Personally, Reinventing Oneself Is a Singularly Good Idea

We hear a lot of talk these days about “reinventing” ourselves.

The concept gets a bad rap, because it’s become synonymous with unprincipled shifting with the wind. Let’s say that Politician A took Position B 10 years ago but now supports Position C. You can count on his critics to say he’s reinvented himself.

Does it ever occur to them that the dude is evolving?

And besides, what’s wrong with reinventing ourselves?

Imagine the marriages that could be saved if either person could reinvent himself or herself.

“Honey, why don’t you just go reinvent yourself?” has a much nicer ring to it than, “Honey, why don’t you just go (bleep) yourself?”

I’ll be the first to admit it, I could use a little reinvention. I mean, it’s not like I’m perfect or anything.

Tell the truth, wouldn’t you like to wake up some morning and just be a different person, with a whole new package of skills, temperament and world view? Wouldn’t it be great to be a brand-new you?

I would reinvent myself as someone who’s handy.

I want to be able to repair cars, rewire stereos, reroute indoor plumbing (if necessary), build a back-yard swing set (although I am a little old for one) and maintain a fine lawn. Those of you who are already handy have no idea what a gift you have.

Handy people see a set of instructions that read like the Dead Sea Scrolls, and they begin licking their chops. People like me feel a queasiness that soon gives way to anger, usually within seconds of beginning the task at hand. Through years of experience, I’m now conditioned to believe I can’t fix or figure out anything that requires mechanical aptitude.

Instead of being handy, I have a lot of useless trivia information in my head. Once upon a time, I may have thought that was a cool trait to have, but as the years pass, it is becoming less and less valuable. Much of the time you can’t even expose your knowledge, because people will just think you’re trying to be a know-it-all. On the other hand, I’ve never known any handyman who wasn’t welcomed when his talents came into play.

I’d also do some reinventing in the personality department. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a highly entertaining person with a delightful mix of appealing traits, but let’s be honest, I could be a whole lot more interesting.

I’d like to reinvent myself into someone who’s a little wackier, a little more spontaneous. I wonder what it’s like to wake up every morning and be Madonna. I think it would be fun to be less responsible and to be someone whom nobody could ever count on. Sure, it would frustrate people, but at least nobody would call you boring.

It wouldn’t hurt to do some reinventing of my temperament. For starters, I’d like to be less judgmental of other people’s stupid mannerisms and behavior, but that’s hard when you possess the certain knowledge that your way of doing things is superior to everyone else’s.

Well, nobody said reinvention was easy.

What’s tantalizing about reinventing yourself is that, theoretically, it is possible to do it. About the only thing you can’t reinvent these days is your height. Everything else is up for grabs.

You know the reinvention business is hot by watching TV. The number of people who are more than willing to reinvent you are almost as numerous as talk-show hosts.

Too fat? Too bald? Too spiritually bereft? Too financially insecure? Too socially awkward? Too unhealthy? Somewhere on that cable dial is a modern-day Edison wanting to tinker with you. Unfortunately, that someone is a person who has already invented himself and is as annoying as hell about it.

Still, we know that most of us aren’t happy with the way we are. The pioneers may have felt the same way, but where were they going to go to reinvent themselves?

By contrast, we have options, and it’s surprising that with all the opportunities for reinvention, we’re not on the verge of perfecting ourselves. You’d think we’d have built the perfect beast by now.

If I weren’t so lazy, I’d probably reinvent myself.

I think it’d be fun to eavesdrop at my own funeral and overhear a friend who hadn’t seen me in years say, “Yeah, he was a nice guy, maybe a little on the bland and smug side” only to have a latter-day friend interject, “Oh, didn’t you hear? He reinvented himself. He turned out to be quite the cutup and completely unpredictable. He was a jerk, but he had a certain style to him.”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday.