Pardon My Progress

I walked up to the ticket counter, took out my credit card, and pointed to the price list.

“One adult and one senior, please” I said.

The time was earlier this month and the place was the fabulous Norton Simon Museum in Los Angeles, where I was visiting my uncle and his wife.

My uncle had stayed home on this day, so it was just my aunt and me.

Now when I’m out with family, I tend to be the youngest in the crowd—unless my nieces are around, so I didn’t think there was anything unusual about my request until my aunt pointed to the price list.

“It says ‘Seniors over 62,’” she said.

Yeah, I know what it says. So?

And then everything stopped—except time. I turned 62 in May, so that means…I am now eligible for the senior discount?

In the immortal words of W.C. Fields, “Mother of Pearl!”

Don’t get me wrong: I’ll gladly take any discount I can get, but I’d rather take three decades off my age than 3 bucks off a museum ticket.

The sign was a little spooky, but the next day I found another message while accompanying my uncle on a trip to Home Depot.

While we were there, I picked up a pair of work gloves that I can use in my boxing class in lieu of hand wraps and I noticed a sticker next to the price tag.

“Now even stronger,” it said.

Yes, I may be eligible for the senior discount at the museum, but I’m no fossil. I'm stronger than ever.

One night we were having dinner at the grand Langham Hotel, a sprawling, century-old place with an incredible history.

While working by one of the conference rooms, I noticed a sign outside the door announcing that this particular room was closed for repairs.

Oh, yeah, I thought, it’s the standard “Pardon our appearance” sign. But it didn’t say that.

I looked again and saw that it actually said, “Pardon our progress.”

See that? The sign acknowledged the inconvenience of the construction, but it also declared that the shutdown was for a good cause: change, improvement…progress.

Sign In, Please

Imagine applying that concept to our own lives. We may not be perfect, we may not have achieved all our goals, but as long as we keep working at it, we’re making progress.

One day we were driving by a storefront church near my uncle’s home and I spotted what I think was the important sign of all.

It was just six simple words: Yesterday is heavy. Put it down.

That’s it. Two short sentences that can make life so much better if we just do what they say.

We’re coming up to a new year and I’ve been trying to monitor my thoughts more carefully, applying the old “detach and observe” routine that Fred the Shrink told me about.

I’m really shocked to see how much time I spend in the past—and not just the past, but the crappy parts of my history: old injuries, insults, mistakes, missteps and missed opportunities.

I’m either bemoaning the stuff in my rearview mirror or trying to revise it, never accepting the undeniable truth that the past cannot be changed.

It’s done.

I recently watched a sermon by Joel Osteen—I know a lot of people don’t like the guy, but good advice is worth heeding, no matter what the source.

The message was to use our energy for our destiny—not our history.

We need to drop yesterday’s heavy metal and devote our energy to reaching our goals.

“You can’t work on them both,” he said.

Of course, it’s easy to say forget the past. Phrases like “get over it” sound great, until reality steps up and hits you right between the eyes with a frying pan.

It takes work to change your thinking. It’s hard, it’s frustrating, and it can seem downright pointless some days of the week.

But signs can at least point us in the right direction. We try not to get lost, but when we do, we have to find our way back.

I saw one more important sign during my recent SoCal sojourn. While walking around The Grove shopping area, I came upon an empty store.

The sign in the window could’ve said “For Rent”, or “Under Construction,” or “What the Hell are You Looking At, Numb Nuts?” But it didn’t.

This sign had a message that I want to apply now and toward 2020, which is less than two weeks away.

“Something Wonderful Coming Soon,” it said.

Damn right.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Blessings for the Solstice, or whatever you celebrate.