My mother was a stereotypical parent in one respect—there was no one that I dated who seemed to meet with her approval. The relationships that did get “the nod” from her were always doomed to failure. Admittedly, most of the ones that failed to receive her approval also met a bad end.

Once, when Mother was in “flat-out terms” giving me her unsolicited opinion of one of my female acquaintances, without doubt the one Mother most despised, she hissed, “If only I could be a genie for a day!”

There have been many stories written about genies. It seems to be a common theme that the genie grants three wishes. Almost always, the first two wishes, no matter how well-intentioned, end in disaster, and the last remaining wish has to be used to undo the messes resulting from the first and second.

So, what would you wish if you could have your very own genie? Would you wish for someone you could share your entire life with who would leave you alone most of the time? If so, what might you get? (Possibly an introverted prison cell mate.)

Would you want to be fourteen, perhaps eighteen, and ruin your life differently per new ideas? What might you get? (Possibly a new address in deepest, darkest Africa.)

Would you want a new career? What might you get? (Probably a job you would despise with very low paycheck amounts.)

You might wish that just once, your username and password prompt would say, "Close enough." What might you get? (Access to a computer virus that would leave you penniless and deeply in debt.)

Would you, like Picasso, wish to live like a poor man, only with lots of money? What might you get? (Possibly a long-lasting, terminal disease for which the medical treatment would cost an astronomical amount of money, requiring you, in effect, to live in poverty.)

Would you like, the next time you are about to receive a ticket, to receive a warning? What might you very possibly get? (A highway patrolman who would say, “Warning! You want a warning? O.K., I’m warning you not to do that again, or I’ll give you another ticket.”

Consider the plight of a poor soul who experienced failure with wishes from his genie: “Just look at me! I grew up with Steve Jobs, Johnny Cash and Bob Hope. Not only couldn’t you grant me my wishes to my satisfaction, but now there are no jobs, no cash, and no hope!”

“It could have been worse,” the genie calmly replied.

“Sure! Next, you’ll be telling me that something’s happened to Kevin Bacon!”

“Exactly!” exclaimed the genie. “Now you’re catching on!”

To close, Dear Reader, I’ll tell you about my experience with fortune. One day when I was in afternoon bus wait in high school, a lovely classmate predicted my future with tarot cards. She told me three things. First, I would be successful. (I leave that to my friends and acquaintances to judge.) Second, I would have practically everything I would ever want. (So far, pretty good with that one.) Finally, I would have a long love life. (Well, I do love spaghetti, turkey and dressing, chicken and dumplings . . .).

ANSWER TO QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 50

Fill in the blank: Time is a great healer, but it’s a lousy _______________. (ANSWER: Time is a lousy beautician.)

QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 51

What happened to the guy who sued the airline for losing his luggage? (See next week’s article in historicunioncounty.com for the answer.)