Introducing 'Ask a Genie'

My week has been spent attempting to untangle the thorny personnel matter I mentioned in the last issue. I thought I'd make it easy on myself, this time, and phone a friend.

I met a genie somewhat recently, with whom I've entered into—call it a business relationship. I can't say more at present, except that I've agreed to certain transactional terms, which I hope will prove advantageous to myself. In getting to know each other, he and I have discovered we share much in common, both in temperament and literary interests. I don't think most newspapers could boast a genie on their staff, so I asked him if he might consider writing the C-O's advice column, and, to my delight, he has agreed. With pleasure, we present the first of our new series—

Ask a Genie

Greetings, readers! 'Tis I, your humble genie. What an honor, to join you as this newspaper's appointed advicemonger. I hesitate to call myself an expert in matters of modern life, yet I have lived a great long while. Here and there, I've taken note of those inclinations that lead one person to a pleasant life, and another to an unpleasant one. Perhaps I have something to offer.

I believe it's the norm, in columns like these, for readers to write in with their questions? If so, I'd be pleased to answer any you have burning in your hearts. Submit them though this form, kindly provided by the publisher. For this column, I'll take a crack at the commonest questions I hear, where wishes are concerned. Let's wade in, shall we?

Why three wishes?
Allow me to clear this up. Except in special cases, genies don't give three wishes; we give one. Yet a wish is allowed to be complicated. 'A prince and a pony' is a wish decidedly different from 'a prince' and 'a pony.' The pony could be for the prince; they'd be hapless without each other. Still, complex wishes get unwieldy for the genie and the wisher. I can see why some genies limit add-ons to three. Once your car can fly, shoot missiles, and dispense ice-cream, your maintenance budget will be imposing, to say nothing of the fuel bill.

Why can't I wish for unlimited wishes?
You can. You shouldn't, but you can.

What makes a wish a good wish?
I remember a summer long ago in Portugal, when two different men asked me to make them rich. The first wanted, mostly, to be richer than his friends. When he was, he let them know it. As you can guess, it was an ill-conceived way to keep his friends. The second was a man who'd never known, in his whole life, what it was to have enough. He told me, after the wish, that he woke up surprised each morning, delighted to find himself on a goose down mattress. Then he'd get up and go to his pantry, and just stand inside it, crying for joy, surrounded by food.  

The difference between a good wish and a bad one is rarely in the wish itself. It's not even in the intent. I'd say the difference is in the skill to navigate what comes after. The flexibility to bend with change, or the integrity to hold constant as things change around you. Generous wishes tend to be the most happy-making. I expect that's no surprise.

Are genies intentionally cruel and ironic?
No. Not usually. Not with your wish. Though I can understand where people get that impression. I don't see it as my job to make you happy (unless you wish for happiness, in which case I'm on the hook for it.) Rather, you name your desired experiment, and I give you the resources. Want to know how you'd fare as a senator? Let's find out. Or, for a different outcome, ask to be a wise and knowledgeable senator. (Hint: You'll be better at the job, but it will hurt more.) It's probably true that I give more guidance to some wishers than others. Even then, my eagerness to help depends on theirs to listen. Malicious compliance only comes into play when a wish is unusually reckless.

Love? Contentment? What should I wish for?
If I gave you contentment, could you keep it?
In the midst of heartbreak, would you recant your wish for love?

Some people are ready for happiness. Some are ready, but happiness isn't ready for them. And some people seem destined to learn hard lessons, as if it were their objective. I'm tempted to say the best wish is for depth of experience, though I'll warn you, the experiences that engender depth aren't especially comfortable.

Ultimately, your best wish may depend on what it is you're doing here, whether to learn something, to achieve something, or to put your feet up and take a load off. Bear this in mind, though: If I grant a wish precisely in line with your purpose, you might still feel like I've tricked you. Or you might feel wonderful. My only constant, general advice is, you know, be careful.

We're excited to answer your questions in future columns! Submit them anonymously here. Or sign in at the website, and post them in the comments. And please do share this column with anyone who ought to see it.