The likelihood that your gossip and behind-the-back cruelty will be exposed, expressed in percentages

If you say something despicable or underhanded behind the back of a family member, there is a 85% chance that your words will find their way into the ears of that family member.

If you say something despicable or underhanded behind the back of a colleague, there is a 75% chance that your words will find their way into the ears of that colleague.

If you say something despicable or underhanded behind the back of a friend, there is a 50% chance that your words will find their way into the ears of your friend.

If your despicable and underhanded comments were made to more than one person, add 2% per person to each of these percentages.

If your despicable and underhanded comments were sent via text or email, add 5% to each of these percentages.

Despite these highly accurate percentages, there is a 95% chance that you don't believe these percentages pertain to you when they most assuredly do.

When you say terrible things behind the backs of others, they find out what you said far more often than you think. Human beings are gossip machines. It is one of the reasons that we survived as a species. We are wired to exchange information as often of possible, in order to increase status, gain trust, trade for new information, solicit advice, and unburden ourselves of difficult-to-keep secrets.  

May I suggest a simple means of avoiding any of this:

Stop speaking negatively about people behind their backs. Be direct. Understand that passive-aggressive, behind-the-back commentary is cowardly, disgusting and never as private as you might think.

Be calm.

A small suggestion:

Try to be a calming influence on the world. 

There are already enough people in the world doing the opposite. Constantly asserting how harried, all consuming, and fast paced our world is. How stressful modern life can be. How there is never enough time. Always too much work. Far too many responsibilities. 

I do not discount their feelings. Nor do I discount the realities that propagate and perpetuate these feelings.  

Still, my advice: Try not to be that person. Or try to be less of that person. 

I don't try to argue with the chronically busy and perpetually overwhelmed. I don't ask them to take stock in all they have. I don't list the all the modern conveniences, medical advancements, and technological developments that prior generations would have yearned to possess. I don't remind them that there have been far more frightening and darker days in our country's history, and they we are so fortunate to be living through a time of relative peace and prosperity in comparison to so many that came before us. I don't ask them to count their blessings.  

I simply present myself as a calm, relaxed, confident individual whenever possible. I am too keenly aware of how incredibly fortunate I am. 

And when I hear someone lamenting about how busy or overwhelmed they are or asserting how busy and overwhelmed others seem to be, I often say something life:

"Aren't we lucky that we're able to be so busy? Can you imagine how miserable life must be for those who are bored? For those who have nothing to do? For people who hate their jobs or don't feel like they are making a difference in this world? Or even worse, imagine how hard it must be for the people who can't find a job? Or those who are too ill or disabled to do what they want to do? Being busy is a privilege. It's a privilege to have a life so full and eventful." 

I don't know if this helps, but I think it sometimes does. When I tell someone that I'm never too busy to lend an ear or a hand, I often see them relax a little. When I tell them how privileged I feel to be as busy as I am, I often see them slow down a bit. That crazed look in their eyes diminishes. Sometimes they even smile.

Try it. Try to be a zone of calm and relaxation in this otherwise harried, all consuming world. 

Instead of saying that "teachers are overwhelmed" (something I hear a lot), instead say, "Teachers are so fortunate to work with kids everyday and change lives."

Instead of saying that "technology has turned life into a 24 hour work day," tell people about the joy of being able to see and speak to the faces of your nephew and niece from across the country with the simple press of a button. 

Instead of telling people how time consuming parenting can be, tell a story about a moment when your children filled your heart with more joy than you thought was humanly possible. Or the way your three year old son say Star Whores instead of Star Wars.

Instead of telling someone how busy you are, tell them how lucky you are to be so busy that the television hasn't been turned on in five days. 

This isn't to say that I don't feel busy or harried or overwhelmed at times. This isn't to say that the pace of life can't be tough for me to maintain at times. I just choose not to talk about it much. It's already been said. It's being said around me all the time. I choose instead to focus on the good fortune that I have today and all the blessings of my life. 

Then I talk about these blessings to the busy, crazed, overwhelmed people around me. I try to be a calm, confident point of perspective in their life. I try to be the eye of the storm. They place they can go for some peaceful and quiet.

Try it. Try to be the calm one. The one who isn't too busy or overwhelmed.

Start by talking a good game, and perhaps soon, you will believe it, too. 

I have discovered what women look for in a man

I spent a portion of Saturday night in the company of Elysha and some of her lady friends. They were discussing what their single straight girlfriends should look for in men. 

I just sat and listened.

Men, based upon this conversation, here is what women want:

A responsible man with modest or better career prospects who possesses better than average intelligence and has "an edge." Also, you should not be living with your parents or other family members.

This last part struck me as fairly obvious, but perhaps not so much in today's world.

"An edge" appears to mean "not boring." You need to have personal interests outside your career and family. You must possess strong opinions or feelings on things that matter to you. You should bring the promise of new frontiers and new possibilities to the relationship.   

Things that apparently matter little to women:

• Physical appearance
• Prior marital status
• Golf handicap
• Trust funds
• Arrest record
• Wardrobe
• Musical preferences
• Familial safety nets
• Performance in bed
• The college or university that you attended
• The car that you drive

The worst person in the world

There are many terrible people in the world.

Gossips. Cowards, Bigots. Fanatics. Cheaters. 

The lazy. The dishonest. The passive-aggressive. The violent. 

New York Jets fans.
Men who wear Gucci basketball sneakers.
People who shout out at live performances when the name of their hometown or college is mentioned by the speaker. 
Right-wing Republicans who worship Ronald Reagan while refusing to acknowledge his record on immigration, taxation, government spending, and compromise.

But I've always felt like there is one quality above all others that is the worst, and oftentimes the most dangerous:

The large, fragile ego.

A large ego can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on how the possessor of that ego wields it. But either way, a large ego isn't inherently terrible or especially dangerous. 

A fragile ego is certainly the best thing in the world, but if it's not oversized, it's often only limiting to its possessor.

But the large, fragile ego is a terrible and dangerous thing, particularly when the person possessing the large, fragile ego is in a position of power. These are the men and women (but mostly men) who think highly of themselves but are unable to endure criticism of any kind. These are the egomaniacs who also desperately need to be loved. Adored. Cherished. Admired. 

This is a terrible and dangerous combination.
These are the people who ultimately prove to be vindictive. Vengeful. Unpredictable.

They are administrators and managers and politicians and bosses who will love you one day and hate you the next simply based upon the tenor of your support. They are the leaders who shift their position with public opinion as often as the wind. They are the ones who often ask (or require) others to publicly support their decisions even while knowing full well that these subordinates do not. They are managers incapable of doing their own dirty work. They are administrators who prey on the weak and promote the most frightened, agreeable, or easily swayed individuals. 

I think of them as over-inflated balloons. Handle the enormity of the stretched rubber the wrong way and it will pop. 

They are also terrible and dangerous because of their prevalence. They exist in frightening large numbers. I have known many of these cretins over the course of my life, and I'm sure you have as well.

Worst of all, there's no fixing them as far as I can tell. They are eternally despicable. Forever fragile. Endlessly pathetic. Permanently damaged. No amount of instruction or training or life experience will correct this tragic flaw. They are terrible right down to their bones. 

Avoid these people (mostly men) like the plague.
Vote them out of office. 
Transfer out of their division.
Leave their work group as quickly as possible.
Never marry them.
Do everything you can to keep these people out of your life and out of power.

Every thing doesn't need to be a thing

My friend and podcast host Rachel was recently told me about a recommendation she received about the joy of drinking a glass of bourbon while in the shower.

This is, of course, a ridiculous idea. And it's indicative of something that seems to be gaining purchase in society that I would like to publicly take a stand against:

Making a thing out of every thing.

It's happening all around us. It must stop. 

Remember a time when guacamole was prepared in the restaurant's kitchen and delivered to your table by a member of the waitstaff rather than prepared at the table by a member of the kitchen staff, momentarily stifling conversation so you can watch someone do their job for reasons that are ultimately meaningless and slightly awkward?

Remember when weddings didn't require signature drinks named after the bride and groom?

Remember when children's birthday parties didn't end with overflowing goodie bags? 

Remember when soccer was played on fields within your town limits? Remember when terms like "travel soccer" and "weekend tournaments" had not yet been invented? Remember when hundreds of dollars were not spent on hotel rooms so kids can run around on a grassy field just like the one down the street from their home?

Remember when the word promposal didn't exist and you asked someone to the prom by asking them to the prom?

Remember when lattes were not canvases upon which baristas created art?

Remember a time before the use of the ubiquitous use of the word barista?

Every thing doesn't have to be a thing. It's getting ridiculous.

I am a person who prizes simplicity. Efficiency. Productivity. Minimalism. I despise ornamentation. Ostentatiousness. Unnecessary complexity and purposeless expense. I cannot stand when something is made precious that is not precious and was never meat to be precious.

A glass of bourbon in the shower is a stupid idea. Take your shower, get dressed, and then, if you want a glass of bourbon, drink one. Don't turn the act of washing your body into anything more than it is.

Get in. Get out. Get dressed.

Be happy that you're able to shower at all. More than half of the world's population still doesn't have access to hot water for showering on a daily basis. A shower is already a thing. It's an amazing thing. You don't need to add bourbon to the mix to make it any more precious than it already is.   

Guacamole being prepared at the table is ridiculous. We get excited about watching avocados being smashed before out eyes because we think it denotes an exceptional level of freshness and offers an artisanal flair.

It doesn't.

Having your guacamole prepared in the kitchen one minute earlier achieves the same damn thing and doesn't interrupt the conversation with a ridiculous, artificial, ultimately meaningless moment during dinner.

Promposals are atrocious. Teenagers perform and record these elaborate displays because they want attention. They want their prom to mean something more than it already does. They want the recording of their promposal to get more likes or views or shares than their friends' promposals.

There was a time - not so long ago - when a prom was a moment significant in its own right.

Actually, it still is. Teenagers just can't stop staring at YouTube long enough to realize it.  

Signature wedding drinks are created by caterers and bartenders who know that guests will consume these drinks in large amounts, thus allowing them to manage their inventory more effectively and maximize profits. Bride and grooms embrace the concept of  these signature drinks - sometimes spending hours deciding upon the name for each one - because they apparently don't think they are going to get enough attention on their wedding day. They've become such a thing that magazines and websites are now dedicated to the challenge of "perfecting the art of naming your signature drink."

It's an art now.

It's an art apparently capable of achieving perfection, despite the fact that a week after a wedding, no one could tell you the name of the bride and groom's signature drink. 

People love the art that baristas design in their lattes because everything about coffee has been fetishized in our culture. If anything in this world has ever been made into a thing, it is coffee. Drinking a cup of coffee is no longer a means of quenching a thirst or warming you up on a chilly day or injecting caffeine into the bloodstream or even drinking something that tastes good. Coffee has become a ritual for people. The coffee culture has taken something that was once small and simple into something of enormous import and great meaning. Coffee is no longer a warm, tasty beverage that people enjoy in the morning. It has become a means by which people define themselves. It has become a constant source of conversation. It is precious and artisanal and zen, and latte art reinforces these silly beliefs.   

Competing with coffee on the highest level of things being made into things are travel sports. Parents drive or fly their kids to soccer tournaments and swim meets and baseball games around the country because they believe that their children need to compete against the best of the best or be seen by the best coaches or because every other parent is bringing their kids to Timbuktu to play basketball this weekend and "my kid can't be left out!"

I hear from these "travel" kids all the time. Kids who travel from city to city, state to state to play baseball and soccer and swimming and hockey and basketball. They always tell me these four things:

1. They don't care where they play or who they play. They just want to play.
2. Their parents take sports way too seriously and are overly involved in their sporting life. 
3. They worry about making the travel team only because of the enormous pressure they feel to play on the team or else be perceived as inferior by their peers. 
4. They love travel sports not because of the games or the competition but because they love staying in hotel rooms and swimming in hotel pools.

We have turned this thing called youth sports into a thing. An enormous, expensive, ego-driven, parent-centered thing. A thing it was never meant to be and never needed to be. 

I'll say it again. Every thing doesn't need to be a thing.

Showers can just be soap and shampoo and water. 

Coffee can simply be a beverage.

Soccer can be a sport that kids play after school and on Saturdays on the field around the block or even across town.

Asking a girl or a boy to the prom can be a simple - albeit courageous - question posed privately after school. 

Every thing doesn't need to be a thing. We are all important enough already. Life is sufficiently complex. There is already great meaning in simple things if you pay attention. There is no need to make food or drink or sports or toddler birthday parties so ostentatious and grand that we garner undeserved meaning from them.

When a thing is made into a thing, it's usually done in an effort to bring false meaning to a process or undeserved attention to a person. Allow the thing to just be a thing. 

A shower without a glass bourbon has been relaxing and joyful experience for a long, long time. Don't add an alcoholic layer to the process in order to make it any more precious than it already is. Instead, pay attention to how precious and lovely and perfect it already is. See the beauty and meaning and import of the world as it already is.

Things are already things. See them as such. Embrace them for what they already are.  

Boy in blanket fort offers lesson on happiness

It's just a sheet spread over his crib, but it makes him so happy. There's so much joy and wonder in this simple thing.

It's an important reminder to me about how little is required to make you happy if you're willing to open your eyes and see something as new and different. 

Happiness isn't what or who or how much. It isn't what others are thinking or offering or seeing. It's simplicity in the moment. It's wanting little and receiving so much in return. 

It's also a reminder about how invaluable and unforgettable a momentary burst of pure joy can be if you allow it to be so. Happiness sometimes comes to us in flickers of light and sound that we must see and hear and hold and remember. So often we are looking at the wrong thing and worried about the wrong stuff that we miss the thing right in front of us.

Like the limitless joy of a little boy in a blanket fort.

Find your blanket fort. Or make one of your own.

An important corollary on the two greatest super powers of all time

Last week I wrote that the two greatest super powers of all time are immortality and time travel, with teleportation coming in a possible, albeit distant third.

I'd like to offer a corollary on this:

1. If you're not interested in living forever, then I am willing to acknowledge that immortality might not be the greatest super power for you. But you must also be willing to admit that until you actually face death, you might be wrong about your distaste for immortality.

As someone who has faced death three times (and actually died twice), I can assure you that immortality is appealing.

2. Time travel is better than teleportation or any other super power because of the ability to see into the future and warn humanity about (and perhaps even prevent) certain natural disasters and other calamities.

• Alert authorities about the September 11 attacks in order to stop the terrorists and save lives.
• Issue evacuation warnings ahead of earthquakes, tidal waves and other natural disasters. 
• Stop George Lucas from creating Jar Jar Binks.

It would be an enormous burden on the person with this super power, but morally and ethically speaking, how could you not acknowledge that this power is better than the ability to pop in and out of New York City without having to deal with traffic?   

3. There was some concern over the dangers of traveling into the past and catastrophically altering the future in which the time traveler lives (and possibly threatening his or her very existence in the process). There were also concerns over the potential for paradoxes.

While traveling into the past would be appealing, concern over these issues could be mitigated by simply traveling into the future only, and only traveling for observational purposes. A time traveler need only to travel to a library and spend some time reading newspapers or history books in order to find the information he or she needs while risking almost nothing in terms of unintentionally changing the course of human events 

If you're not convinced now, I don't know what to do.

The two best super powers of all time (one of them is not teleportation)

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:

1. Immortality
2. Time travel

All others - including teleportation - pale in comparison.

Possibly the perfect outgoing voicemail message

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””

— Matthew Inman

I'm so very tempted to use it as my outgoing message.

I won't even have to change the name.

Four rules about being precious about your stuff

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:  

1. Don’t do it.
2. No one likes it.
3. Yes, this applies to food, food preparation, beverages, Sunday brunch, your overly publicized workout routines, sunsets, your child's achievement of milestones, and the fetishization of the weekend in general.  
4. Punch me when I do it.

27 Things I Wish I Had Known 10 Years Earlier

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. 

A rule for lifelong happiness: Stop begrudging the good fortune of others.

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.  

Thank you notes: Should you send an email or write a note?

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:

1. Is the recipient the kind of inane and pedantic person who would be offended by an email in lieu of a handwritten thank you note?

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:

2. Is the recipient someone whose opinions you care about?

If NO, send an email.
If YES, consider sending an email. If you're still uncertain, answer the following question.

3. Is the recipient the kind of small-minded, vacuous person who might underhandedly complain about your failure to send an actual thank you note to people who you know and respect?

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:

Is the recipient a backwards-thinking, arcane traditionalist capable of underhanded, passive-aggressive, prickish behavior with far too much time on their hands?

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. 

Let languages die.

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.

In 2007 the New York Times reported:

“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.
”

— http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/18/world/18cnd-language.html

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.

The two birthday gifts you should be asking for above all others

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. 

Time

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.  

Knowledge

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

Large, lumbering, white men playing basketball. Probably poorly.

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. 

A simple and perfect solution to the "10 items or less" offenders

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?

Professional Best Man (and the amazing things that have happened since I first proposed this job)

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:

1. 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.

2. 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.

3. 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.

4. 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.

5. 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.

What is sexy? (according to Jerry Seinfeld and me)

“Any reduction of artifice is appealing.”

— Jerry Seinfeld

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. 

The "I told you so" calendar. Armed and ready for 2035. I can't recommend it highly enough.

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:

• Unlikely sports predictions made by irrational fans of opposing teams
• Assertions related to parenting that I can't wait to prove wrong
• Political forecasts that will undoubtedly never happen
• Job-related predictions that are made with little foresight or perspective

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.