By John Y. Brown III, on Fri May 3, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
The next “Big Idea”
The most brilliant solutions are usually the most obvious. Mine is no exception. After you hear it, you will want to kick yourself for not thinking of it yourself.
I believe that given the extent of our national debt coupled with individual’s lack of retirement savings and the disappointing failure of multitasking to allow us to complete all of our errands and “action items” each day in our frantic wireless world that never turns off, we need a solution that is bold and “out of the box” — a “game changer,” if you will.
Here’s my idea to solve all these problems. It’s this generation’s Star Wars Missile Defense System. Only better.
We must use our best and brightest scientific minds to get an extension, as it were—via Mother Nature.
We need to slow the rate at which the Earth rotates. Not a lot. Just a little—so that it is barely noticeable after the first month or two (like in the 1970s when the speed limit was dropped to 55 mph to reduce our national usage of and reliance on foreign oil. Car pooling helped to.)
By slowing the Earth’s rotation to lengthen our days from, say, 24 hours to 27 1/2 hours, and our calendars from 365 days a year to 432 days a year, we will buy ourselves the much needed extra time we need to pay down the debt, put away adequate retirement savings, and finally get to check-off our entire “to do” lists including everything from that overdue oil changes to getting our dog’s nails clipped. And we’ll still have extra time left over for flossing, which we seem never to have time for in our current outdated 24/365 system.
Will it work?
I think the Japanese are already doing this and having quantifiable success. Retirement savings are up and cavities are down, per capita
We need to “catch up” and we aren’t able to “speed up” any more. Slowing the Earth to lengthen our calendars is the only thing that makes sense.
Who doesn’t love that feeling of getting an extra week to finish an major assignment you are behind on or moving a conference call you aren’t prepared for to the following week? This solution would do that for everything!
If this doesn’t work, the federal government will be left with no choice but to require the only beverage served in the US to be Red Bull–to speed us up artificially. And not only would that not work since most of us are already hopped up on caffeine, but drinking that much Red Bull daily is really bad for our teeth and causes gingivitis.
This “game changer” solution just makes good common sense! Not to mention political, economic , and dental sense.
Its brilliant but not a panacea. We should still encourage car pooling too. It can’t hurt.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu May 2, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
For my entire adult life whenever I would walk past a noisy bar with young intoxicated people and catch their eyes, I have always felt very intimidated—and dismissed —by the rowdy unrestrained “cool” types hanging out at places like that.
Until a few years ago, that is. I’m wearing a blue blazer and slacks and maybe even a tie. It’s not like I fit in. But I was thinking maybe I’m getting cooler with age I’m not as intimidated either. And my our eyes lock with these younger types, it doesn’t feel like they are being dismissive of me anymore.
I really liked the possibility that of the “I’m getting cooler with age” theory, until it happened again last night. And I looked a little deeper into the glazed over eyes of the 25 year old unshaven young man with tattered jeans and a hipster air.
His look of “respect” toward me wasn’t because he thought I was “cool.” It was because I reminded him of someone who could be his boss —and could fire him.
So, I’m not getting cooler with age. I’m just looking more like someone who could fire you.
And after letting that sink in a little bit, I decided, it was even cooler than being cool.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed May 1, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Thought for the day:Today I am going to have an attitude like the stick figures who work for the “Life is Good” clothing line.They always seem so happy and grateful –like they are having a good day.Not all day.
Because it gets old being line that all the time.
And, frankly, the overly-pleasant skinny skinny stick people get on your nerves after a while. It’s like being around a bunch of people who just discovered Prozac or something.
It’s not real.But for this morning , I am going to be like a “Life is Good” stick person.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 30, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
If you are almost 50 years old:
Go to a Starbucks where they don’t know you by name. Order whatever you would normally order. And here’s the prank part. Give them a fake name
In a few minutes your drink will be ready and they will alert you —not by your real name but some totally bogus fake name!
It’s hilarious and no one will know but you
OK. It’s totally lame and not funny at all. But it was a long line today at Starbucks slow service and I spent my time trying to think of a payback
I made up the name “Beauregard Brown.” And when the barista glanced up to ask the inevitable, I responded, “Please don’t ask if you can call me ‘Bo.’ I hate the nickname ‘Bo’….Oh, OK, you can use the nickname ‘Bo’ for my coffee cup.”
She thanked me and smiled like I had done her a great favor by not requiring her to write out the name “Beauregard” on my “tall” (which must mean puny in Seattle) coffee cup.
But tomorrow I will be ready. If it’s really slow service I will tell her I am from KY where we have a lot of hyphenated male first names, like mine: Buearegard-Bob. And let her try to write out the whole first name.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 29, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Is my son simply growing up or am I being “downsized” and “strategically redeployed” in my own home?
Or both?
My son turned 19 yesterday.
I remember as a teenager my best friend and his father would wrestle with each other in their home. It was a way of interacting in a fun and friendly way but could also get intense at times.
My friend told me later that the intensity was caused by his father being challenged that he was being displaced as the “man of the house” or the “stronger man between the two” and that all fathers had ego challenges when this natural turning point occurred with a son. (His father was a psychologist so he got deeper explanations for things than I did)
I thought it made sense but assured myself I wouldn’t display such insecurities when I experienced this phenomenon with my son.
As I hugged my son good night last night, I noticed he was taller than me. Finally. I mentioned this to him and he said matter-of-factly, “Yeah, I know.” And didn’t show the slightest bit of remorse or need to reassure me of my dominant male role in the family.
I felt like asking him if he wanted to wrestle me. But just didn’t have the energy at that moment.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Apr 26, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
I remember as a child–maybe at about age 6 or 7 –my mom let me start brushing my own hair to get ready for school. I was proud of my independence signified by my responsibility for the hair on my head.
As I grew older, about ages 13-14, I graduated to a new level and had to start shaving my peach fuzz-like growth on my upper lip.
A year or two later, another step still— as I began shaving not only my entire lower face but shaving daily.
And then as I aged into my 20s and early 30s the next phase of follicular development: I began having to shave my upper neck daily too. And occasionally ask my wife to shave the back of my neck
And then….and then….
I still brush my hair, shave my entire lower face and upper neck and occasionally ask my wife to shave the back of my neck…but as I have moved into my 40s now additionally trim my eye brows every two weeks and even check my ear canals once or twice a month for errant hair growths.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Apr 25, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
I am 49 and turn 50 in less than 2 monthsMy mind is racing this morning to come up with a few final reckless behaviors I can engage in over the next few weeks.While I can still blame the bad behavior on being a “youthful indiscretion.”
… I mean, there have got to be some things you can get away with at 49 that you just can’t get away with at 50.
Right ?
I want to find out what they are. And do them. While there is still time. While I am still young enough to get away with it.See More
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 23, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
The other day I was interviewed about who I thought run in the 2015 Governor’s race. Here is an answer I fleshed out that didn’t get quoted but I re-read it and liked.
“As fun as it is to speculate about who will run for governor in 2015 and who will be the strongest candidates, it is more art than science and more about personal timing than politcal timing. At bottom, running for governor is an irrational decision. One morning you wake up and decide to run because you can’t not run. It is a leap of faith. One of the boldest leaps of faith a mortal can ever take who is also politically inclined. And especially in Kentucky. Where it is two parts political and one part horse race.
And the gambling metaphor is fitting. Running for governor is like walking up to a casino craps table and grabbing the dice. But before you throw the die, striping off all your clothes and crawling onto the table. And betting everything on yourself –physical, mental and emotional–on a single roll. Not because it is a wise or prudent thing to do. And not because you have nothing to lose or something to gain. It is deeper than that. There is something in the gubernatorial candidate’s DNA code that makes him or her feel they are betraying their genetic make-up if they don’t run. They run not because they worry of what others will say in their presence if they don’t run —but rather worry what they will whisper to themselves when no one else is around.
It is, in these candidate types, as if they were born with invisible wings. And like any animal blessed with wings, there will come a day when it is time to try to fly.
And that day, so to speak, is more about instinct and impulse that intellect and preparation. The day a gubernatorial candidate files to run for office is, in a very real sense, the day that particular political animal believes is the day he or she is finally ready to fly.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 22, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
A seven foot basketball goal at a neighboring condo from the one we rented in Amelia Island, FL where I played basketball with my kids almost every spring break for nine years.
And probably will never see or play on again
The first few spring breaks the goal seemed big to my kids. And then about right. And then too small. And then too embarrassing to be seen playing on
For me, today, it seems too big —as I drive away for the last time
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