By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Jan 2, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET  New Year’s Resolution (for pessimistic under achievers)
“To NOT live my life in such a way in 2015 that my New Year’s resolution for 2016 is to repair the damage I caused in 2015.”
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My New Year’s Resolution
To enjoy and celebrate the good qualities I already possess
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I hope my cell phone’s New Year’s resolution is to not die so often in 2015.
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I’m celebrating New Year’s in CA on Pacific time but live in KY which is on Eastern standard time.
That means all my friends in KY will be getting a 3 hour head start on me for 2015.
You know what…Bring it! I’ll catch up by March. You just wait and see!
(Oh, and yes, I needed the extra 3 hours for 2014.)
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Jan 1, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET One of the most common ways we talk to ourselves —or are supposed to —is through “Positive Self Talk” I discovered this idea about 25 years ago. We say positive things to ourself in the bathroom mirror each morning before starting our day. It puts us in a better frame of mind and helps us to have a better day.
But lately I have to admit that positive self-talk in my bathroom mirror in the mornings is getting harder. And I think my real self is finally on to my positive self-talking self. In fact, my positive self-talk affirmations are turning into dialogues with my real self. And at times has been getting a little tense. What happened this morning should not have come as a surprise to me.
Positive Self-Talk Self (PSTS): “Good morning there, fella. Alright. OK. Not bad. Really not bad at all.”
Real Self (RS): “That’s all you got for me this morning? ‘OK’ and ‘Not bad?’ Come on. ”
PSTS: “Well, it’s good. It’s good. It is. Certainly it could be worse. I mean…What do you want me to say?”
RS: “I don’t know. It would be nice to hear something good but I don’t want you to just lie to me. I don’t want you to even exaggerate. In fact, I want you to start shooting straight with me from now on. OK? No more with just this happy talk. Man to man. OK? If I am not doing alright, just say it. I’m 51 years old and can deal with it. ”
PSTS: (Gets quiet before answering) “Ok. OK. Yeah, John. I hear you. I admit, I have been laying it on a little thick lately. What do you want me to do? If I just tell you the truth, you will get mad and leave abruptly. And sometimes not talk to me for several days. And that’s not going to work for me anymore?”
RS: “What? ‘That’s not going to work for you anymore?’ You aren’t even a real full person. You are just some part of myself that is supposed to deliver good news to me, give me pep talks, and say encouraging things to me in the mornings. You know…. Help me see things from their most positive perspective and make me think that is the way they really are.”
PSTS: “Yeah, I know, John. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. For a while there —-through your 30s and 40s —I could do that with a straight face. But it’s getting harder with each passing year. I don’t know how much longer I can do this without losing touch with reality —and eventually losing my mind.”
RS: “Wait. Wait! PSTS, are you telling me that the last few yeas of positive things you’ve been saying to me were total BS?”
PSTS: “No, John. I didn’t say that. Not ‘total BS.’ Just…I am just not feeling it any more with you. I think I probably need to move on to a different person who I can say positive things about and really mean it. Or just not say anything at all.”
RS: “You know what? Get out of my bathroom. I mean it. Right now. This is the last time we are ever talking in the bathroom mirror –ever. Or any kind of mirror for that matter. Understand?!. Just GET OUT!” (mumble to myself “Phony poser wandering around my bathroom every morning. That’s not right. That’s just weird. I cannot believe that i.have let my PSTS in my bathroom every morning while dressing for the past 25 years. That’s crazy!”
That’s it. PSTS left. And now I feel terrible. I was way too hard on him. And, deep down, I know he is right and just didn’t know how to communicate it to me.
I hope he comes back tomorrow morning. I really feel awful now and could use one of his corny pep talks. Heck, I miss the little guy.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Dec 31, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET I am mad at my wife right now –at 12:50am — and am going to write about it on Facebook.
I am mad at Rebecca because she got a little exasperated with me for asking her a question again —and said I had asked her that same question 20 times and the answer was the same for the 20th time — that she didn’t know.
Then I decided I wouldn’t be talked to like that and pretended to go to sleep until Rebecca settled down and apologized for hurting my feelings.
For one thing, I didn’t really ask her that question 20 times. I only asked her 3 or 4 times. Or 5 times, maybe, tops. But definitely not 20. So she is exagerating about that. And she didn’t tell me she didn’t know the answer 20 times either. Just 3 or 4 times. Or 5 times, maybe, tops.
And to make matters worse, after I pretended to go to sleep waiting for Rebecca to apologize, she never even apologized. Or said anything at all. I kept waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. And then I waited a little more. Finally I said, “Good night,” to let her know I was serious about going to sleep and that she better hurry up and apologize fast before it was too late.
But she never did. She just said “Good night” back and went to sleep herself!! And now is in a deep dern sleep and I don’t know what to do because I never did go to sleep like I was pretending I was about to.
It sure doesn’t look like Rebecca is going to apologize to me tonight. And she probably won’t remember this whole episode tomorrow morning — and the need to apologize to me unless I remind her. But when I do that it usually doesn’t work out well for me —and somehow before it is all over I am the one apologizing to her. And I don’t want that to happen again.
I am thinking about coughing or stirring in bed to wake Rebecca up to give her one last chance to apologize. But the last time I did that Rebecca didn’t apologize at all and told me to quit coughing and quit moving around and go to sleep. Which made things even worse for me. And I don’t want that to happen again either.
So this time I am not going to wake up Rebecca but just write about her a little bit on Facebook — like I am now and calmly lay out my entire side of the story all factual-like and rationally and remind her how I didn’t wake her up or bring it up in the morning like in the past. I am simply going to tag Rebecca on this post.
If things go as planned, Rebecca will wake up and read this post and realize how she overreacted and what a great guy I am for not waking her up or reminding her about it the next morning and feel really bad about the whole thing. Bad enough to apologize to me for getting a little huffy with me and then tell me she knows I really didn’t ask her that silly question 20 times but only 3 or 4 times. Or 5 times, maybe, tops.
Oh…And after I forgive her and tell her not to worry about it she will tell me how much she loves me and what an amazing person and husband I am.
At least that’s my plan. Fingers crossed!
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Dec 30, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET I am not doing this to brag. But I just considered, in my mind, running a 5K race —someday. And meant it. Not for sure. But meant it in the sense of “I’m kinda serious this time. I could actually see it maybe happening. It’s only, like, 3.1 miles.” In that sense.
Admittedly, this isn’t a definitive proclamation. And, no, it is not a Facebook announcement about something significant I recently achieved. But it is about something. In the past when I would think about running a 5k race one of these days, I never seriously believed it would ever happen. But this time, just now tonight, when I thought about one day running a 5K race —sometime in the next few years—I could see it “possibly happening.” Not for sure. Not even “more likely than not.” Heck, maybe only a 5% chance of actually occurring. But that is something. And maybe even closer to a 7% or 8% chance of running a 5K. And that was enough to get me excited. Excited enough to think seriously about it and knowing that even though it is unlikely, it is still possible that it could happen.
And that is what I am announcing tonight on Facebook.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Dec 29, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET  At Dave Chappelle show at the Palace with Rebecca.
Great show…sitting in a sea of white people —each of whom is thinking “If Dave looks at me he will probably realize I am not as ‘white’ as the other white people around me.”
Until we look at each other in the audience. And realize Dave probably won’t think that.
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The lowlight, for me, of the Dave Chappelle performance last night.
It was during the warm-up.
The DJ was trying to get the audience going and pumped up to cheer on Dave taking the stage.
He shouted, “How many 90’s babies do we have out there?” There was a big cheer.
“How ’bout let’s here it for the 80’s babies out there tonight.” Another big roar.
“All you 70’s babies in the crowd tonight, stand-up and let me heaaaar youuuu.” More cheering though a diminished amount.
And as I waited eagerly to stand up and rock it out for 60’s babies in the house, the DJ stopped at the 70s.
Asshole DJ. What are we? The grandparents driving the rest of the audience home?
Oh well. The joke was on him. I was too tired to stand up again anyway.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Dec 26, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET
There comes a moment in every man’s life when he has to admit that he is no longer a bad ass. Mine just came now.
I just got my very first flu shot ever at the age of 51. And I am already feeling a slight fever coming on.
And about 15 minutes after that moment of realizing you aren’t a bad ass anymore, you are forced to admit that you probably never were a bad ass in the first place. That moment just happened to me now, too. (Actually about 15 minutes after the first realization.)
While Googling to see if “bad ass” is one word or two before making a Facebook post about not being a bad ass anymore — or maybe ever.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Dec 25, 2014 at 1:30 PM ET  Merry Christmas!
Younger days with my sisters and mom and dad. When everything was possible, days ran long and years seemed like an eternity. And Christmas was a monumental and defining event for how good a year it had been.
And Santa Claus was everything we wanted him to be –and was more real than family members we lived with. And chased around the yard between Santa’s visits.
P.S. This is a particularly poignant picture because tonight my sister Sandy told me this picture reminded her of how she remembered me during our childhood. Happy, engaged and very busy in my own unencumbered world.
I liked that a lot.
And hope the very same for every child. Especially mine…even though they aren’t really children any more. But hope they never forget how to be childlike and unencumbered.
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A Santa Claus “Hail Mary”
Dear Santa,
I know that now is late in the Christmas game, so to speak, but wanted to reach out to you before midnight and just say “Hi” and wish you and Mrs Claus and the entire Claus family a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
I know how hard you have worked and just want you to know how much I personally appreciate all you do. So, thanks and be safe tonight. It is really cold in some parts and foggy for the reindeer. Be careful!
Oh and by the way, I am sure you got my Christmas list earlier and I appreciate you taking the time to read it all. I know it was long.
I suspect at first blush after reading my long present list you probably thought to yourself, “Whaaaat?? This guy thinks he deserves all this?” LOL!! I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I probably would do the same thing if I were in your shoes. But let me try to explain.
I totally get the whole “naughty and nice” algorithm you use to decide who gets what kind and what quantity of gifts. I think it is a good system personally. At the same time I think we can both agree that there can sometimes be the occasional oversight with the current system and, perhaps, in those few cases when that happens, a closer look may be warranted.
Look, I will be the first to admit I did not get off to a great start this year. But I think it is important to look at how I trended upward at the end of the year and how promising that should be for next year. And if I felt, you know, disappointed with my presents tomorrow….how that might discourage me at a pivotal time when I am trending so positively with “nice” behavior.
I am not trying to make you feel responsible for my bad behavior next year if I get discouraged tomorrow after opening my presents. Not at all. I am just asking you to try to understand human behavior and to see how something bad — and totally unintended— like that could really happen. And how none of us would want that to occur.
Just think about it.Ok? That’s all I am saying.
And remember, the majority of reputable psychologists today would agree that a few isolated episodes of “bad behavior” doesn’t make someone a “bad person” or a “not nice person,” to use the Christmas parlance. We have leaned a lot from social sciences in the past hundred years since Christmas started and I think it is OK to take that into consideration.
Earlier this year when you probably gave me some pretty bad marks I want you to know that I wasn’t being “bad” because I wanted to be evil. I was just in a bad place personally and made some bad choices at that time. And that is all behind me now. Almost all of it. I swear.
Anyway, I have taken up enough of your time already. Heck, this is just a good luck and Merry Christmas note I wanted to dash off to you. Sorry for getting so longwinded. Just thinking out loud and wanted to share it with you because I have so much respect for you as a person.
I hope some of it made sense and you can see how Christmas presents need to be based not so much on a static “this year’s behavior” metric but also on a dynamic “next year’s projected behavior based in trend lines” (and detailed explanations like this one.)
I will also private message you some graphs I have put together to help illustrate my points.
OK, Santa!! Another great year coming up for all of us!! I can just feel it. Those graphs are on their way!!
Merry Christmas, Santa! And thank you in advance for always keeping such an open mind!! And being such an understanding and jolly old soul!!
Sincerely — make that “Love,”
Your good friend, John
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Dec 25, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET Some of the reasons I love my wife (and some of the reasons I thinks she loves me):
Last night Rebecca picked me up at the airport so we could eat dinner at our favorite restaurant nearby –and she got to the airport 15 minutes early and waited. But when I came outside from the baggage claim doors I couldn’t find her car anywhere and it was because Rebecca was parked and waiting for me instead at the “Departing Flights” level just outside Delta.
I went upstairs to the ticket counter level and found Rebecca, the sole car parked on that level with music playing inside the car. We hugged and Rebecca drove us to dinner. As we were walking inside I reminded Rebecca to lock the car door and she reached inside her purse but couldn’t find her car keys. Rebecca told me to wait at the door while she went back to the car to look for the keys. For about 12 minutes. Which felt longer to both of us because it was cold outside. When I asked her where the keys were she sheepishly admitted that it turned out they had been inside her purse all along.
Once inside we were about to be seated but Rebecca saw a friend and went over and talked to her and her son and introduced me to the husband. And after about 10 minutes Rebecca finished talking and we sat down and she looked at me with her enthusiastic eyes like she always does and I tried not to say anything but, of course, I did. “You know, sweetie, when you see someone you know at a restaurant it is probably best not to talk for such a long time because their food will get cold.” I was trying to sound helpful but really was just hungry.
“Oh, they were already finished eating. Didn’t you notice that?” Rebecca explained.
“Well, yes. In this instance. But I am talking more about as a general rule of thumb.” I clarified.
“Oh. OK” Rebecca agreed. “Let’s order. I’m hungry.”
We had a nice dinner and then Rebecca had to drop me off back at the airport so I could pick up my car and drive home. But she forgot and missed the exit and after I pointed out she had missed the exit, she laughed and kept telling me the story she was in the middle of telling me and almost missed the next exit to turn around and go back to the airport for my car.
“Honey,” I blurted out, “I love this story but we really need to get this next exit right.”
“I wonder how I ever got my license?” Rebecca wryly chuckled.
I said that I wasn’t surprised she had gotten her license because it was pretty easy to get a driving license but that she was in luck to have someone like me as a passenger who could help her become a truly exceptional driver –and that in addition to “driving tips” I also offered free advice on things like the appropriate amount of time to talk to a friend you see at a restaurant among other things. “Try to think of me as a ‘life coach’ that you get for free.” I said and added “Aren’t you lucky? You get your very own free life coach with me.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes, “I tried being your life coach and have retired .”
“Because I reached perfection?” I joked.
“Uh. No. Because I reached exhaustion” Rebecca said with a strained laugh.
I smiled self-confidently and added, “Well, I will still be your life coach.”
Rebecca dropped me off at the airport baggage claim so I could get my car. I gave her a quick kiss and then got out of the car and walked toward the parking garage as Rebecca drove off. I stepped through several bushes hoping to find a path to the entrance to the parking garage. An airport employee shouted, “Hey! There is no way to get into the garage through those bushes. You have to come back across the street and go inside and downstairs and through the tunnel.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I Knew that.”
After all, I am a life coach.
And this story, in a nutshell, explains the glue of our marriage. My happy-go-lucky wife who drives me everywhere while I offer advice that makes me feel she needs me. And she knows she doesn’t but listens anyway because she also knows I need to feel like she needs me. And she probably knew, as she pulled away from the airport, that I couldn’t get to the parking garage by walking through those bushes but didn’t say anything. Because she thinks it’s cute— and endearing –that her “life coach,” who she just dropped off after listening to his nonstop driving advice, doesn’t even know how to get to his own car.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Dec 24, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET A Samaritan named John shopped long and hard one day at a large all-purpose consumer goods store. When he finished paying for his items he placed his several bags in a shopping cart because he remembered he had parked in the far back of the parking lot and was too lazy to personally carry the shopping bags that far all by himself.
The shopping cart made everything mucb easier and after John had placed the shopping bags in his car he looked at the empty shopping cart and felt tired. John then looked at how far away the entrance to the store (where he picked up the shopping cart) now appeared to be. John then decided to look around the parking lot to see if anyone was watching him and if he could get away with leaving the empty shopping cart in the back of the parking lot and nobody notice.
John decided he could and started to get into his car with a quickened pace. But something stopped him. A pang of guilt tugged at his heart which softened as he thought about some stranger having to push his shopping cart all the way back to the store entrance even though they didn’t even use it to shop.
John knew that was wrong and felt called upon by the Lord to act righteously and not self-servingly. At that moment, John the Samaritan locked his car doors with his remote car locking device and grabbed the cart with a convicted grip and pushed his shopping cart all the way to the store entrance where he stopped to see if anyone had noticed his charitable deed.
No one appeared to be looking at Samaritan John’s good deed at that moment so John decided to wait for someone to eventually turn up who would notice and publicly affirm his righteousness. A kind faced elderly woman passed by John pushing her shopping cart back to the store entrance and locking it into the shopping cart que. Samaritan John smiled benevolently at the woman as if to say, “Look at me. I am doing that too. I am one of the few good people at this large all-purpose consumer goods store, just like you. We are pretty great, huh?”
Samaritan John didn’t say this out loud because that would be committing the sin of pride. He just thought it and quitely returned to his car full of shopping bags, unlocked his car door with his remote device, and drove home whereupon Samaritan John transcribed the parable of his good deed today and posted it on Facebook. Not to boast, of course. But so that others might learn from his good deed and do good too.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Dec 23, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET I would like to know who the asshole is who bought his true love all the things listed below one Christmas and then put in a song to brag about.
He makes all the rest of us look bad.
And the fact this song gets sung over and over this time each year only rubs it in.
I mean, come on! Even if we guys got all this for our true loves, where would you put it all? And don’t you think by January you would be bored and tired of almost all of them, except maybe the golden rings?
Besides, I am guessing by the 13th day of Christmas, this guy declared bankrupcy, was charged with kidnapping 12 drummers, 11 pipers, 10 lords, 9 ladies and 8 maids, and was institutionalized or sent to prison.
I know having all this stuff sounds good. But do you really want to be with a guy like that?
Just think it through.
12 Drummers Drumming
11 Pipers Piping
10 Lords a Leaping
9 Ladies Dancing
8 Maids a Milking
7 Swans a Swimming
6 Geese a Laying
5 Golden Rings
4 Calling Birds
3 French Hens
2 Turtle Doves
1 Partridge in a Pear Tree
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