In my family, you can be a bit nuts and get by.  You can have odd collections.  You can even start your own school in South America and call it a pony farm without getting locked up.  What you can’t do is, waste money or be stupid.  If you stupidly waste money . . . Well, no more turkey leg for you!

Because these rules are embedded deep in my EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE SYSTEM, I work very hard to get the best airfares and I do my best to KEEP ANYTHING UNEXPECTED from happening that COSTS MONEY. 

**Commercial Alert** The authoritative woman on the big screen just informed me, “People can tell a lot about you by the way your home looks,” which was a terrifying thought in itself.  But, then she added, “People can tell even more ABOUT YOU by the way your home smells.”  Sheesh.  And me here with Crazy Dog and leftover kung pao shrimp on the counter.

Okay.  Money, fear, and the Windshield Incident.  One fine morning last summer a stone flew off a gravel truck and cracked the windshield on one of the cars, a rather expensive baby I have to fake fitting in with my horseshow buddies.  (Yes, Virginia, expensive cars can manage anxiety. . . at least in those brief moments when you’re pulling up in front of places.)  When the glass cracked, I, of course, loosed my EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE SYSTEM against the unfairness of such a random event.  “Why me, why not someone accustomed to fine cars and accompanying repairs, why?”

ABSOLUTELY SURE, the windshield had to cost a ridiculous   fortune, I held my breath and called the dealership.  I braced . . . and my expectations were fulfilled.  Fourteen hundred seventy dollars.  Aak!  And, unlike my horseshow buddies, my insurance deductible is $1000.  One unfairly spun rock!  A thousand bucks!

I called the insurance company to put in my claim and Miss Typical Stranger Form Filler-Outer took my call.  She began.  “Who was driving when the accident occurred?”  “I was,” I said, “But it wasn’t an accident, it was a rock.” 

 Miss Stranger:  “Where did the accident occur?  What time of day did the accident occur?  Were there passengers in the car when the accident occured?  Was anyone injured?”

Me: “It was a rock, it was a rock, a rock, a rock.”  I sighed tiredly, as if I was really put out to have to fill out a claim.  Wasn’t a thousand dollars punishment enough?

I took in the car.  I explained to the body shop, how I had the insurance and woe is me, and all that.  The guy looked at me a little funny but took the car and the claim number.

I picked it up today, a check in hand.  The cost?  Four hundred and seventy dollars.  There had never been any “fourteen hundred.”  That had been my expectation.  No claim was ever needed.  The rock was in my head. So sure was I that this was a really costly thing that had happened–I created it.

“Which is more important?  The world you can touch?  Or the world you are responding to?”

“How much do your fears design what you see?”