Sometimes I think the difference between Young Me and Old Me boils down to patience.
As a young man, patience was not my strength. If I had a problem, I would attack it with all my energy. But if that initial burst of effort didn't solve the problem, then I'd try to ignore it.
Mark KennedyAs I've gotten older, I've learned to back away from some problems and let time do the heavy lifting.
For example, embracing patience in mid-life has opened my mind to the awesome powers of duct tape. Y'all, I have come to believe that duct tape is the best financial planning tool ever invented.
Check it out: When our poodle-spaniel mix, Boise, chewed a silver-dollar-sized hole in our leather couch last year, I patched it with a square of black duct tape.
Tres chic, right?
Ditto when a large package, protruding from a mailbox around Christmastime, splintered the passenger-side mirror on my wife's Toyota; she got busy with some clear, plastic tape and patched it back together. I was so proud.
To me, these duct-tape solutions represent prudence and delayed gratification -- two keys to a happy life.
We had a new (and better) couch delivered just last week, and a replacement mirror for my wife's car is sitting at Capital Toyota, waiting to be installed. Rather than rush to buy a new couch and car mirror with a credit card just before Christmas, though, we waited until we had the January cashflow to pay for those goods out of pocket, preserving our family's commitment to low-debt living.
I am certain Young Me would never have driven a car with a body part attached with tape. And there was a time when a torn couch cushion would have driven me crazy. I remember Young Me once polishing and repolishing a glass vase that had developed a microscopic scratch that was nearly invisible to the naked eye.
Patience also comes in handy when dealing with family issues.
Recently, when one of my sons and I had some communications issues, I decided not to force the situation, but to back off and think. Overnight, it occurred to me that our issues were about control: his emerging need to express a degree of independence and my need to be a strong dad capable of imposing order.
I decided to give him three of my business cards, each with "wild card" powers that he could use to trump a small parental decision that didn't involve safety issues or academic performance. That way, he had some power over noncritical decisions, and I could yield occasionally without losing face. It was a classic win-win solution.
Last week, he burned one of his cards, and a potentially tense situation was immediately diffused.
Patience is even useful in the faith realm. In a Sunday School discussion last week, I shared my nagging view that biblical descriptions of heaven could use an update. I suggested we needed some new metaphors to describe heaven that go beyond pearly gates, streets of gold and endless worship service. Having grown up in an era of all-night singings in rural churches, I can make the case that an "eternal singing extravaganza" might be overrated.
Together, we concluded that part of religious faith is trusting that heaven will be as glorious as it needs to be. In other words, if I need high-speed Internet and Super Bowls to be happy in heaven, I'll have them. And, if I'm being honest, I'd also admit I hope heaven has a supply of duct tape.
Because, to me, duct tape represents aspirational happiness. And, let's face it, we're all torn couches, souls with holes. Reminding ourselves eternally about how those holes were repaired by grace will never grow old.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645. Follow him on Twitter @TFPCOLUMNIST. Subscribe to his Facebook updates at www.facebook.com/mkennedycolumnist.