FAMILY MATTERS
Planning now for that overdue midlife crisis

By Michael C. DeMattos

It seems that many of my friends are going through midlife crises.

After some careful thought, I realized that I was likely due and that a plan was in order.

Researchers have found, not surprisingly, that every midlife crisis occurs approximately at midlife. To figure out when my midlife crisis would occur, I had to first make a guess as to my total lifespan, so I conducted an unofficial life assessment.

First I examined factors for well being. I am physically active, I golf, fish and walk the UH campus each and every day.

My diet is decent though not perfect. I have taken a giant step in the right direction however, by swearing off fast food — for the fifth time.

While I rarely find myself sitting in a pew surrounded by stained glass, I do meditate when I need to relax and will often pray when there is something I want really bad.

I love my job and appreciate those I work with. My family tolerates my neuroses and is generally supportive and loving.

Then there are the health risks.

Like most, my gene pool is a bit murky. Most of the stuff is minor, though there are some doosies like cancer and diabetes. I am generally a scatterbrain, but I can get obsessive with perfectionistic underpinnings. When in full obsessive mode I often ignore important details in other areas of my life.

I am always running late (except for golf and fishing, which shows really poor form) and I rarely get enough sleep or drink enough water.

Based on my fearless, though less than thorough, evaluation, I can expect to live roughly 76 years or just about the national average (knock on wood). With my midlife at 38 years I am late again.

Last week I scribbled this plan on an old napkin. It is a rush job but it is the best I could manage on such short notice.

I do not want a red sports car. I want a four-door truck that can hold the whole family including the dogs and serve as our getaway vehicle. We can head off to a beach we have never visited and douse ourselves in sun and salt.

I want to travel to someplace exotic, like Cleveland or Pittsburgh. I want to see people on their way to work in suits and ties and giggle to myself, knowing that I have it made in shorts and slippers.

I want to have an affair ... with my wife. We can make a date, meet at some dive, and try to pick each other up. She will have men fawning over her, but when she sees me she will let out a nearly silent gasp. She will then brush the posers aside and ask me to dance.

I want a toy train set, one with lots of empty boxcars. At the end of each day I will scribble a note of thanks on a small piece of paper and stuff it through the open side doors. My cargo will be the memories I make each and every day. Whenever I get down, I will stop the train, unload a boxcar and realize what a sweet life I have had.

I do not know whether I will have a midlife crisis or not. I am not sure that I even believe in a midlife crisis. Still, one does not predict, one prepares.

Maybe my preparation will be my prevention. Maybe not. Maybe I can get my truck in candy apple red.

Family therapist Michael C. DeMattos has a master's degree in social work.