In 1991 I flew to the big island of Hawaii to witness a total eclipse of the sun.  The hotel required a six night stay, which was pleasant enough, but the highlight, or one could say the highdark, of my visit was the total eclipse of the sun scheduled for the next-to-last day.

The west coast of the big island of Hawaii boasts three hundred and sixty sunny days a year, so I didn’t even consider the possibility of clouds.  The first five days were bright and beautiful, but when I woke up on the day of the eclipse I was dumbfounded to see an overcast sky.

I’m an optimist.  I was certain the clouds would disappear before the moon blotted out the sun.  But no.  I stood on a hotel room balcony, desperately looking up at . . . clouds.  I watched the eclipse on CNN and I’ve been disappointed ever since.

So when my son suggested that we take the family to see the eclipse scheduled to cross the entire continental United States on August 21, 2017, my answer was an enthusiastic “Yes.”

At 8:30 am on the appointed day thirteen of my family members landed at the busy airport in Casper, Wyoming.  We bought a few souvenirs then headed downtown where there was a festival.

For the previous ten days all of us had studied the weather reports for Casper.  Every forecast predicted full sunshine all day, so we were confident.

We parked near downtown – free parking (unlike Los Angeles where the parking meters gobble quarters as if the existence of the city depended on the income) –and walked to the festival where three or four hundred people had gathered. We passed the time by shopping.  I bought a special “Total Eclipse” baseball cap from an artist who had created his own special design for the event.

The day remained bright.  We used our eclipse glasses to watch the moon take its first bite out of the sun.  Gradually, the sun was transformed into a crescent moon.  Finally the crowd counted down toward totality.

“Three . . . two . . . one . . .,” and there we were, eyes uncovered, looking at the dark spot where the sun had shone.  We observed the sun’s corona, a bright ring which surrounded the mask of the moon.

I was struck by two thoughts.

First, how rare it must be in the entire universe for a small moon to blot out a much larger sun in precisely this way so that we are able to observe the sun’s corona.  As a layman it seems to me that while there may be life on many other planets there can’t be many other total eclipses that happen in exactly this way.  I stood at a special place in the universe witnessing a unique event.

Second, I was alive on a planet in a solar system where the sun and planets move in predictable, immutable orbits, each separate, yet all bound together by gravity, a pervasive force we cannot see or touch.

I recalled words from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:

“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on, nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”

In a little more than two minutes the sun and warmth returned.  Light clouds appeared as we enjoyed a fine outdoor lunch before flying back to Los Angeles to continue living out our more ordinary days.

Alan

Suppose you knew that you had one year to live.

I’m not going to ask what you would do with your remaining year.  I’m going to share with you what I wouldn’t do with mine.

I wouldn’t buy a new car.  I love my red Tesla. It accelerates so quickly that I don’t ever push the pedal to the floor because I’m afraid of what might happen.

I wouldn’t start any new relationships.  I’d spend my time deepening the friendships I already have.

I wouldn’t be silent about political issues.  Expressing my strongly held beliefs might not change a thing, but I’d rather go out as a rabble rouser.

I wouldn’t spend time with people who bore me (and I wouldn’t be indirect about it).

I wouldn’t spend so much time at the office.

I wouldn’t pay attention to the news.  I would read books instead.  I would watch shows on TV that entertained me, rather than news shows on CNN, Fox News, or MSNBC that scare me.

I wouldn’t set an alarm to wake up in the morning, ever.  I would wake up whenever I wanted to.

I wouldn’t be afraid of rejection.  What the heck, it would only last for less than a year.

I wouldn’t care so much about the size of my bank account (not that I would be irresponsible).  Well, maybe a little.

I wouldn’t seek approval.  I would let it all hang out.

I wouldn’t buy any new clothes.  The ones I have are just fine.

I wouldn’t be so “polite” in my relationships.  I would get to the essence of what matters to me.

I wouldn’t tell anyone except my wife when I was going to die until the very last month.  It would be interesting for me to see how people not in on “the secret” treated the new me.

I wouldn’t start any new projects unless I knew I was going to be able to finish them.  My computer already stores too many half-written ideas.

I wouldn’t beg or bargain for more time. I wouldn’t bemoan my single year.  My time here always was limited.  The only difference – now I would know the expiration date.

I wouldn’t spend much time on the superficial.  I would spend more time on introspection.

I wouldn’t be as much of a couch potato.

I wouldn’t hang out with adults so much.  Maybe I’d help out by teaching fourth grade.

I wouldn’t read any weather forecasts.  I would just enjoy whatever comes.

I wouldn’t stop writing my blog.  The weekly deadline imposes a structure in my life that I like.

I’m sure, if you thought about it, you also have a valuable “wouldn’t” list.  Of course, the final “wouldn’t” for each of us should be:

I wouldn’t wait for tomorrow to fully be the person I would like to be today.

Alan

“I had rather be right than president,” the well-known United States Senator Henry Clay of Kentucky declared in the U. S. Senate on February 7, 1839.

I don’t know if the voters of that time agreed that Senator Clay was right.  I do know that he was never president.

Being right, of course, is subjective.  I enjoyed the recent movie Wonder Woman, which scored highly on the review web site Rotten Tomatoes.  Is it a wonderful movie?  Many people would say “Yes”, and some would say, “No.”  Who is “right?”  Who is to make that determination?

When I look at reviews on Amazon for my three People Tools books there are favorable reviews, including many five star ratings.  But there are also a few ones and twos.  Who is “right”?

My point is that being “right” is subjective.  Being president is objective.

When you disagree with your spouse, parent, children, friend, or boss, which of you is “right?”  I don’t know how to determine that.  If I agree with you then I might be careless and say, “You are right,” when I really should say, “I agree with you.”

In a relationship this is an extremely important distinction. It can make the difference between being married or not, having a job or not, maintaining a good relationship or not. Because if you insist all of the time that you are “right,” what you really are is obnoxious.

I think you’ll agree with me that no human being who ever lived was “right” all of the time.  No one is infallible, including you.

A business associate and I recently returned from a short business trip.  He thought my car was parked on the top level of the LAX parking structure.  I was certain I had parked my car one level below so it would be out of the sun.  We disagreed.  We both searched the lower level several times.  No car.  Had it been stolen?  While I sat on my suitcase, reflecting, my friend climbed the stairs to the top level.

“I found the car,” he texted.

He had, indeed, found my car.  But I must admit that as I sit in my office today typing this, I still believe I parked my car on the lower level.  It must have been moved by some mysterious force that wanted to expose my car to the sun, or just to make me “wrong.”

I know.  You think I’m irrational about this.  And I am.  But I hope you will also recognize that sometimes – not often, but sometimes – you are irrational too.  And there’s the rub.

Would you rather be “right” than married?  Would you rather be “right” than have a job?  Would you rather be “right” than keep a friend?

To maintain a good relationship it helps to say “You’re right” often and “Sorry, I was wrong,” even more often.  Your relationships will thrive.

If my memory is correct, many years ago the best-selling novel Love Story began with the line, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

I disagree.  Love means that you have to say you’re sorry often.

Sorry, Henry.  I too disagree with you.  I don’t need to always be right.

Am I right?

Alan