A Lesson On Barware - And Life In General

Friday Happy Hour, my friends, is as much about the barware as it is about the alcohol. Socializing is more enjoyable when you’re sipping from a beautiful glass instead of a long-neck bottle or a Tervis tumbler.

We have accumulated, between purchases of our own and gifts from others, some unique glasses over the years. Here’s one of my favorites. It’s a Nachtmann pilsner glass from a set we bought in Germany a few years ago. This picture doesn’t do it justice. The glass is thin as paper and etched with delicate leafy vines. While we were there we also picked up the wine glasses in this same pattern and some fun stemmed cordial glasses that have a look all their own.

We never consciously intended it to be this way but for several years all of these glasses were more decoration than function. We kept them on display in a cupboard with a glass-insert door, but they never got used. Fingers never wrapped around them. Lips never touched their rims.

A few months ago I happened to glance at them and it suddenly dawned on me how sad it was that glasses like these were not holding beverages and being enjoyed. I’ve been making sure to pull them out as often as possible ever since.

So my Friday Happy Hour advice this week is this: Use the good stuff. An empty glass, no matter how pretty it is, is just taking up space.

The whole thing with the glasses got me to thinking about this old Erma Bombeck missive. It's so, so true:

If I Had My Life To Live Over

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love yous" More "I'm sorrys."

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute ... look at it and really see it ... live it and never give it back.