What's Next for Me

By Joel Stein

Sure, I'd like to know what's going to happen next in medicine, technology and the arts, but only as it applies to my health, my gadgets and my career. So I tried to find out what I've got coming over the next two years. I started with Char Margolis, Los Angeles' psychic to the stars and the author of Questions from Earth, Answers from Heaven. After a whole lot of time talking about which letters the names of my family and friends start with--which I already knew--she got me to tell her that my wife Cassandra and I don't want any kids in the next two years. "Is she pregnant?" Char asked.

"No," I assured her.

"Are you trying to get pregnant?"

"No."

"Is she trying to get pregnant?"

This wasn't going well. "Be careful. I see a pregnancy coming. I think Cassandra wants kids. Be smart about it." I got the feeling psychics usually don't deal with people with healthy marriages.

Char told me that my grandmother Mama Ann was going to fall and break something. And that my mom should get herself checked for cancer. And that my co-worker Romesh Ratnesar had "success around him," which I think just meant she followed our Iraq coverage. Char told me, three times, that despite the fact that neither Cassandra nor I ski, "I see you two on a ski trip." And Char said that if my friend Adam Sachs has any premonitions about a terrorist attack to get the hell out of New York City. I foresee Adam spending much of the next two years messing with my head.

For me, she thought that I would sell a TV show and buy a house in L.A. but that I shouldn't leave my job yet. "I think you really want to move from TIME, but I don't know if it's time just yet. You must make a decent living there, so just use them," she said. Some predictions might be ruined by publishing them.

To get my incipient TV career going, Char said, I need to network. "This is the time to start schmoozing," she told me. Then she said she had some TV deals of her own going and suggested I call her friend Brad Bessey, a producer at Entertainment Tonight who was looking for a host for a spin-off. Her networking predictions were happening very fast.

I was pretty happy with Char's predictions, which sounded like a pretty good deal for me, though not so much for Mom, Mama Ann and the greater New York City area. Still, I'm thinking either Vail or Whistler.

Wanting to get more specifics about my new career opportunities, I called Richard A. Smith, a senior recruiter for Spencer Stuart and a co-author of The 5 Patterns of Extraordinary Careers. Smith thought having my weekly column on the back page of Entertainment Weekly replaced two months ago by Stephen King's might not be permanent. "I don't think the door is closed. As companies start staffing up again, organizations are saying, 'Who were the best people we had and let's get them back,'" he said. "You were beat out for brand recognition over real talent," he said. I was liking this guy.

Feeling secure, I checked in with Dr. Robert Samuelson, my primary physician. He was pretty sure I wouldn't die in the next two years, which was good, since I had the big Entertainment Tonight gig coming. But baldness, Samuelson told me, was definitely coming. "Despite the Rogaine, it will progress. It might slow the rate, but it won't stop it," he said. "You're going to lose the hair on your head and get it in your nose and ears." Despite all this, my skin wasn't going to clear up. "If you're still getting pimples now, you'll probably get them at 34." I was starting to understand why some people go to psychics more often than to doctors.

Knowing far too little about Greek mythology, I asked Cassandra what she thought I had in store, without telling her what the others had said. She began by assuring me that she didn't want kids. "Not in two years," she said. Then she added "probably." When pressed, she said, "I mean I could accidentally on purpose get pregnant." Eerie. "But I doubt it," she said. "I'm too lazy to get pregnant." This was not getting better.

Cassandra subtly hinted that we'd likely move out of Manhattan. "If we don't move within the next two years," she said, "I might kill myself, kill you or set this apartment on fire." Char didn't warn me about this. Cassandra also foresaw some large expenses. "I see us buying a house. Two cars. Basic furnishings for the house. Like a Duxiana mattress. And a Marc Jacobs handbag." I need to stop bringing home IN STYLE. And she thinks that within two years I'll be a real jerk: "I see you becoming a Hollywood slickster guy. I see you saying 'babe' a lot. I see you contemplating having cheap sex with cheesy, fake-breasted women." With predictions like these, I think Cassandra would make serious money as a psychic.

But most important, she thought I would look O.K. "People in your family age well," she said. "I'm confident that the Rogaine is working." I really do love her.