In last week’s blog, I lamented losing the flipper that stands in for a temporary tooth pending my upcoming dental implant surgery. On Thursday evening, the missing flipper miraculously returned.

I smiled when the flipper reappeared on my night stand.  I assume the darn thing had been hiding in plain sight on the bedroom floor, and the housekeeper found it.

Wait.  No celebration yet.

On Friday Daveen and I headed out of town for a brief respite from the pandemic.  I wore the flipper all the way to the hotel, then put it in my pocket as I got out of the car.

In our hotel room I discovered that the flipper was, once again, missing.  This time I assumed that it was back in the car, which had already been parked, so I decided to ignore it for the weekend and instead enjoy relaxing and watching football on TV.

As I might have predicted, but didn’t, I could not find it in the car when we returned home on Sunday.

There’s a saying, “Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.”

I’m not going to invest further emotional energy on this.  If the flipper knocks on my front door this evening, I won’t answer.  If I stumble across it in my bathroom, I’ll throw it out.  If it sends me an email . . . well, let’s not stray too far from reality.

When I was single I dated a woman who was upset that I had mentioned her, rather kindly, in my blog.  I had only used her first name, with a different spelling.  Nevertheless, she was unhappy, so I promised to never write about or contact her again.”  And I haven’t.

Flipper, wherever you are, I will not write about or contact you again.

That’s final!

I hope.

Alan

Recently, I had one of my front teeth surgically extracted.  Before I left the office, my dentist prepared a “flipper”.  This is a temporary, nearly undetectable dental appliance that serves as a replacement tooth for cosmetic purposes until the permanent implant can be installed. I was supposed to wear mine until November, when I’m scheduled to return for the implant.

I have many basic habits, such as eating the same breakfast every morning.  To facilitate keeping track of the flipper, I tried to establish a new habit. I would always keep the flipper in one of three places:

1. My mouth.
2. My pocket.
3. Next to my bathroom sink.

I tried this plan after a month of searching for the darned thing several times a day.  Often for hours.  I can’t begin to fully express my acute frustration with the flipper that always went missing.  I felt like Sisyphus, doomed to roll a large boulder up a hill, losing my grip near the top and having to start over again.  For eternity.  Yuck.

I lost my flipper almost every time I removed it from my mouth. You might not be surprised to learn that Daveen was far better at finding it than I was.

I had planned to write this week’s blog announcing how successful I had been in keeping track of the flipper for two weeks.  Hurrah for me.  But, as you know, pride goeth before a fall.

Sadly, as of today, I’m not able to report that I triumphed in establishing a new habit.

I have lost the flipper once again, this time perhaps for good.  Even Daveen hasn’t found it.  She suggested that I return to my dentist and ask him to make two of them.

I have a different idea.  I’m not going to replace it. That way I can end my constant irritation over losing it, since that is something I’m really talented at.

It is said that a habit is first a cobweb, then a cord, and finally a cable.  Maybe so.  But in this case I’m taking a short cut.

So those of you who see me smile before the middle of November, please just smile back.  Hopefully, with all of your teeth intact.

Alan

I’ve always wondered which I should pay more attention to in my life – the journey or reaching the destination.

Years ago I read a fantasy story in which the hero wanted his life to be just like a movie.  His wish was granted. Subsequently he experienced everything as a series of quick cuts. Each evening ended abruptly at the bedroom door, because in those days movies were infused with Victorian morals.

Once I tried to stop time.  If I had succeeded I suppose all of us would have been frozen in one moment forever, so no doubt you’ll be relieved to know that I failed.  Time kept moving right along.  Oh, well.  It was fun trying.

Most of us realize that when we’re bored, an hour seems interminably long.  But, when we’re engaged, an entire day seems to fly by.

I take pleasure in setting goals for myself, and even more pleasure in achieving them.  Seven or eight years ago I made a commitment to write this blog every week.  The process of conceiving, writing, and editing the blog takes several hours.  That’s the journey, and it’s fun. The final destination – emailing the finished blog for posting – takes an instant.  Brief, but also satisfying.

So for me the question answers itself.  For example, a wedding and reception may last three or four hours.  The “I now pronounce you” part takes only a few seconds.  I aim to enjoy the hours spent at the wedding, as well as the moment the happy couple arrives at “I do.”

I certainly find satisfaction in finishing a project, but yesterday I was transfixed by the fluttering shadows of leaves on my window as the sun gradually set. Sometimes it’s refreshing to slow down and pause en route to the finish line.

I hope that you are enjoying my blog while you are in the process of reading it. I’d like to believe that I’ve not only given you something interesting to think about today, but that your enjoyment will linger, even after you’re finished.

And I hope you thoroughly embrace your day. May you enjoy your journey as well as reaching your destinations.

Cheerio!

Alan

P.S.  This past week I enjoyed the Netflix movie Worth. You might find that the two hours you’ll spend watching this film is rewarding.