I stopped into my favorite charity shop and watched a volunteer pull one of those grow-tomatoes-upside-down kits out of a bag. A botanical reinvention built on the premise that plants — like people, corporations and planets — can be reinvented to instantly adapt in ways that are painless, prompt, productive and profitable.
Yes and no. Reinvention is systemic. It’s metric is survival. That tomato, for example, knows it’s supposed to grow up, so you’ll find it straining to turn itself upside upside down to be rightside up. This can be distressing to watch if you have rigid ideas of how things should be, but that’s the trade off.
I’m a boomer, raised on pap spun out by that evil genius of happy endings, Walt Disney. Did he know he was shaping an entire generation’s psychology? All those fairy godmothers, princes and ball gowns? I would have loved to have seen him locked into a joint script-writing project with the Brothers Grimm. The result would be very 21st century.
When Plan A and indeed B and C don’t work, I try to give myself a break. I realize I’m tapping my foot in anticipation of a fast, inside-out extreme makeover — fewer wrinkles, better real estate and clients who hang on my every word. Fascinating opportunities are out there. We just have to trash the old script — and pen a new one.
So, heave ho. We know what to do. Read the pundits. Keep moving forward. Cheerfully. It’ll soon be tomato season.