Taco Psycho

“Fall down seven times, stand up eight.”—Japanese proverb

Well, there’s another reason to hate Bernie Madoff.

Last week, a particularly vile white-collar crime story came to an end when Madoff, the infamous fraudster, finally did the right thing and departed from this life.

And on that very same day I nearly ended up in a straitjacket.

Madoff, who was serving a 150-year prison sentence, ran what is believed to be the largest Ponzi scheme in financial history, taking in celebrities, universities, institutional investors and just about anybody else who crossed his path.

The Madoff nightmare broke in December 2008 and, as a financial news reporter, I wrote a number of stories related to the scandal.

In fact, I covered a half-day conference that was dedicated solely to Madoff’s misdeeds.

The people who had organized this event wanted to offer advice to financial professionals who were concerned about being sued by Madoff’s victims—which should you give an idea of the scope of the fraud.

I remember being appalled at how one man’s actions could be the subject of an entire seminar.

So, when my boss contacted me Wednesday morning and told to bang out a break news story about Madoff’s death, I jumped into action.

Unfortunately, my computer did not.

I had been having internet trouble all week, and it got so bad the cable company had to send a repairman over to my house to replace the modem.

Naturally this threw off my work schedule, so when Wednesday rolled around I assured my boss that everything was all right on the internet front.

And then, just as I was assigned to cover the biggest business news story of the year, my computer screen froze up me.

The mouse wouldn’t work, the keyboard was useless and I was going nuts.

Dios Mio!

I finally had to shut the computer down entirely and then watch as the machine came to life at a torturously slow pace.

I would like to tell you that I handled this situation calmly and coolly. I would like to tell you that I reacted efficiently and intelligently to this unforeseen disruption.

I would also like to tell you that I’m six feet tall and have a full head of hair, but, sadly, that isn’t true.

And my reaction to the computer malfunction was anything by calm and cool.

I went berserk, furiously taking every, single anger management technique I had ever learned and setting them all ablaze.

I cursed, I ranted, bemoaning the timing of this breakdown. Of all the times to crash on me, this over-inflated calculator has to flip its gears now?

And why the hell did that putz Madoff have to croak on this particular day? Couldn’t he have waited until my computer was working properly?

Even in death he was screwing people over—namely, me.

My computer finally came back from the dead and I knocked out a few quick paragraphs for a breaking news story and shot them to my boss.

I went back after the article was posted a few minutes later and added some more material.

I didn’t hear any complaints from the home office or my neighbors, but I was so ashamed of myself. And I felt physically awful from all that pointless exertion.

I keep writing about how I want to reduce this anger, but like Al Pacino in The Godfather: Part III just when I thought I was out, I pull myself back in!

I did some net-surfing to distract myself from all the self-pity and it was at that moment that my timing was spot on.

As I was looking at Instagram, trying to forget the Madoff madness, I came across a meme one of my friends had posted.

“It’s okay to fall apart sometimes,” it said. “Tacos fall apart and we still love them.”

I immediately started to feel better. Yes, it’s a corny little ditty, but it was exactly the corny little ditty I needed to hear.

Look, I’m on journey to become the best version of myself and when you travel to new places you’re bound to get lost.

When you do, figure out where you went wrong and get back on the road. This was a setback, but I’m not going to let it stop me.

I’m going have my taco and eat it, too.