Wishful Thinking

from the Ever Wonder collection (1996-2001)

You’ll get what you wish for, read the fortune cookie paper tape. A friend sitting next to me said, “You’d better be careful what you wish for.” The incident started me to wondering about wishes and dreams. Remember the stories about wishes you heard as a kid? There was one about a fellow who wished that everything he touched would turn to gold. In the original version the guy was a king called Midas. He found out how hard it was to eat things that were measured in carats. Other stories revolve around three wishes. The person usually wastes his first two wishes on things that don’t really help him. One of the first stories my eldest son was able to read by himself was called, Know When To Stop by Valjean McLenighan. It’s about a poor fellow who is fishing one day and catches a fish. In the first recorded instance of a successful catch and release effort, the poor man is rewarded for his good deed. His wife is not pleased by her husband’s kindness so she sends him back to the waterfront to ask the fish for a wish. They get a new house but the wife gets greedy. She keeps sending her husband back to the magic fish asking for more favours. Each time the fish warns, “Know when to stop.” Finally, the wife says she wants to, “run the show”, forcing the fish to put everything back the way it was because she had wanted too much. The fish’s final comment: “The way to get ahead is to know when to stop.” Is that advice similar to anything you’ve seen in any investment prospectus?

Suppose you had the sense to know when to stop. If you had three wishes, or only just one, would you know how to start? I asked a wise little four-year-old this question once and she said her first wish would be to ask for a gazillion wishes. Crafty! An older friend suggested that the first wish should be to have the wisdom to make the second two wishes count for something important. A modern version of these old fairy tales can be found in advertisements for the lottery corporations. We’re asked to “imagine the freedom” before plunking down our money for a ticket full of dreams. What would we do with a million dollars? Who would we trust to give us advice about such a life changing event?

Fairy tales about wishes are the stuff of childhood. They encourage youngsters to dream. Do adults still need dreams? Are we willing to work to make them reality? Is there such a thing as compulsive wishing? I saw a pair of preteens at the lotto counter the other day. They were busy scratching and wishing. Their age surprised me (isn’t there a law or an age restriction). I wondered what they would be wishing for? How would they spend their money if they won a jackpot? If wishes can be granted without any effort is the prize less-valued?

I didn’t make a wish the day I broke open the fortune cookie. What a chicken eh? I guess I figured that if chance is going to deal me a hand, I’ll take a deep breath and see if I can play it out with some degree of satisfaction. If I wished for a royal flush the game wouldn’t be as much fun now, would it?