LOOKING FORWARD IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR

When I was young (post dinosaur, pre Disneyland), we had an amusement park in Chicago named Riverview. Riverview was the home of the "Bobs," advertised to be one of the biggest, baddest roller coasters in the world.

Once or twice a year my buddies and I would take the bus to Riverview, spend the day, and come home tired, broke and sick. Ah! the good old days.

I would always ride the monstrous Bobs, not because I enjoyed 11 minutes of having my stomach follow me at a respectful ten feet, but because it was the macho thing to do. (I did say I was there with my buddies, didn't I?)

Climbing into the wildly-painted coaster car I'd make sure I was settled as far back in the well-worn, cracked-leather, Lysol-smelling seat as my anatomy would allow. I would then jam the safety bar as tightly up to my waist as my anatomy would allow. Then with the precision of a concert pianist, I would place my sweaty digits into the finger indentations chiseled in the bar by thousands of previous macho and femcho thrill seekers. In basically that position, I would ride the fast, foreboding, fearsome Bobs.

Eventually revitalization caught up with the Riverview section of town. No more amusement park, no more Bobs, one more parking lot.

Now when I reminisce on my Riverview experiences, I realized what a wuss (didn't have that word in those days, but you get the idea) I was. I think if I were to go on the Bobs today when we started up the first hill, I'd push that sissy safety bar away and stand up when we hit the first dip. I'd take my shirt off and wave it wildly in the air screaming, "I'm the king of the world!" during the whole electrifying way down.

That's what I would have done (looking back from the safety of my Lazy Boy and knowing I'll never have to ride the Bobs again). But the Bobs are gone and so, thank God, is my opportunity to try out the new wild and crazy me.

I think of my love/hate relationship with the Bobs when I hear speakers and writers reveal studies of senior citizen and what they wished they had done in their lives--how they wished they had ridden their "Bobs."

The senior studies ask the question, "If you had your life to live over, what would you do?" The answers are sprinkled with phrases like:

"Be more reflective."
"Take more risks."
"Be relaxed."
"Be silly."
"Make more mistakes."
and of course "Pick more daisies."

I am always intrigued by these revelations. What our elders say is pure truth --for them. They are looking back on a life they will never have to live again. They are often economically secure, work life is over, kids beyond their influence, finally settled on their last spouse, many friends gone and death is the next big adventure.

Everything the older folks say is also purely logical and understandable looking BACK on life. Saying, "I should have taken more chances" when you're 85, and the consequence of taking chances no longer exists, is much easier than taking chances at 25 with the consequences of those "chances" looming ahead.

Would I be such a wild and crazy, roller-coaster type guy if the Bobs still existed, and I was sitting in that wildly-painted car heading up the first hill?

There is a time and a place in our lives for everything. What the younger folks believe makes life worthwhile (accomplishment and challenge) is as true for them as what the older folks believe (take more risks and make more mistakes). The secret is to DO what makes you happy WHEN it makes you happy. Don't pick daisies if you would rather work just because someone else said you should want to be a "picker." As long as the accumulation of wealth makes you happy -- then accumulate wealth. When it stops making you happy -- pick daisies.

What produces unhappy people is people spending their lives not doing what seems right for them at the time, but doing things others believe is right for them.

While you might think I'm putting down the results of these studies, I'm not. I believe the reminders these studies provide are critical to taking the edge off for people living in an uncertain world, but are these activities doable? Even having been exposed to the studies at 25, when we turn 85, we will wish we hadn't taken life quite as seriously. And we'll be certain to pass that sage advice on to any 25-year-old that will listen, thereby starting the "advice given, advice not taken" cycle all over again.

We humans seem hell bent on learning through making our own mistakes. Maybe that's what makes us human. It seems every generation mocks the old ways and blindly follows the new. This blanket rejection is understandable because many of the "old ways" won't work today, but that doesn't mean all of them won't work

If the human condition does not facilitate our learning effectively from others experiences, then by default our learning must come from our own experiences. This is a cosmic dirty trick because by learning through our own experiences the leaning comes just after we need it.

Life is not long enough to learn the rules as we go, Keep your options open and disregard the 85-year-old advice that won't work at 25, but before you do make sure you're right. The stakes are higher than the Bobs. Remember the second mouse gets the cheese.

Lesson: Your propensity for self-learning may make you human, but it doesn't necessarily make you a smart human.