What's the Plan, Man?

I've never been much of a planner. This is not to say that I've never set long-term goals, or accomplished anything. I have. It's just that, well, it's not something I necessarily like all that much. This is somewhat odd because for a long time I wanted to be an urban planner. I was actually quite taken with this idea and in fact took a couple graduate courses in plannning. People that knew me laughed about this.

I quit after an off-duty cop hit my car and refused to take any responsibility for it. He was in my class. Yes, I know that makes no sense, but that's what I did.

I've been around planners a lot in my life. Mom was a planner. Most of the women I've dated, including my current girlfriend, have been planners. I'm grateful for their facility in this area. My skills lay elsewhere.

I've noticed oftentimes relationships form between two people who are planners. I envy these couples. They have mortgages (that they are paying off) and money in the bank. When they call each other, they already know where each person is calling from. They often know what they will be eating for dinner, sometimes hours ahead of time. They seem peaceful to me.

Relationships between nonplanners, like myself, who I prefer to call improvisers typically don't happen unless both parties are, let's say, crack addicts. The reason being, unless there is some driving, compulsive, addictive process going on, the sheer disorganization of the couple precludes both showing up at the same place at the same time.

Now obviouly I'm exagerating and, like many dimensions of human behavior, planning-nonplanning is a continuum. But, the interplay of these forces and the individuals who embody them does raise some interesting questions:

• Where are my socks? (improviser)
• Where will we retire? (planner, 26 yrs. old)
• What will we have for dinner tonight? (my mom, usually before we finish breakfast)
• Are we flying to Florida tonight or next week? (improviser speaking to his planner spouse)
• We're flying tomorrow, your socks are packed and don't forget we're meeting with the lady from that retirement community at 1:00. (you get the idea).

I love planners. More than that, I need them. They need me as well, because planners have a tough time when the plan runs into roadblocks or evaporates entirely. All I can say is, it isn't pretty. But those are the times I shine.

Because I am rarely saddled with a vision or a plan, I am open to all sorts of novel solutions - most of which have no chance of working, yet some do. I also tend to expect things will go wrong. I'm often not dissapointed, unlike my planner friends and lovers who seem, to a greater or lesser degree, devastated at this prospect.

The deeper phiosophical questions run to:

• What do we really have control over?
• What is the effect of human action?
• Is there destiny, and can we change it?
• Is any of this worth worrying about?

It is true that I occasionally flip out when something I expect to happen doesn't. I think this happens because planning is my inferior function, so in those very limited areas where I want there to be some measure of consistency, I am highly peeved when it evaporates. Like when my stable, consistent planner girlfriend, isn't, for instance.
I ponder over what makes certain people become planners and others improvisers. Will we someday find the relevant gene sequence (well organized I'm sure) that causes some people to make reservations weeks in advance and others wind up sleeping in their cars in rest areas? Does growing up in an unstable environment cause some to embrace the chaos and others to fight against it, Blackberry feverishly clutched in their strained fingers?

Hmmm, I just remembered, I'm hungry. What in the world should I should have for dinner?