I’ve been meaning to write a self-help book (they say the money’s good) for a number of years. It’s to be called ‘The Other Guy’ and the premise is simple: Do what the you in the future would want you to do right now. This first came to mind driving back into New York City one night.
It was late, and I was tired, but I noticed there was hardly any gas left in the tank (actually and metaphorically). “I’ll get some tomorrow,” I said to myself, sitting at a light on 77th Street. But then I thought about how jammed the traffic would be and how close I was right now to a gas station and while every selfish fiber of my sleepy self wanted to blow it off, I went and filled the tank. Next day The Other Guy was happy.
The thing of it at this point, all these years later, is that I have hundreds of everyday examples similar to this and while I haven’t written the book (yep, Today’s Guy wishes Yesterday’s Guy had buckled down already) the concept still helps.
Decent-minded people would say it’s just the equivalent of a work ethic or a conscience, do the right thing, but sometimes such fine notions don’t get the job done in the immediately selfish moment. Why am I thinking about this all again now? Christmas lights.
I like Christmas, but I’m not fond of all the tasks and errands that attend it. Errands are the dull handmaiden to the beautiful bride that Christmas can be. Even worse are the after-the-holiday chores in the service of all the fun that other Other Guy had. Especially defrocking the tree (“you’re tall, you do it!”) and then struggling with the endless strands of twinkly lights that seemed so vital just a few days before.
So you pull them off, twisting and cursing, and, caught amongst all the needles, find the old cardboard box and shove them in, EXCEPT if you do it that way eleven months later you’re going to be faced with an hour of untangling and a bad feeling about the world and its malevolent complexity.
Take a moment or two. Make an investment which offers a real return. De-light the tree and carefully wrap up the strands into loose. well-trained snakes. Feel somewhat amazed at your maturity. Give your future you a manly upnod and move into the New Year. Ready for whatever opportunities The Other Guy’s offered next.