My beloved wife, Amy, came to an intersection in an unfamiliar section of town. Was she supposed to turn left or right? She signaled left and then rolled forward several feet. No, she braked and then signaled right and started to turn. No, she braked again and just sat there, looking first one way and then the other, frozen with uncertainty in the middle of the intersection. Suddenly a booming amplified voice shook the whole car: “Make a Decision!” There, in her rear view mirror was a no-longer-so-patient member of New Canaan’s finest, holding up his squad car microphone. That’s a crisis of decision.