The Road Not Taken, The Mistake Not Made

As incomprehensible as this is to me right now, today could have been my 30th wedding anniversary. Years before I met my wonderful wife on the other side of the country, I was engaged. My first fiancée and I were supposed to be married on September 19, 1992.

The engagement ended in May and she moved out in June. (We had moved in together in January, 1992.) In all honesty, I think we were engaged because we were in our early 30s and thought it was time to be married. I liked that she was a bright person (she had a graduate degree in a science discipline) who liked sports. I think she liked the fact that I worked for the Orioles.

I consider myself very lucky not to have married this person, no offense to her intended–seriously. My wonderful wife, to whom I have been married for 23 years, is the kindest, cutest, sweetest and most wonderful person in the world. Yes, I used the word “wonderful” twice in the same sentence. So sue me…

We have much control over life outcomes. My first fiancée and I could have succumbed to inertia and married. Instead, we realized that was not the best decision we could make. The problem with making decisions is that while all decisions have consequences, we don’t always know what they are or will be when we make them.


No, I did not watch Oklahoma roll over Nebraska on Saturday, the first game after now former head coach Scott Frost was fired by Huskers’ AD Trev Alberts. As only Nebraska can, they waited one more game to fire the worst defensive coordinator in D1 football, Erik Chinander.

Despite the whining by Huskers’ fans about bad luck–last season they were the only NCAA football team in history to lose nine games in a season each by fewer than 10 points–most of the misfortunes of the Nebraska football program are self-inflicted. Like I wrote, we have much control over life outcomes.

Since probably none of you reading is a Huskers football fan (I’m not really one, anymore, and haven’t been for awhile) I won’t bore you with details. Suffice to say that decision-making at the top level of the athletic department has been more about lurching from one extreme to another instead of devising a sound plan and trying to stick to it.


The ordeal is over; no, repairs to the Z06 are not complete. I am no longer the owner of the car!

On Saturday, I received a text from a person in the finance department at the Ford dealership from whom I purchased the Mustang. He said my wonderful wife and I had to re-sign a few documents. Even though Arizona is a community property state, our cars are all titled differently. Her Corvette convertible is titled only in her name, the Cascada is titled only in my name, but the Corvette–and its successor, the Mustang–are titled in both of our names.

Unprompted by anyone, I thought it would be a good idea to take the title for the Z06 with us yesterday (yes, they are open on Sunday) and to find an opportunity to offer the dealership the title. The opportunity presented itself, the finance department was happy to receive the title even though the work has still not been completed and the Mustang is now fully paid for and then some.

Yes, I had always been surprised that the Ford dealership let me drive the Mustang home even though I still owned the car that was to be used as payment. This is the second time this dealer has come through for us. We sold the Cadillac ATS to them in April and they paid us substantially more than the local Cadillac dealer offered. If I sell the Cascada, a distinct possibility, they will get first dibs at buying it.

The Mustang is mine with no strings attached! I don’t care how long it takes for the Z06 repairs to be completed! I still need to get the license plate from the Corvette as it will be the Mustang plate and, of course, I need to retrieve a few personal items. However, I feel as if a giant cloud has lifted. Halle-frickin’-lujah!








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