Tales from Timnath: Of Course I Have Regrets!

Before I was a columnist in Northern Colorado, I wrote for another publication where I was sometimes tasked with interviewing community members about their vocations and avocations. Given the intended low-key nature of these pieces (i.e., fluff in journalistic parlance), I’d been coached by my editor to not appear skeptical or interrogating, but to merely take the interview subject’s word for… whatever. In other words, listen, smile, write it down, and make the subject look good.

One of these interviews was with an entrepreneur about his latest venture. Near the end of the interview, I asked him if he had any regrets or wished he’d done anything differently with his undertaking. His response was that everything turned out perfectly. He then doubled down by saying that he had no regrets about anything he’d ever done. I kept a straight face (so I could keep my job), but his answer surprised me nevertheless and told me more about him than any of his previous responses. I mean, who doesn’t have regrets or is so arrogant or insecure not to acknowledge them?

Remembering that interview got me thinking about some of my own regrets:

I regret not telling my late mother and father every day of my adult life what great role models they were for me.

When I retired, I got involved in a number of volunteer community service endeavors. I regret not giving back sooner, but I do regret raising my hand when the homeowners’ association sought a board president.

I regret not getting a dog sooner. While I opposed adopting our first dog, I led the charge with my wife for the second one (but maybe not the third, since the bed got much too crowded).

I regret that so much of my professional career, and even some subsequent volunteer service, required uphill battles, but I don’t regret always doing the right thing by not leaving well enough alone or by not going along to get along.

I regret not having more close friends, but I don’t regret having the high expectations that are necessary for them to earn that designation.

I regret certain collaborations, not because of misguided motivation, but because of misplaced trust.

I regret waiting over 50 years to finally learn to play the drums and join a band. My only regret now is that I still haven’t mastered the drum solo from Iron Butterfly’s 17-minute “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.”

I regret all the times sports training and competition have injured me, but I don’t regret the effort.

And when I’m coaching sports, I regret that I don’t have more patience, but I don’t regret only wanting to volunteer my time to those who listen and try.

I regret not using my tickets for the 1973 Pink Floyd concert in Pittsburgh, and I almost regretted using my tickets for Led Zeppelin in Pittsburgh five weeks later (but that’s a tale for another column).

Phil Goldstein is in his 7th year writing Tales from Timnath for North Forty News. Phil is a 16-year Timnath resident who is finally using his West Virginia University journalism degree after getting sidetracked 53 years ago. The views expressed herein are Phil’s only. Contact him with comments on the column at NFNTimnath@gmail.com .

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