My eight year old granddaughter knows to rip open a Fortune Cookie for the message and discard the cookie fragments. A half dozen cookies remain on the kitchen counter. I plan to savor them over the next several days. But in the morning I find the six unwrapped cookies floating on top of the garbage. I fish them out as always when good food is wasted. I confront the culprit. My wife is not only not embarrassed but thinks I should be. What kind of person tosses away their fortune? I quickly open all six cookies, seeking my fortune. I am a little disappointed to find they are sayings rather than predictions: (1) A problem clearly stated is a problem half solved [False: my wife and I have both clearly stated the garbage problem in ways that preclude any solution]; (2) A smooth sea never made a skillful mariner [Neither has a Seattle Mariner owner or general manager]; (3) We judge others by actions; we judge ourselves by intentions [My intention of not wasting good food goes under appreciated]; (4) Wealth is the ability to fully experience life [Clearly a rationalization for wealthy restaurant customers]; (5) Whatever your life’s work is, do it well [Scary when your life’s work is getting wealthy at the expense of others]; (6) Be a winner [I finally found the one meant for me!]. I tried a bite of the last cookie but it tasted like garbage.