Editor’s Note
Maybe I’ve been watching too many home makeover shows — and there’s a 100% chance that’s true — but I’m tackling a renovation of my own this summer: Control Revamp 2022.
Big stuff, minor stuff, it doesn’t matter. I’ve stockpiled a lifetime of frustration trying to force things to happen that are beyond my influence. I’m done with it.
Here’s an example that should have taken me down this road of revelation decades ago but didn’t: When I was 16, I lost my driver’s education certificate, a document required for the driving part of the license exam.
Unwilling to wait three weeks for a replacement, I borrowed a friend’s certificate, erased her name and typed mine in. An inexpert forgery by a teenager on a typewriter in the public library breakroom where I worked that summer should have been an easy catch for the license bureau worker, but he missed it.
I took my driving test and got my license, but was busted almost immediately because the chagrined examiner realized (while I didn’t) that the certificate had a date indicating it had been used to get a driver’s license the week earlier.
After an intimidating interview by a state trooper, a sobering appearance before a court referee, and a fine that took a chunk of my summer wages, I was dealt the biggest punishment of all: I had to wait six months before taking the test again.
Lessons Not Learned
I won’t rehash other Failure To Control issues in the decades since then. In hindsight, I should have learned to let things play out, see what happens, go with the flow. Apply your own euphemism.
My epiphany came last month when I tried snorkeling for the first time. I have an enormous amount of confidence when tackling new things, a confidence based on scant evidence and few skills. When I jumped in with unfamiliar gear in an unfamiliar situation, I resorted to my fallback setting: I tried to control everything: the fins, the mask, the snorkel, even the waves around me.
I panicked, flailed around and ended up with a mouth and mask full of saltwater. This happened several times until my sister swam over and told me to relax, breathe slowly and let the experience unfold (my words, hers were more direct).
That’s how I decided on a Control Revamp as a summer project, along with adding shrubs to my yard and fixing the broken step on the chicken coop. I want to give things a chance to work out before imposing my will on them. Will I succeed? I put my odds at 50/50. But without a goal, I’m sunk for sure.
I hope you’ll consider a less weighty goal of trying some of our “50 Ways to Love Your Summer” to make the most of the next few months. And our columnists in this May/June 2022 issue, as always, dive into topics that cover the more serious issues of aging and caring for aging loved ones. It’s a balance we try to strike with each issue and I hope we succeeded in this one.
Less clear are the implications of Control Revamp 2022. It’s off to a bad start. I’m in a feud over an Amazon order, sending emails and photos instead of waiting to see if they make things right as promised. Summer begins June 21, so I’ve got time to reset my revamp. Already, this is more complicated than I expected.
One thing I know I can’t control is the space for this column, so I’ll stop here. Enjoy our Summer Fun issue. (I know I’ll have summer fun, despite my issues.)
Marie