My wife, Deadspin, and many others argue that teleportation is the greatest of all the super powers.
Teleportation would be an amazing super power to possess. I would love to be able to teleport from location to location instantly.
I think it may be the third best super power.
But objectively, the best super powers, in this order, are:
All others - including teleportation - pale in comparison.
Matthew Inman of The Oatmeal tweeted this last week:
““Hey, this is Matt’s voicemail. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you years from now when you learn to stop leaving voicemails””
I'm so very tempted to use it as my outgoing message.
I won't even have to change the name.
You know what I mean when I say precious. Right?
It's when you write something on social media about your perfect Sunday afternoon with your highly attentive husband and your GMO-activist toddlers and tag it with something like #weekend or #bliss or #joyofparenting or (please don't) #yummy
It's when you extoll the many virtues of your home grown Swiss chard or say the phrase "farm to table" more than once or twice in a single decade.
It's when you post a photo on Instagram of the creamy heart that your Argentinian barista designed in your no-fat organic soy latte along with some reference to the restored Amazonian teak inlays in your independent coffee shop's granite countertops.
It's when you speak in hushed, reverent tones about time spent with your private yoga guru or the unique tonality of your meditation chime and how it has completely changed your life.
Precious. Right? Annoyingly, disgustingly, offensively precious.
Four rules about being precious about your stuff:
I read a post on Medium entitled 25 Things I Wish I Had Known 10 Years Earlier.
I hated the post. It was filled with platitudes, cliches, and enormous, nonspecific ideas like "Struggle is good" and "Exercise daily" and "Be grateful."
Yuck. I prefer specificity. Things that are more easily understood and applied. Strategies that can be utilized immediately.
Twenty-five is also far too round a number. It makes me think that one or two items were added or left off the list for the sake of the round number.
So I made my own list. It's much better.
_______________________________
1. Never be afraid to talk to the prettiest girl in the room.
2. Always talk to the prettiest girl in the room.
3. The prettiest girl in the room is not necessarily the prettiest person.
4. Wait to purchase your ideal home. There is no reason to rush into such a large purchase. Cherish the joys of apartment living.
5. Dance often. Dance to songs you both love and loathe. Just dance.
6. Stay in touch with your childhood friends. Visit whenever possible.
7. Reasonable people can disagree.
8. Don't gossip. Nothing makes you look uglier.
9. Fold ace-queen unless you're playing shorthanded.
10. Don't rely on your friends to teach you golf. Seek the help of professionals.
11. Delegate relentlessly.
12. When in doubt, never wash any item of clothing owned by a woman.
13. When it comes to parenting, diapers are not a big deal. Car seats are a huge pain in the ass.
14. The things that annoy you most about your children will pass quickly and be replaced by new annoying behaviors.
15. Do the thing you are thinking about doing right now. Today. Thinking about it is simply fear masquerading as thoughtfulness.
16. When you're under attack, remember that most people are better, smarter, and more courageous than you think. Despicable people - as destructive as they can be - are few and far between.
17. Living well is the best revenge. If that doesn't work, bide your time. You can always ruin your enemies' lives at a later date. Think sneak attack.
18. Cherish those moments in your work life when your bosses and coworkers are in perfect harmony. They will not last forever.
19. Always assume that children are more capable than you think.
20. Those who tell you that your child will inevitably end up sleeping in your bedroom for many, many nights are simply weak-willed invertebrates who have allowed small people to rule their lives.
21. Make every attempt to befriend - or at least endear yourself to - your friend's spouse.
22. If you want to be considered the expert at something, declare yourself to be the expert. People will believe you, and then it will be true.
23. Answer the phone every time a parent calls.
24. People with large, fragile egos are the most dangerous of all people. Be wary of them.
25. Experienced parents who warn expecting mothers and fathers about all the pitfalls and struggles of parenting are self-loathing cretins who must be silenced whenever possible.
26. Attend live sporting events whenever possible. Watching from home is convenient, but convenience has never resulted in lasting memories.
27. It is not difficult to drive into and around New York City.
This simple rule - which I live by on a daily basis - has brought me great happiness and peace and allowed me more time to do other, more meaningful things.
I offer it to you:
If someone is experiencing good fortune or unexpected luck, and it comes at no expense to me or anyone for whom I care, I celebrate that person's luck and fortune and feel no resentment toward that person whatsoever.
This is a rule that few people seem to embrace. I live in a world where people are constantly demanding equity in all things, even when the application of equity would only serve to hurt someone else and not change the life of the person complaining in any way.
A few examples:
if my friend and I are speeding down the highway in separate cars, driving side by side. A police officer pulls me over for speeding and issues me a ticket while allowing my friend to drive on without any consequences, I am happy for my friend. I may be upset about my ticket, but it has nothing to do with my friend's good fortune, and I will not begrudging him of his good fortune.
_____________________________
If my boss attends my weekly production meeting and nitpicks all of my ideas and my team's progress, but then she misses my colleague's weekly production meeting because she left the office to attend her daughter's dance recital, I am happy for my colleague, who managed to avoid a hassle that I was forced to endure.
I'm not whining about equity. I am celebrating my colleague's lucky break.
If the boss continues to attend my weekly production meetings for the next two months while repeatedly missing my colleague's meetings for a variety of reasons - illness, car trouble, meteor strike, narcolepsy, disinterest - I remain happy for my colleague his good fortune. I feel no resentment toward my colleague or even my boss for the lack of equity in the situation. I may be annoyed with the boss for her repeated interference in my meetings, but that annoyance has nothing to do with my colleague's good fortune. I am only happy for him and make no effort to demand equity, as it would only ruin my colleague's good fortune.
_____________________________
If I have 26 fifth grade students, and the second grade teacher across the hall only has 16 students, I am not angry at parent-teacher conference time that my colleague has five fewer hours of conferencing that I do. I may be angry about having 26 students in my class in general, but that has nothing to do with my colleague's good fortune or the lack of balance between our classrooms. I am only happy for her good luck and small class size.
If I then discover that while I am required to provide parents with a 30 minute parent teacher conference, the principal in another elementary school in my district only requires her teachers to conduct 15 minute conferences, I am not angry that those teachers have less work on their plate than me, nor am I clamoring for equity from my own principal. I may wish for shorter conferences (in reality, I don't), but I remain happy for my colleagues in the other school regardless of my position, because demanding that they conference for 30 minutes doesn't change my life in any way.
_____________________________
If my friend - who happens to already be wealthy thanks to a sizable inheritance - wins the lottery and pockets another $750,000, I am thrilled for my friend. His good luck has no bearing on my life or my own level of happiness. I might expect him to pick up the check more often than me, but I am nothing but pleased with my friend's unexpected windfall.
_____________________________
Every day, I watch people get angry, annoyed, outraged, and upset by a lack of equity that offers good fortune to others at no expense to themselves. They whine. They complain. They foment discord in boardrooms and living rooms and cubicles and classrooms.
Stop it. It only makes you unhappy, unlikeable, and unbearable.
Seek equity when equity truly matters. Fight for equity when that equity can make a difference in your life or the life of others.
But when someone experiences good fortune or luck at no one's expense, leave them alone. Move on with your life. Don't attempt to eliminate their good fortune or expect the same good fortune to be bestowed upon you. Stop wasting precious time on nonsense.
Be a happy person.
A recent Infographic on thank you notes caught my attention:
It's a lovely infographic, but I disagree with the process of decision making that it outlines.
Instead, I would like to propose my own rules about when you can write an email and when you must send a physical thank you note.
When determining whether an email or an actual thank you note is required, ask yourself the following questions:
If NO, send an email. Not only is it more efficient, but it allows you to say more in less time.
If YES, answer the following:
If NO, send an email.
If YES, consider sending an email. If you're still uncertain, answer the following question.
If NO, send the email.
If YES, grudgingly send the thank you note.
When these rules are unavailable to you, you can always rely on this one question to arrive at an equitable solution:
If NO, send an email.
If YES, send a thank you note. Or better yet, eradicate this person from your life entirely if possible.
I sent an email in lieu of a thank you note about 90% of the time. I am capable to write far more meaningful and memorable things in an email than I can in a thank you note, and I usually do. As untraditional and impersonal an email may seem to some, if done right, it can be far more meaningful and impactful than a small piece of card stock with 3-5 scribbled sentences.
When I send a physical thank you note, it's almost always in situations that still demand a physical thank you note (in response to gifts, for example, though even then, I will send an email to close friends) or when the recipient is likely to be offended by the email and his or her response to the email will be more troublesome to me than the actual writing of the thank you note.
It should also be noted that if you are a person who thinks that a thank you note sent via email is never acceptable, you should know that you are a dinosaur. You are slowly but surely becoming extinct. You may enjoy your thank you note perch high above the masses, but please know that the world is moving on without you.
Most of us understand that it's the thought that counts. It's a lesson we were taught as children, and it remains true today.
The thought - contrary to arcane and dwindling belief - does not require ink, envelope, and postage to count.
A man in Hawaii is facing criminal charges for blocking the construction of a telescope on a mountaintop. His trial is being delayed because even though he speaks perfect English, he is insisting on being tried in Hawaiian, which happens to be the official language of Hawaii.
The only problem:
No judge speaks Hawaiian, and only about 8,000 people in the world speak the language, so finding jurors who speak the language would be almost impossible. So the man is insisting that the trial be conducted through an interpreter.
The man's guilt or innocence is not my concern. My bone of contention lies in the NPR report on this case. Specifically, this exchange between NPR host Rachel Martin and the defendant Kahookahi Kanuha:
MARTIN: It's my understanding that more than a generation ago, the Hawaiian language was almost gone. It had almost been wiped out.
KANUHA: Yes.
MARTIN: What brought it back? What's to account for the resurgence?
KANUHA: Yeah, so in the early 1980s, actually, it was estimated that there were less than 50 speakers under the age of 18. It was almost guaranteed - approximately guaranteed - that within - within 20 to 30 years, perhaps, the language would be dead. And so what they did was they implemented a preschool system, and it's known as Aha Punana Leo. And as the kids graduated from preschool, those families wanted them to continue their education in Hawaiian language. And that's what created that push and the pressure for the implementation of Hawaiian immersion programs and ultimately, within the last 30 years, we have taken those numbers from less than 50 to about 8,000 or so.
I will never understand the desire to preserve languages and fight against their extinction.
Languages are not birds or animals or plants. They are not integral parts of an ecosystem. They do not carry the potential for life-saving medicines. They do not preserve biodiversity.
Languages are human constructs. They are a means of communication that developed differently across the globe only because of geographic limitations on humankind thousands of years ago. They are not in need of preservation. In fact, I think they are in need of eradication. The sooner human begins drill down to one worldwide language, the better off we will be. The ability to communicate freely and openly to anyone in any corner of the globe would be a remarkable feat of human progress.
The process of achieving a single, worldwide language begins by allowing languages to die rather than spending time and money preserving them.
“Of the estimated 7,000 languages spoken in the world today, linguists say, nearly half are in danger of extinction and are likely to disappear in this century. In fact, they are now falling out of use at a rate of about one every two weeks.
Some endangered languages vanish in an instant, at the death of the sole surviving speaker. Others are lost gradually in bilingual cultures, as indigenous tongues are overwhelmed by the dominant language at school, in the marketplace and on television.
”
The good news in this report is that languages are dying at a rapid clip. But the New York Times - and many other publications - use words like endangered and extinction to describe the precarious state of languages, as if their elimination hurts the planet or humankind.
It doesn't. It only serves as one small step in bringing us closer.
It's important to note that I am not promoting the active eradication of languages. I'm not looking for people to intentionally eliminate languages. I just don't think them worthy of preservation.
This also doesn't mean that I am overlooking one of the primary agents in the elimination of languages. The genocide of the Native Americans of North America, for example, wiped out hundred of languages in the process. I am aware that all too often, the eradication of a language was accomplished through forced subjugation and genocide. Obviously, this is not the kind of action for which I am advocating.
Languages should die of natural causes. And they are.
A report in Science magazine from 2014 indicates that the primary agent responsible for the eradication of languages today is economic growth. As previously isolated and otherwise struggling communities of people begin to interact with the world economically in order to raise their standard of living, they begin to adopt the primary language of commerce, and over time, their original language falls away and dies.
This makes sense. People want to be able to communicate as fluidly and inexpensively as possible. They want to understand and be understood. When you realize that participation in world markets will improve your lives of your future generations, you will engage in that market as fully as possible.
This includes language.
My hope - and my expectation - is that somewhere in the distant future, humankind will continue to winnow down from the approximately 7,000 languages today to a handful of languages and perhaps even one. And I don't care what language we eventually settle on. I'm not looking to preserve English as the language of the world. Whichever language rises to the top is fine by me.
The language is irrelevant. It's singularity is paramount.
The sooner human beings across the globe share a common tongue and can speak without barrier or misunderstanding, the better off we will be.
Don't seek the eradication of language. Just don't invest in its preservation. Spend your time and money on more important matters. Implementing a preschool program on the island of Hawaii in order to teach children a language that was nearly extinct and is useless outside of Hawaii strikes me as a terrible waste of resources.
Oh, and in case you were curious, Kahookahi Kanuha was granted an interpreter at his trial, and last month he was found not guilty of obstruction.
I'm happy Kanuha isn't going to jail. If you read the reports from the trial, it's clear that he was acting with noble intent.
I just hope he doesn't use his newfound freedom to promote a language that clearly wants to die.
My birthday is approaching.
My wife often asks me for possible gift ideas, as I can be a difficult person when it comes to presents. I am much more interested in eliminating things from my life than adding to it. The accumulation of stuff does not interest me. In fact, if someone would just agree to clean out the the extra furniture from my basement and remove the bins of clothing on the second floor of my home, that might be the best birthday gift of all.
But if cleaning out my basement doesn't strike you as a reasonable gift, there are two things that I want more than anything else, and I humbly suggest that you consider them as gift ideas for yourself as well.
I promise you that they are far superior to any cashmere sweater, shiny trinket, or electronic gadget that you think you may want.
Truthfully, the best gift of all is the gift of time, and it's not a terribly difficult or expensive gift to give. In the past, my wife has hired people to cut the grass, rake the leaves, and shovel the driveway, thus returning this precious time to me.
Other options for the giving of time include babysitting my children, digitizing my photo albums, walking my dog, mulching my flower beds, bringing my car to the shop to get that light on the dashboard checked out, renewing my passport, determining the contents of the boxes in my attic, correcting all my spelling tests for a month, or offering to complete any task or chore that I would otherwise have to do myself.
Your list would be different, of course Hopefully it doesn't include a warning light on your dashboard or mystery boxes in your attic. But I'm sure you can think of things that you would rather not do that a friend or family member is more than capable of accomplishing on your behalf.
I know what you're thinking:
"Matt, I'd rather mow my own grass and receive that cashmere sweater instead."
"I'd rather complete the mountain of paperwork required to renew my passport myself and open a brand new iPad on my birthday."
"I'm more than happy to shovel my driveway. Give me that new Fitbit/star finder/water purification device that I have wanted for months."
No. I'm sorry, but you're wrong. I know it may seem presumptuous to tell you what you want, but trust me. I know. I know the difference between what you want and what you think you want, and the two could not be more different.
Studies repeatedly show that money spent on experiences generates far greater happiness than money spent on things. The gift of time is the gift of an experience otherwise lost to a mindless or meddlesome chore. It's the opportunity to play with your kids or enjoy dinner with a friend or read a book or watch a movie.
I promise you that when you are lying on your death bed, surrounded by all of your material possessions - your stuff - your greatest regret will be the time you could've spent with friends and family. At that moment, the gift of time will mean more to you than anything else.
It should mean that much today. Don't wait until it's too late to appreciate it.
Honestly, you don't need any more clothing or jewelry or electronics.
You could do without the device that clips to your belt or fastens to your handlebars or makes imaginary things explode when you click the right combination of buttons.
The thing you should crave - more than anything else - is time.
Coming in a close second to time (and in many ways its first cousin) is the gift of knowledge. Find a way to teach me to do something that I’ve always wanted to do but never could or haven’t had time yet to learn.
Either teach me yourself or find someone who can do it for you.
We all go through life wishing that we could do more. Accomplish more. Achieve more. This is a gift that would allow a person to take one small step closer to those dreams.
For me, it's meant sending my wife to a cooking or an art class.
For my wife, it's meant buying me an hour with a professional poker player or an afternoon with a golf instructor.
In these instances, we walk away with nothing material but something far more valuable: The gift of knowledge. The acquisition of a skill. A slight improvement in an area that means a great deal to us.
Far more valuable than a pretty scarf or a new sweater.
In case you're thinking of giving me a birthday gift this year, here is the list of things I want to currently learn:
Change the oil in my car
Hit my driver longer and more consistently
Install replacement windows in my home
Manage my photo library on my Mac
Wire my television for the best combination of sound and on-demand and/or cable programming
Strike-through lines of text in SquareSpace without having to learn how to code
Remove the occasional burst of static and background hum during the recording of my podcast
You can determine the age of this basketball arcade game that my son was playing by the race of all three players featured on the game (white) and the approximate body mass index of those players (something approximating my own BMI).
This game must be at least 60 years old.
It looks like a scene straight out of the film Hoosiers, which was set in 1954.
Also, thank goodness basketball (and the world in general) doesn't look anything like this today.
I picked out a container of pink sprinkles for my daughter's birthday cupcakes in the confectionary aisle of the supermarket.
I took my place in the "10 items or less" line. Standing in front of me was a couple - husband and wife perhaps - with at least 25 items.
Not 11. Not 12. More than twice the posted limit.
I couldn't believe it.
Adding to this unfathomable item count was the inefficiency of these two people. The man was bagging the groceries while the woman - who was supposed to be scanning the items - was badgering him about which items should be bagged together.
They bickered throughout the entire process.
Meanwhile, I stood there with my $2 container of sprinkles, waiting for these two morons who couldn't count to ten to finish and move on.
I almost said something. I wanted to. I needed to.
I refrained. Rare for me, but it happens. I think it was the bickering. For whatever reason, their discord prevented my own wrath from entering the fray.
But I had a thought. A solution to this problem. A universal fix to this age-old dilemma.
A new rule:
If a person violates the "10 items or less" sign, he or she (or they) are required to purchase the items for the person in line directly behind them, provided that he or she has the appropriate number of items.
Brilliant. Right?
Not only does this solution offer restitution to victims like me, but it also encourages offenders to move quickly lest someone get in line behind them and earn themselves some free groceries.
In this case, I would hand the nagging woman my pink sprinkles, point to the "10 items or less" sign, and say, "Here you go, lady. Two dozen ain't even close to ten. Tell your man to bag this one separately."
A solution, both perfect in its vindication as well as its punishment.
Can I get an amen?
Five years ago I proposed a new job idea:
Professional best man.
It remains a role that I am waiting to fill. Let me explain.
Although I meet many outstanding best men in my role as a DJ, I also meet many who are too nervous to deliver the toast, too drunk to assist a groom in need, and too disinterested in the role to be of any use.
Besides, why burden your best friend with this role if all he wants to do is have a good time at the wedding as well?
Instead, hire me. Your professional best man.
What, you may ask, are my qualifications for such a job?
They are, admittedly, quite extensive:
I’ve attended more than 500 weddings as a DJ, guest, groom, member of the bridal party, and best man, so there is little that I have not seen. As a result, I will be ready and able to assist in almost every unexpected or unusual circumstance.
My experience and expertise will allow me to ensure that the DJ, photographer, caterer and other professional staff are doing their jobs to the best of their ability and serving the bride and groom to my exceedingly exacting standards.
I have extensive experience in dealing with in-laws, drunken guests, angry girlfriends, belligerent uncles, and any other potentially disruptive wedding attendee and am adept at deflecting these distractions away from the bride and groom.
I can deliver an outstanding toast. I am often instructing tragically unprepared best men on what to say just minutes before their toasts and making them sound quite good.
I am a skilled party planner and will give you the bachelor’s party of your dreams while also ensuring that you do nothing that you will regret the next day.
I possess a wide range of interests and am skilled at ingratiating myself to a wide range of people. I can do jock and nerd equally well and rarely meet someone who I cannot find common ground. We may not be best friends after your wedding, but for the duration of our nuptials, I will be surprisingly likable and chameleon-like in my ability to blend in with your group of friends. And who knows? One of my best friends is a former client. It could happen for you, too.
And what if you want to hire a professional best man but have a friend who also wants the job and would be upset to learn that you went with a professional?
No problem. Simply have two best men.
One who will get drunk during the cocktail hour, hit on one of the bridesmaids during photos, deliver a humorless speech, and forget to end it with an actual toast.
The other will not drink at your wedding except when capping off an amusing and heartfelt toast, will keep your best interests in mind at all times, and is skilled and experienced enough to ensure that everything goes smoothly on your wedding day.
Don’t you deserve another friend on your wedding day?
A friend absent of personal needs and petty grievances on your big day.
A friend who will guide you through and past every awkward, annoying, unfortunate, and potentially disastrous moment of your wedding.
Don’t you deserve the services of a professional on your wedding day?
A professional best man.
_______________________
Since I proposed this idea back in 2011, a number of surprising things have happened:
Three grooms have attempted to hire me. Two lived in California and one lived in the UK, and their wedding dates dd not align to my schedule, so I had to decline.
One groom hired me, explaining that he was marrying a woman whose culture demanded that the best man be an unmarried, never-before-married friend, and he had no one in his life who met these qualifications. I explained that I did not meet the qualifications, either, but he didn't care. He planned to lie to his fiancee and tell her that I was a lifelong bachelor. My wife wasn't pleased, but I agreed. After hiring me and planning for six months, he backed out without explanation.
A bride strongly considered hiring me for her husband, who is "a great guy" but lacks any real close friends. Ultimately she decided that it might hurt her fiancee's feelings to hire me and opted not to.
At least three television producers - two reality show producers and one documentarian - have contacted me about appearing in their television shows. We explored the possibility in all three instances, but nothing came of it.
When The Wedding Ringer, a film about a professional best man, came out in 2015, the actor and star of the film, Kevin Hart, contacted me, crediting me with coming up with the idea first.
I await the next step in this journey to make this job a reality. At least once.
“Any reduction of artifice is appealing.”
I know it's Seinfeld, and he's not exactly the arbiter of sexy, but I couldn't agree more.
My wife is as beautiful at the moment she wakes in the morning, bleary-eyed and pajama-clad, as she is when she's dressed for a night on the town.
In fact, I think she's most beautiful when wearing a headband, jeans, a tee shirt, and sneakers.
Seinfeld also says, "The need to always look sexy is not sexy. The need to always look good is not good. A lot of things are sexy."
Yes. That, too. Big time.
For those of you who are unaware, I maintain an "I told you so" calendar as one of my many Google calendars. I can't recommend it more highly.
Let me explain.
It has long frustrated me that people are capable of making ridiculous claims about the future with little or no fear that those claims will ever come back to bite them. Make some nonsense assertion about the stock market over the next two years or predict the next President with absolute certainty, and typically, by the time these predicted moments actually arrive, the comment has been forgotten and the inaccuracy remains unacknowledged forever.
It places unfair and unearned power in the moment while not accounting for longterm results.
Politicians do this all the time. It's why so many of them suck. They make ridiculous prognostications and impossible promises, knowing full well that they will rarely be held accountable.
Not any more.
With the use of the "I told you so" calendar, ridiculous, baseless, mindless claims can be fact- checked when the moment arrives, and the perpetrators of this nonsense can finally feel the sting of being held accountable for their deception and stupidity. No longer will people spout off about the future with impunity. I am now armed and ready to call them to the carpet when when the time is right.
This may seem petty to you, but as a person who takes argumentation and debate seriously, there is nothing more frustrating than someone predicting an improbable and wholly unsupported future as an integral part of their argument without some form of future recourse.
I also think that the four best words in the English language are “I told you so.” People scoff at the assertion, but I have yet to hear four words that are better.
My "I told you so" calendar is littered with items:
And when these things don't happen, I will be there, anxiously waiting to say, "I told you so."
My favorite item to come to fruition thus far was the assertion of three different friends that one or more of my children would end up sleeping in my bed for more than the occasional middle-of-the-night nightmare. These are friends who had children in their bed for years - a practice I have always found inexplicable and inadvisable - but these friends assured me that regardless of my belief, it was also unavoidable.
On my daughter's third birthday, I called these three friends and informed them that my daughter had never spent the night sleeping in our bed.
When my son turned three, I called them again, informing them that my son had spent a total of two nights in our bed, both times as a result of illness.
"I told you so," I said. And it felt so good.
Last week I added an item to the "I told you so" calendar" for 2035, surpassing the entry about my father-in-law's prediction that the NFL will cease to exist by 2030. While one of my students was stating her hypothesis about what type of person dreams more for her upcoming science fair project, she said that "little kids" probably dream more since "your life is practically over when you're 30."
I pushed back on the idea that life was essentially over at 30, but she held fast to this belief.
I'll be contacting this young lady in March of 2035 - on her 30th birthday - to inquire about the state of her life and to utter those four perfect words:
I told you so.
I can't wait.
When writing the date, I've started adding the abbreviation CE after the year
CE stands for Common Era. It's the non-religious version of AD.
January 16, 2016 CE
01.16.2015 CE
16-Jan-2016 CE
I can't tell you how much fun this has been. It confuses people. Makes them a little crazy. Upsets the apple cart. Causes their two eyebrows to scrunch together as one.
It's often the little things that can be the most amusing.
One of the best ideas that I heard in all of 2015 was this:
When a friend of mine gave birth to her first child, one of her friends sent her a gift.
It was a book. This book:
Possibly one of the cruelest jokes ever.
I plan to spend 2016 desperately seeking opportunities to send other Bill Cosby titles to my friends and family. I was tempted to add it to my 2016 list of goals, but I decided that it was trite and ultimately unproductive.
But I'm still doing it.
Used copies, of course. Most of his books are out of print, and I wouldn't want to financially support Cosby.
Can we all agree that parents who actively oppose their child's interracial, inter-religious, or same sex marriage are awful people?
They are still mothers and father, perhaps still worthy of love and respect, and possibly possessing many admirable and endearing qualities, but they are also awful, disgusting, rotten people.
We can all agree to this. Right?
Because if enough of us agree and make our position loud and clear, perhaps these parents will at least be shamed into keeping their awfulness to themselves and stop making their children's lives so difficult.
I was standing in a hallway, waiting in line for my flu shot, when a colleague walked by.
"Are you getting a flu shot?" I asked her.
"I'd like to," she said. "But I hate giving out my social security number and birth date and address and all that. It makes me nervous."
I laughed - not because she was nervous of identity theft - but because of how simple a solution there was to her problem.
"Why not just lie?" I asked. "Give a fake social security number. A fake address. Give a fake name if you want. Do you really think anyone is going to verify your information after you've received your flu shot? And even if they do, how would they ever trace it back to you? And even if they did, what would happen? Would they take the flu shot back? Have you arrested? Execute you?"
"Really?" she said. "Just give a fake number?"
I explained that for more almost two decades, whenever I am required to complete a time sheet for work above and beyond my salaried hours, I have always filled in the line for "Position" with the word "upright" rather than "teacher."
Dozens upon dozens of time sheets, all completed the same way over the course of almost 20 years, and never a word from anyone.
"Unless I'm dealing with the IRS or my insurance company, I almost never give out my real social security number," I explained. "When I rent a cart for golf and am required to sign a waiver, I always sign my friend's name and provide his phone number. Other than my wife, it's the only other phone number I know by heart."
"Really?" she asked.
I explained that the bureaucrats of the world are obsessed with gathering data but oftentimes have little interest in determining if the data is accurate. It's just boxes in need of checking and nothing more.
I could tell that she liked the idea, but I could also see that this was something new to her. There was a moral hazard at play.
Teachers are often rules followers. A vast majority of them - at least at the elementary level - are formerly well behaved, hard working students who wanted to please their teachers. They became teachers because they loved their teachers and loved school. The idea of falsifying information on an official document is something that most teachers wouldn't even consider, despite legitimate concerns over identity theft and database security.
In the end, she decided not to take my advice. She skipped the flu shot and went on her way, unprotected from the oncoming flu season.
It was a victory for the flu virus, which managed to preserve another vector for distribution thanks to the fear of identity theft and an unwillingness to falsify documents and deceive medical personnel.
It must be a difficult life when you can't freely lie to authorities and amuse yourself by completing paperwork in ridiculous ways.
Passion Natural Water-Based Lubricant, in a 55 gallon container could be yours for $1,175.82 from Amazon. Two day shipping available (though I pity the UPS driver who needs to bring a 55 gallon barrel of lube onto your stoop).
The New York Times writes about how some colleges and universities have stopped requiring SAT scores when applying to their schools.
“For all the gripes some people have with the SAT and ACT as gauges of aptitude, the tests are certainly standardizing forces in one regard: taking them has become a shared moment of anxiety — a rite of passage, in its way — for students wishing to go to a United States college or university.
Yet some students defy this rule. The list of colleges and universities dropping the admissions requirement of standardized test scores continues to extend each year, and with it, a growing number of prospective applicants are treating the testing process as an optional exercise.”
I have never taken the SAT.
In fact, I have never completed a college application or written a college essay, despite the fact that I have an Associate's degree in liberal arts from Manchester Community College, a Bachelor's degree in English from Trinity College, a teaching license from St. Joseph's University, and a Master's degree in educational technology from American Intercontinental University.
Three degrees and a teaching license, and yet I have never taken a standardized test and never completed a college essay.
You could do this, too, if you followed the same path I did.
1. Attend a community college.
For me, it took me five years to finally make it to college following high school. You don't need to wait five years, but for me, I had no choice. Poverty, a lack of parental support, homelessness, post traumatic stress disorder following a violent robbery, and an arrest and trial for a crime I did not commit prevented me from attending college any earlier.
I suggest you skip all that and just go to college.
Community college does not require an SAT score and does not require students to complete formal applications like four year institutions.
2. Do exceedingly well in community college.
For me, this meant an 3.92 GPA. I was also Treasurer of the Student Senate and President of the National Honor Society. I was also a Truman Scholarship finalist, a USA Today Academic All American, and the Connecticut debate champion for two consecutive years.
This is not an impossible task. I also worked more than 40 hours a week managing a McDonald's restaurant while attending community college. If I could work full time and still do well, I am convinced that most students could do the same if they truly applied themselves and had a modicum of parental support.
3. Accept an invitation to transfer to a four year institution.
Upon graduating from Manchester Community College, I received scholarship offers on the strength of my community college performance from several Connecticut schools, including Trinity, Wesleyan, and Yale. I accepted the invitation and scholarship from Trinity because the school had a program designed for nontraditional students like myself and was close enough to home and work to make travel convenient. I would still be working full-time while attending Trinity (and would soon add another 20 hours a week in the Student Writing Center as a paid tutor), so proximity to home and work was important.
If I didn't have to work in order to support myself, Yale would've been my first choice, but it was not meant to be. I still have the letter from Yale inviting me to attend and offering me a scholarship, but that was as close to the fabled university as I would ever get until I told a story at Yale last year for The Moth as part of a conference on storytelling and began working with other departments on communications and storytelling.
4. Don't complete an application. Don't write college essays.
It turns out that if a college invites you to transfer to their institution, they don't require you to apply. I filled out a few forms in the Registrar's Office, but it was about 15 minutes of paperwork and a small fee. All but one of my classes from Manchester Community College transferred to Trinity, making me a junior when I arrived. It would take me three years to complete my Bachelor's degree at Trinity, but this was only because I also completed a teaching degree at St. Joseph's University in addition to a degree in English.
5. Graduate.
It should also be noted that my teaching license - which amounted to a second major - came thanks to a consortium of colleges in the Hartford area. Students from Trinity, St. Joseph's, and the University of Hartford were permitted to take classes at each other's schools. Most students never took a class via the consortium, and those that did took one or two classes at most, only when the class was not offered at their school or did not fit their schedule.
I took advantage of the relationship between the schools and completed a full major's worth of educational classes at St. Joseph's in order to graduate with both a degree in English and a teaching license. As a result, I did not need to complete an application for St. Joseph's University, since the grades for those classes appeared on my Trinity transcripts.
My Master's degree was completed at an online university (though several credits came from Trinity College and Central Connecticut State University), and the online university did not require SAT scores or a formal application.
Just a large tuition payment.
It should also be noted that I attended Manchester Community College for free based upon my financial need, and thanks to the scholarship offered by Trinity, I paid almost nothing to attend that school (and therefore St. Joseph's University as well).
So... want a path to college that eliminates the SAT, college applications, college essays, and tuition?
There you have it.
It wasn't easy, and I acknowledge that it might not work for everyone, but if you don't have to work 40-60 hours a week supporting yourself as you make your way through college (while also launching a DJ company in that time), it might not be too bad.
I’m a timely person.
I’m timely because I think it’s rude to be late.
Even worse, I think it’s despicable for a person to be consistently late. The consistently late are a selfish pack of uncivilized heathens who should be pay higher taxes and be forbidden from ever celebrating Thanksgiving.
Consistently late is also a sign that you suck at life. It’s perhaps the clearest sign of all. If you’re a member of the consistently late clan, you should know that we all think this, and we despise you for it. We may like or even love you, but we despise you, too, for your selfishness and inability to act like a decent human being.
TIME offers 9 Habits of People Who Are Always on Time. It’s a good list. I particularly like numbers 1, 2, 4, and 8. Adopt these habits and you’ll be much better off.
Allow me to add a tenth to the list:
Prepare yourself to leave the house well in advance of actually leaving the house.
For example, if you’re meeting friends for dinner, and you plan to leave the house at 6:00, don’t wait until 5:30 to get ready, even if it normally takes you about 30 minutes to get ready.
This makes no sense. Frankly, it’s insane.
Requiring 30 minutes to get ready is also insane, but that’s an entirely different set of problems.
If the last thing you do before leaving the house and prepare to leave the house, all it takes is one setback in your preparation process to cause you to be late. One item of clothing that unexpectedly needs ironing. One wardrobe reconsideration. One spill. One hangnail. One malfunctioning hairdryer. One unavoidable phone call. One screaming child.
If you plan to leave the house at 6:00, why not get ready to leave at 4:00? Just be ready. Whatever benefit you think you are deriving from showering and getting dressed and applying makeup just prior to leaving the house, I promise you that you are the only person noticing it.
More importantly, the people who you are meeting would undoubtedly favor less attention to your physical appearance and more attention to your timeliness.
In fact, valuing your physical appearance over arriving on time is the epitome of selfish.
“I made you wait so my hair could look just right.”
Disgusting, yet it’s essentially what people do all the time.
I’ve proposed my idea to several of my friends and colleagues over the past week, and almost universally, they think it’s a ridiculous idea. “Get ready two hours before I leave the house?” said one. “That’s stupid.”
The only two people who have agreed with the merit of this proposal are the two people in my life who I can depend upon the most to be on time.
One woman and one man. Always on time, regardless of weather or traffic.
Also two of the most impressive and accomplished people who I know.