The simplest of all pleasures is food.

You might have thought sex, but that doesn't always turn out the way we hoped it would. Food is always just the way we remembered it, or imagined it. A lover may or may not be satisfactory -- on any given night -- but that pint of caramel pecan ice cream is the definition of satisfaction. So is the cheeseburger with everything or even the perfect Caesar salad. We know what we're getting, and we're getting just what we expected and looked forward to. Of course anything that makes you feel good -- or that tastes good -- is going to have a price. We Americans are obese, according to lots of studies. We're wadddling around in our prosperity, scarfing up anything and everything we desire. It may be a trend that spells the end of our great country -- if, for instance, there's a real war in the future, and we can't draft enough men in fighting shape -- or it may just be one of those times in history that will correct itself. Maybe everyone will gradually realize that being at one's "fighting weight" (a boxing term meaning the weight you are at your best) makes one feel good and allows one to get a lot more done, and done better. For a country so obsessed with celebrity and all its self-important beauty, it's amazing that we don't look in our own mirrors more often. If you really think Madonna looks that good, why aren't you trying to look that way, too? I'll tell you why. Madonna puts in many hours at the gym to look the way she does. Most of us aren't willing to do that. But we don't have to. It's easier than that. After all, Madonna is a body-builder, whereas most of us would be happy just to fit into the clothes we have in our closets. Here's how: Eat like an animal. That means when you're hungry, period.
Forget breakfast and lunch and dinner/supper. Don't eat unless you're hungry, regardless of time of day. And eat something you really like. But just so much. If you have leftover pizza in the fridge, take out one piece and heat it up in the microwave -- or not -- and eat that. Savor every bite. But just that one piece. At the end of the day, you won't have eaten anywhere near what you used to eat. Guaranteed. And do try to go out walking, if not jogging, every now and then. Or play a fun sport like tennis or golf. Stay active, like an animal. Think of yourself as an animal. You are one, you know. Trust your instincts. That's what animals do, and except for cows and pigs, that we have domesticated, I don't know many that are overweight.

Before you die, get your stuff organized.

When you go, as you will, are there things you've saved that you really don't want anyone else to see? Old love letters? Journals meant just for you that would embarrass others if made public?
I'm sure that most of us would -- if we were struck by a UPS truck tomorrow and killed -- wish we'd had time to sort through our papers and memorabilia and gotten rid of some stuff.

On the other hand, we might wish that we'd saved many of those old letters and papers, etc. We know that our kids or whoever comes after us are not likely to know what's important -- in the great family chain or to posterity -- and will likely pitch the whole mess. They may throw away the important documents of our lives -- marriage certificates, etc. -- not to mention old photos.

But think about it: you're a kid, of whatever age, going through the boxes of Mom's and/or Dad's old stuff -- photos, letters, certificates, etc. You've got your own life going on, and maybe it's not going so good. Maybe the marriage is on the rocks, and the kids are acting up, and the last thing you want to think about is how to dispose of the parents' crap that they've saved all these years.
You call someone who agrees to buy all the furniture -- at criminal prices -- and you send all the rest to the landfill.

Why not try to organize it now, while you're alive and know what's important and what should
be saved or discarded? Why not use a part of your retirement time -- when you might be taking a cruise or a yoga class or playing golf or whatever -- to put into boxes, with labels, all the stuff
you think should be saved, and why? After you've done it -- after you've put into those boxes everything you want your kids to save for their own kids, etc. -- then you can go off to sail or play golf or whatever with a clear conscience.

Just don't forget to get rid of the old love letters. Office Depot has a shredder for under $50.

If you want to commit suicide, wait until tomorrow.

The temptation to end it all is often rooted in a mood that may pass: a temporary depression, brought on by something traumatic that happens without warning and that may resolve itself by tomorrow. If the feeling has been going on for a long time, and has intensified, then there may be real danger that you're really going to end it all. But often that's not the case, so see if a good night's sleep might make you feel that life, after all, may be worth living. That doesn't mean that suicide is never an option. I think it was Camus who said that suicide is the only question worth considering. And it is. Each of us has the power -- and the right, I think -- to end life when and how we choose. But we must first ask the essential question: Will my self-inflicted death cause misery to others I love? Weigh that first. I wrote a dissertation on the poetry of Sylvia Plath, who ended her life by laying her head down in an oven, with the gas on, at the age of 30. She left behind two little kids. Her husband, Ted Hughes, the Poet Laureate of England at the time, apparently took care of them, and they grew up more or less okay. (His second wife killed herself, too, but that probably says more about Ted than about his wives.) But is that the image of you that you want your kids to take with them as they struggle to grow up? Isn't growing up and finding yourself hard enough even when you come from a "normal" family? Why burden your kids with that kind of baggage? On the other hand, your life is yours, and you have a right to stop it whenever things are just too much to take. Just wait until tomorrow, okay? The sun may be shining and you may have gotten a good night's sleep. if not, go ahead. There's always time to kill yourself.

Life is just one version.

This is what I want on my tombstone. Writers know this, which is why they spend their lives creating different versions of the lives we all live. Why do we read novels? To experience lives that we haven't lived -- and that no one has lived. We want to know how it might have turned out if this or that character had chosen a different path. But aren't we all like that? Wouldn't your own life had turned out differently if you hadn't danced with that guy or you hadn't kissed that girl or hadn't taken home that wrong -- or right -- person? We are the sum of our choices.
We could have made different choices, and everything would have been different. As it is in fiction, so it is in in reality. Life is just one version. Everything could have been, might have been, oh so different.

Pretty and handsome are not the same, but they're unisex.

Britney Spears is pretty. So is Brad Pitt. What? You thought pretty only applied to girls? And handsome only applied to men? Girls and men -- get it? The words are less a function of sex as of age. When you're young and attractive, you're pretty. When you're older and still attractive, you're handsome. Think about the Eagles' song "Hotel California": "She's got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends." Those boys are pretty because they're young. They're not handsome yet: that takes some aging and some living. Sean Connery is handsome. So is Meryl Streep. You wouldn't call her pretty, right? But she's very attractive. She's a handsome woman.
Let's stop sexing our words. Dame Judy Dench is handsome, as was Cary Grant. Pretty denotes youth and beauty; handsome denotes certain distinguishing features that come from a life lived by a formerly pretty person. Pretty is fleeting; handsome endures. In Harry Chapin's song, "Taxi", his former girlfriend "is acting happy inside her handsome home": we know right away what kind of home she lives in, which is not pretty but older and established but still attractive, as maybe she is, all these years later.

Don't give people information they can't process.

Our brains are stressed enough just trying to get through the day without having to deal with somebody unloading troubling informaton on us for no good reason. Something we have to deal with only because it was told to us. Prior to hearing it, we were doing okay or not, but now we're doing worse. Did we really need to hear that?

Don't give people information they can't process. Don't confess to your spouse that you've had an affair but that it's over. Forget the "over" part: It's the part about you having sex with someone else that your wife will never get out of her mind. Never ever ever.

But what if you hadn't told her and really had ended the affair? Might you not spend the rest of your life making up to her for something she doesn't know you did? Might she not benefit from all that guilty attention? If you are truly done fooling around -- and not fooling yourself about it -- then not telling her might make both your lives better in the long run.

Never tell your mother that you have murdered your ex or anyone else. Don't admit to your boss that you've been stealing from the company for years but that you aren't doing it anymore.

What are they supposed to do with that information?

It has to be processed -- meaning that they have to deal with it somehow. Don't burden people with personal information that will require them to (1) hate you, or (2) fire you, or (3) turn you in. They were doing fine before you gave them this unsolicited information about yourself, and now they have to take some action that they don't want to take.

Keep your personal confessions to yourself, unless they can help someone. If you must share them, do so with your priest or counselor. On the other hand, if you truly have repented for your misdeeds, then, by all means, share that with everyone you might have hurt. Ask for their forgiveness. (Most people will give it, if just to be rid of you.)

Be honest with everyone, but don't volunteer disturbing information unless asked to. Or you think it might do the other person some good. If it's all about you, then take Archie Bunker's advice and stifle, Edith.

Don't go around putting little bombs in people's pockets.

Where you live is your most important decision.

Don't just think about what you're going to do for a living, and who you're going to marry, but also about where you want to live. When the marriage goes sour, and you're tired of the job, you want to at least be in a place you like. Are you a city guy or girl? Do you love the mountains? The ocean? The plains? Would you rather live out your days in a small town or a big city? Once you've made that first big move, after you've gotten your degree from college or just made a decision to go somewhere else, think about the fact that you may end up in that place forever. Once you get somewhere and start to put down roots -- buy a house, start a family -- you may be in that place your whole life. So choose carefully from the start. Try to pick a place that suits your personality, your basic likes, your temperament and tolerance for different weathers. I know people in Colorado, where I live, who think it gets too cold in the winter; I know others who want to move even further north, into Wyoming and even Montana, where the winters chill you to the bone. I know people who love beaches -- my wife being one -- who would love to live where the temperature never gets below 70. Those locales are, of course, very expensive, so figure that in. Do you like a change of seasons? Do you like the noise and hubbub of the city? Or do you prefer the quiet and comfort of a small town, where everyone knows everyone? These are decisions that are at least as important as what job you take or who you marry, and it's the one no one ever talks to you about while they're busy giving you unsolicited advice about every other part of your life. Every decision is a trade-off, so try to determine, ahead of time, what balance may work best for you and, if applicable, for your life partner.

Learn to pleasure yourself.

Find out what is most important to you and what makes you feel your best and then be sure you always make these a priority. You'll keep your sanity a lot longer when you remember to look after yourself first. It's not selfish; it's self-preservation. Your loved ones will thank you for it.

If you really have to ride your bike every day or drive your car at high speeds on the highway
on weekends or take time to spend with your friends, let your spouse know this as soon as possible. Always tell your partner what is important to you and don't back down. "This is what I need to do to keep myself sane." Hang gliding? Shopping? Whatever it is, say it and stick by it. Very seldom will someone you've bonded with, sexually and intimately, refuse you what is important to you -- and if they do, re-think the relationship. But always stick to your guns.

If, on the other hand, you want to travel, or take dance lessons -- activities that may require another person -- and your partner/spouse wants to stay at home all the time and doesn't want to dance, you may have to negotiate. You can do it, but always retain your right to do whatever it is that brings you the most pleasure without endangering your relationship. Pick travel companions that won't make your spouse think you're looking for a different (sexual) partner.
Take dance lessons with someone of the same sex -- or someone of a different sex but dubious orientation. Many women find gay guys wonderful dance partners -- or travel companions -- and vice versa. In the end, trust your spouse, until you have reason not to.

Marriage --whether legalized or not -- is all about trust. And we humans are notoriously untrustworthy. Good luck!

My religion is that something weird is going on, and I don't know what it is -- and neither do you.

My religion is that something weird is going on, but I don't know what it is -- and you don't either. Sorry about that second part, but you don't. Much of religion is wishful thinking: we don't want to think about being dead, with the lights turned off and nothing of us remaining, anywhere. Bones? Tombstones? Cold comfort. That's why we invented heaven, a place where we will finally be understood and appreciated. Wishful thinking indeed! Hey, it may exist, but we don't have any evidence of it. But we're still looking, right? In the meantime, we have to try to figure out how to live in this world. I mean, if there really is a heaven, you'll be accepted there only if you've been good in this life, right? If you've been bad, really bad, then you're not likely going to any heaven any of us can imagine. I think that's the sticking point: imagining heaven. How can mere humans conjure a place beyond this life where we can all exist in utter bliss? Or hell, where our earthly sins are punished by eternal damnation? The one is as hard to believe as the other, don't you think? We're probably, limited as we are by our finite brains, mistaken on both points. If anything lies beyond our human existence -- and it's a stretch to think it -- then it's probably not anything like what we can come up with. However, I do believe there are hints that something "weird" -- meaning not understood -- may indeed be going on. Just as physics posits (proposes) dimensions beyond those we understand -- a 4-D or 5-D beyond 3-D -- I suspect there may be mental and even spiritual dimensions beyond our understanding. I like that idea. Don't you? I like the idea of a soul that survives the body. I don't have any evidence of it, but I like the idea. I've always been intrigued by the concept of re-incarnation, where you keep coming back, in different times and in different bodies/personalities, until you get it right and reach perfection: nirvana. I have no proof of this, but I do have some evidence: I have known, as you have, people who are just "better" than you and me, better than they had a right to be, people who shame us with their un-wavering ethical values. These, I think, may be the souls who have been back more often than we have. They are closer to nirvana. [I think I said all this in a later post -- I'm editing now -- but it bears repeating.] It may not be true, but if I were in charge of the universe, this is the way I would organize it. Think of it this way: Each of us comes into the world knowing nothing. We are the products of our parents, who we have no control over. In short, we're the victims of our genes from the starting gate. But -- and this is a big but -- we all have choices to make along the way. Because we're NOT just the product of our genes, a by-product of our parents' lust. We are, each and every one of us, unique. Nobody like us ever existed before. We may be born into a rich family or a poor one, descended from geniuses or fools, and we may end up President or in prison, but we are one of a kind. You. Me. All that freedom and all that fear. In the end, after family and friends, on our own. That's either a cheering or a depressing thought, depending on you. Is something weird going on? Of course. Do you know what it is? Of course not. I don't, either. But I'm thankful for it. Aren't you? Long live the mystery of us!