Is it time to change our lives?

Holiday season '09-10, I think

I got caught in one of those "use 'em or lose 'em" predicaments over the holiday -- you know, personal leave days that have to be taken or the folks in Human Resources shake their crooked fingers at you. Sitting home between Christmas and New Year's and buried under an inversion, I got caught in the "what's on TV in the daytime" trap.
I can tell you now what's on daytime TV. Ads. Period.
In the course of one made-for-TV movie that I drearily watched, three consecutive commercials caught my attention. One was for a weight-loss program, and they promised to "change my life." Right after that one came a diabetic supply source that had a testimonial that said using this service "changed my life." The third ad in the block was a technical school specializing in high-tech web-geeky stuff, even for those who didn't finish high school, and, sure enough, the guy said he "changed his life" and so could I.
Listen close and see how often this phrase is overused in promotion. In the course of three minutes, I was told to change my life three times. I had no idea people's lives needed so much changing. I wondered for a moment if I did two of the three things -- say, I went to tech school and then lost weight -- if my life would actually be the same; whether two about-face changes would bring me back to the same spot and cancel each other out, like Yogi Berra used to explain when he changed course of action: "I did a complete 360."
Change your life. Is this really a good plan? How many of us would change who we are -- really change -- if we could?
I've read that often when a passenger train in Europe has an accident or a severe derailment and when numbers and lists and tickets and such are compared, often a person will "come up missing," the assumption finally being made that they took advantage of the situation to "change their life"-- to start over, to leave the scene and try a "do-over." As only one example, just last year a Rice University student's car was found in California, with books on the front seat about "assuming a new identity," and he's still "missing."
Changing one's name is just one aspect of changing who you are. I've known people who legally changed their name -- not all that easy, really -- but they didn't change their identity by doing so. The New York Times recently reported that the rate of Iraqis changing their names has jumped significantly recently. It's mostly Iraqis who want to drop "Saddam" as a first name (kind of tainted now, even though quite common) and others whose tribal name pinpoints them as Sunni or Shiite and they want to avoid sectarian violence or revenge. The illegal ID business is bustling in Baghdad.
There are Web sites -- believe it or not -- that will help you assume a whole new identity. The opening paragraph on one site says, "Many people are changing their identity because they know that it's the only really effective way to walk away from your past financial and personal problems…" They promise a full set of identity documents and a 191-page guide to six "identity changing systems."
Another site is titled "How to Reinvent yourself and change your identity." Interestingly enough, both talk about the importance of finding and using a local cemetery. This is called paper-tripping, I learned. One site warns prospects to be careful with paper-tripping, stating, "… problem is, just how many other new identity seekers have visited that same gravestone before you?"
Give me a break! Wandering in cemeteries to get a new lease on life? What's wrong with this picture? If, in fact, this happens, and if it were to happen to me and my headstone, allow me to warn all prospective paper-trippers that I will get special license from St. Peter himself to haunt the everliving heck out of you. I will make it my life's, er, ah, my death's work to torment what little soul you might have. Got it?
As you approach a new year, I hope you feel the same as I do -- yes, we all need a few changes, a few improvements in our lives. But changes are not re-inventing or bailing out or causing deep pain to those close to you by disappearing, or paying for a new name from Guido on his Web site.
If you want to change your identity, start small. Join a gym, get a new hairdo, visit with someone in a confessional, get your medications checked and balanced, buy a DayTimer, drive to work along a new route every day, don't vote straight-party ticket next time, just to see what it feels like. Get to know your neighborhood better. Give up smoking. Ride a bike. Stop drinking pop. No snacks after 8:30 (that one's for me). Send more thank-you cards. Listen to something besides Celine Dion. Put a quarter in a jar every time you say a naughty word -- and let someone else decide what your naughty words are.
And, maybe, just maybe, we can all get comfortable enough in our own skin that we would fight the notion of changing our lives, regardless of where we get our diabetic supplies.