gods.

As I sat at my desk, I heard the sound of a light drizzle. For ten minutes there were no leaks, it seemed the plywood underneath where the roof used to be was holding, so I relaxed. And then, rainwater started to drip from the ceiling onto my desk.

I immediately called Daveen.

“Please bring to the office as many bowls, and pots and pans as you can. The roof is leaking.”

A few minutes later the roofers unexpectedly arrived, bearing the gift of tarps as a temporary cover. Their thought was good. Their execution — not so much. The roof leaked anyway.

The ceiling in my office was ruined, as was the carpet. As was my bank account after the repair work.

I resolved that in the future I wouldn’t rely on a newspaper weather report to decide when it would be a good time to rip the roof off of one of the many apartment buildings we managed.

Even so, for years I dreaded rain because, well, roofs don’t leak when it’s not raining, and I had experienced too many $30,000 rains.

If it had merely rained actual cats and dogs I wouldn’t have needed to do as much work to repair my office building.

Meow and Woof!

Alan

I know that all of us lost something, or someone, in the pandemic. In the great scheme of things, the loss I’m going to share might not seem significant, but all losses are relative to an individual and every loss is cumulative.

I’ve always loved to attend live theater. Daveen and I have season tickets to many Los Angeles theaters — the Ahmanson, the Mark Taper Forum, the Geffen, Noise Within, and others. Over the years we have often flown to New York or London primarily to see plays, and we love the annual Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August where, over the course of a week, we can see a dozen or more theatrical performances.

Ever since 2019 all of that was taken off the table by Covid-19. Until last week.

On Wednesday we flew to New York, and by Saturday evening we had attended four Broadway plays.

Thursday evening was “Our Town,” a play I first enjoyed when I was in high school. (That seems like a few centuries ago.). Although, the N.Y. Times review of the play was excellent,  I was disappointed. The lead actor is well known on television, but, to me, his artistry did not translate to his stage performance. Fortunately, we greatly enjoyed the three other plays .

Friday night Daveen and I held hands all the way through a new play, “Maybe Happy Ending,” about two robots falling in love. The leading couple recently graduated from the theater program at the University of Michigan, and they were outstanding. Bravo, U of Michigan!

The Saturday matinee of “The Great Gatsby,” a new musical, was filled with special effects and quite entertaining.

Last, and perhaps best, was the two-actor play, “The Roommate” that featured Mia Farrow and Patti LuPone. Both are well known actresses, and each is in their mid to late 70’s. Go, old folks!  (And it’s okay to smoke a little pot).

I’m happy to report that Times Square was as busy as ever.

Now I just hope that Covid-19 was not attending the theater with us. I had a slight tickle in my throat this morning. But, for better and for worse, I also have an active imagination.

Alan

I take personal pride when I’m able to find happiness in the moment, even when life doesn’t go the way I might otherwise have wanted. That is a pretty important psychological skill to have.

By way of example – let’s say I was out to lunch with two friends.  I wanted Chinese but my friends preferred an Italian restaurant.

So there I was, having lunch at an Italian cafe, and not at the Chinese place I’d hoped for. Basically, I have two options.

First, I can choose to dwell on my dissatisfaction. The reality of the moment is different than what I wanted. I can even complain (either to myself or out loud to everyone). I might expand my gripe session to my entire life and complain about all the things that aren’t the way I’d like them to be. But I think of this as “victim” mentality,” and many people I know go through their entire lives in that mode. We all know who they are. We also know how tiresome those kinds of people can be to spend time with.  They always complain.

The other option is for me to find happiness in the moment, the way things actually are. Maybe that is just a psychological slight-of-hand, but it’s effective. So, even though Italian was not my first choice, now that I’m seated at an Italian restaurant I can choose to enjoy it. I can even cite four or five reasons why Italian was the better choice.

The larger point of this blog is that none of us controls everything that happens in our lives.  That’s why, for example, we need to pay close attention every single moment that we are behind the steering wheel of a car.

Some of the best advice I’ve ever read (probably from Shakespeare, but what worth-while advice isn’t?) is this:  Expect the best, plan for the worst.  In other words, if you bring your raincoat you’ll be better prepared for rain. And if it rains, celebrate that it is raining.

One of my sons is a university professor who studies human behavior– notably judgment and decision making.  I hope I have stepped lightly into his territory.

Alan