Excerpt from "Let It Be Good" - The Special Occasion

Chapter 13 from "Let It Be Good" is all about our weird compulsion to save things for a "special occasion" . . . one that might never arrive.

Chapter 13
The Special Occasion

One of my favorite movies is “Sideways.” It’s funny, it’s poignant, and it has enough uncomfortable scenes to remind us how jacked up our own lives can sometimes be.

There are several memorable moments—Virginia Madsen’s monologue about the life of a bottle of wine was worth the admission price alone. But one quick exchange between her character, Maya, and Miles, played brilliantly by Paul Giamatti, always stuck with me.

Miles has revealed that he has one particular bottle of wine that he’s been saving for a special occasion. It’s a 1961 Chateau Cheval Blanc. When Maya hears this, she tells him:

“You know, the day you open a ’61 Cheval Blanc—that’s the special occasion.”

We’ve built up so many myths regarding special occasions, haven’t we? On the radio show, a listener told me her mother had purchased a wildly expensive set of china, but kept it all stored away in a giant hutch in the dining room. The mom claimed she’d purchased the set for special occasions.

But, as the caller pointed out, in more than 40 years, her mother never once broke out the china. That included the caller’s wedding and her sister’s wedding. Those occasions apparently were not special enough for Mom to soil the fancy dishes.

Another listener heard this story and called to tell us how she splurged on a dress way out of her price range, but so gorgeous that she knew it would be perfect for the special occasion that was sure to come. But it didn’t seem right, she said, for the holiday party she went to, and it wasn’t the right style for the weddings she attended. She said the dress hung in her closet for years, untouched, until she deemed it had fallen out of style.

There was never an occasion “worthy” of the expensive dress. It was never worn before she sold it to a consignment store. Not once.

Chances are you have a similar story, whether it’s a bottle of wine, an item of clothing, or a piece of jewelry. You save it for some mystical “special occasion,” even though we seem to have attached a pretty high standard in order for something to qualify as special.

Remember, for one mom, neither of her daughters’ weddings met the criteria.

The first thing we could do, then, is to define the word. What makes something special? Is it a matter of celebration for something well done? Is it something nostalgic or personally rewarding, like weddings or an anniversary? Does a major promotion qualify?

Is it when we overcome something tragic or potentially tragic? If a family member beats cancer, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that’s a pretty damned special event. Break out the freakin’ china, for crying out loud.

Along those lines:

I read a social media post where someone shared the news of their father’s passing. They mentioned how they’d always planned on taking him on a trip to see his favorite baseball team, because, although he’d been a lifelong fan, he’d never traveled to see a game. It was one of those trips they talked about for years and years.

He died. They’ll never be able to take him to a game.

I don’t know if this person and their dad were waiting for some undefined special occasion to go. But they kept putting it off until the opportunity was gone forever.

This happens with many people when it comes to travel. They long to visit Europe, or South America, or even just somewhere across the country, but there’s always a reason for not going: too busy, too expensive, too many other things on the calendar.

But consider this: While it’s fun to think about traveling after we retire, it’s also good to travel while your health and mobility are still good. Besides, once you retire, you might be on a fixed income. Travel now while you’re in your earning years. Believe me, it will be a special occasion when you step off the plane. Stop putting it off.

There are other angles to consider. For one, could we be waiting for these special occasions because we—even subconsciously—just need something to look forward to?

As I mentioned in the chapter on anticipation, it’s no secret the planning of a trip is often the most thrilling part. Your imagination goes wild thinking about how much fun it will be, what an adventure it will be, and often it doesn’t—or can’t—live up to the expectations.

So perhaps we put things off out of some unconscious fear that it won’t be worth it. Maybe we don’t want to waste the good feeling that accompanies whatever it is we’re saving. What if the wine doesn’t taste as good as we’ve imagined, right?

Then there’s the idea that if we do break down and declare something a special occasion, we somehow “lose” that special thing we were saving.

I know I’ve been guilty of that; thinking that if I opened a bottle of Silver Oak, I wouldn’t have it the next time something special happened.

Which is clearly ridiculous. There are plenty of bottles of wine, even Silver Oak, to be purchased.

We need to rewrite the narrative. The emphasis shouldn’t be on the specific reward associated with the event, but rather on the power of the event itself. Yes, we might be saving something for a special occasion, but whatever that lucky charm is, it shouldn’t overpower the actual reason for breaking it out.

Once again, look at the mother and her beloved china. She may have focused so hard on whether or not it was the “right” time to use it that she—unintentionally, I’m sure—took some of the luster off one of the biggest days of her daughters’ lives. Think of how much more special those dishes would’ve become with memories attached from those happy days.

We’re almost turning this thing we’re saving—wine, dress, jewelry, trip, whatever—into an emblem. We’re building a mystique around this special thing in our lives, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because we don’t value the rest of our lives as much as we should.

Stick with me here.

Most of us see the lives of celebrities and equate those with success, with having “arrived,” whatever the hell that even means. They live in gorgeous homes, they show up at all the major award shows, dressed to the nines, and they’ve never even had a cavity. At least, that’s what we imagine.

We often feel the same way when we see the brag-posts on social media. Friends show off photos of their fabulous vacation, their fabulous new home, their fabulous blah blah blah. That almost seems to be what social media has become. It’s no wonder some people refer to it as BragBook.

Social media is where people go to portray themselves in the most glamorous light possible. Yeah, there are a few photos of people dressed in sweats and without makeup. But how many of those compared to the beach shots?

Between the celebs and the wanna-be celebs on Facebook and Instagram, we’re made to feel like our lives are not enough. We don’t have all the trinkets and all the experiences the beautiful people have. We’re left with a need to define something, anything, as special in our own lives. Special and unique to us.

So what do we do? We grab onto something and label it as the reward for a special occasion. We hold on to it, often with no real expectation of ever deeming an occasion worthy of it, and use it to steer our ship through life.

When I’m finally good enough or successful enough, this will be my reward.

And when we don’t follow through, it could be because we’re just too damned hard on ourselves. We haven’t—to use that term again—arrived. We haven’t earned the reward.

It’s nonsense. You probably have a shit-ton of things you do that deserve a reward. Hell, you could stand a reward just for rounding up your kids and getting them off to school each day. Or for dealing with an impossible boss. Or for surviving an ugly breakup, or the betrayal from a friend.

Life is rarely a cake walk. We don’t need to set the bar impossibly high.

I’ll dive deeper into this idea in the next chapter, “Celebrating Success.”

I spent a lot of time thinking about this, and I truly believe everything we get for a special occasion should have an expiration date. No more of this “someday” bullshit. If you have an important bottle of wine, you have six months to crack it open. Whatever it is, imagine that it will dissolve into dust six months after you acquire it. It won’t be there forever.

If the mom knew her oh-so-important china would crumble into little porcelain pieces, she’d use the damned plates for a pleasant Sunday afternoon roast.

If the woman who called our radio show about the dress had believed it would be a moth-damaged pile of rags in one year, she would’ve worn it to the freakin’ grocery store. And she would’ve LOVED every minute of it.

Maya (the character from “Sideways”) was on the money when she said the special occasion is when you open the wine. If your goal is a satisfied life, it should include making a conscious decision to declare more things to be special occasions.

I promise there’s more wine.

Find your copy of "Let It Be Good" right here. Enjoy!