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
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Dec 19, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET For the first time I just had the urge to post something on Facebook –but resisted doing it. Because —and this is so weird for me to type — because it seemed “silly.” I can’t recall that ever happening to me. Ever!
I don’t know what this means …but I fear it means something. That something unusual is happening to me. Something pivotal. Like that first deep raspy cough you notice before pnuemonia sets it. Or like the feeling when a fever breaks and you know you are going to be okay.
I feel like this disinclination to post something absurd and pointless on Facebook may well be the first “deep cough” or “fever break,” so to speak, indicating the beginning of the end of my mid-life crisis.
I mean, of course it is true that the trajectory of a mid-life crisis can’t go up and up forever. At some.point it has to decline and resolve itself. After all, the “crisis” part of the term “mid-life crisis” suggests a downward spiral. So, you kmow, one more reason the upward trajectory thing can’t go on forever.
If this is true I am going to start acting more maturely in all kinds of ordinary situations. People won’t recognize me and others will wonder if I died or moved out of the country or was buried alive by someone who had to spend a lot of time around me.
Others may wonder if I am finally starting to grow up and act my own age. And if this “grown-up acting thing” really takes hold of me, still others may simply conclude that I have come down with pnuemonia. Or that my fever has finally broken.
I don’t know what I will do with myself.
Or maybe this means I am going to start really getting into Instagram?
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Dec 18, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET This holiday season be Goldilocks-esque and seek that desireable middle point between two extremes.
Don’t eat too much nor eat too little.
Don’t talk too much nor talk too little
Don’t expect too much of yourself but don’t expect too little.
Don’t expect too much of others but don’t expect too little of them either.
Don’t sleep too much but don’t sleep too little.
Don’t buy too much but don’t buy too little.
Don’t feel too much but be sure to not feel too little.
Don’t think too much nor think too little.
Don’t act too old but don’t act too young.
Don’t love too mucb but be sure not to love too litle.
Don’t eat anything too hot and don’t eat anything too cold. Only eat things at the temperature that is “just right.”
Make sure your bed isn’t too soft or too hard –but “just right”
And don’t try to be too good but don’t be too bad either. Strive instesd to be “just right.”
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Dec 17, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET There is a time to love
There is a time to hate
There is a time to be sad
There is a time to be joyful
There is a time to judge
There is a time to seek forgiveness
There is a time to feel ecstatic and have hallucinations
There is a time to feel paranoid and have cotton mouth
And there is a time to titrate your medications
By Lauren Mayer, on Wed Dec 17, 2014 at 8:30 AM ET Bill O’Reilly et al. like to paint themselves as victims of a secular conspiracy to destroy the meaning of Christmas. To hear them tell it, our founding fathers based the Constitution on a mashup of the bible (only selected portions, mind you, none of that keeping kosher stuff) and the Burl Ives ‘Frosty The Snowman’ TV special. So any attempt to reflect the diversity of our country around this time of year is not only unAmerican, but it threatens the very existence of the holiday they are thus compelled to defend.
Maybe if they got out of their studio once in a while, they’ll get a sense of just how well Christmas is doing versus any other holiday. Even here in the godlessly liberal/socialist Bay Area, every mall, business, or residential street looks like an elf’s wet dream, festooned with tinsel, red & green baubles, and enough mechanical reindeer & inflated lit-up snowmen to completely confuse my dog every time I walk her. (Not to mention the fact that Christmas has totally taken over Thanksgiving, and is probably going after Halloween and Labor Day next . . . )
Meanwhile, Bob Geldof has trotted out yet another rendition of his classic/monstrosity (depending on your perspective), “Do They Know It’s Christmas,” this time to raise awareness of Ebola, but continuing in the same vein of overblown rock anthem as expressed by patronizing Westerners. (Apparently, just in Nigera there are 3 times as many Christians as in England, so it seems like they don’t need Geldof’s song to enlighten them.) So in that same spirit, here’s my own overblown anthem in an effort to raise awareness of the existence of other holidays.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Dec 16, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET Minnesota is probably my favorite place anywhere to freeze my arse off (during the winter, anyway).
The people are pretty close to how they are depicted in Lake Wobegon –but Keillor did embellish a little bit. Not everyone is really above average. But not many seem below average either.
Minnesotans seem a lot like Kentuckians ….they are just as nice but they don’t try quite as hard as we do. They walk faster (because of the cold), talk faster (not sure why….maybe a “Viking thing”), and say “You betcha” a lot. When they talk they sound like a nasally and impatient Southerner — without any of the Southern accent, of course, but with all the friendly and kindly disposition. When you talk to them (if you are from Kentucky), you sound more Southern than you thought you sounded. And Minnesotans are fun to talk to and easy to make friends with.
I guess what I am saying is that Minnesota is a much warmer place personally than it is a cold place physically. And that is saying a lot!
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Dec 15, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET I just landed…you heard me right, “landed!!” Because I flew. I have been flying…high up in the air…at wicked fast speeds ….and flew over 1000 miles —that’s right, 1000 miles!! –and all in just under 2 hours!!
We landed in cold, icy and foggy conditions. Giant wheels came down underneath the airplane at just the right time and the pilots, who were responsible for about 120 lives, calmly and smoothly landed the giant flying contraption and we all lived.
I know I have experienced this very same thing many times. But this time I was really conscious of it and paying attention. And aware of how truly amazing it really is!
And the entire mind-boggling trip cost less than two shirts and a belt I could have bought at the airport.
This flight was much better than any two shirts and a belt I have ever bought.
One man sitting 2 seats in front of me missed the whole thing because he hadn’t flown before and threw up in a complimentary bag the entire flight. He was paying close attention just like me and it must have just blown his mind –even more than it did mine. I hope he tries again.
I met the pilot as I got off the plane. He was about 15 years younger than me but real responsible looking with short well-groomed hair and not a bead of sweat on his forehead. If I had his job I would have looked more like the guy 2 seats in front of me. I wanted to say, “Sir, that was an amazing experience that I’ll never forget.” But I didn’t because I forget to remember a lot of amazing things I experience.
This was certainly one of those experiences! I just said, “Thanks” to the pilot.
And the most amazing part of all is that all I had to do was think about what I was doing for a few minutes rather than taking it for granted.
I would tell you how I am going to get home from the airport, but I doubt you would believe that either.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Dec 12, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET
When life throws you a curve ball, duck. And then get out of the way. And if you find the ball, don’t throw it back and try to hit the person who threw it at you. He may have a knife or a gun. And you don’t want things to escalate. Just let the ball lie and be glad it didn’t hit you –this time. And use your rear view mirror.
When life gives you lemons. Take them. You know what they say…free lemons!
When life is unfair, join the club. It is your turn in the barrel. Get in the barrel and roll down the hill. It’s a shorter hill than you think. And it will be someone else’s turn before you know it.
When you are betrayed by someone you trusted, don’t blame them too much. They are about average. But you can strive to be better than that. And that makes you above average. For the moment.
When someone lies to you, don’t call them out on it in an embarrassing way. Just let them know you know the truth and you know they know that you know the truth. And you don’t have to say anything to communicate that. Stay trustworthy. And make peace with the fact that you can’t trust everyone always. But keep trusting –with eyes wide open and lower expectations. Life is better that way.
When someone talks behind your back about you, step back and watch that person from a distance and say to yourself, “I wonder why that person feels a need to do that… Whatever the reason, I hope he gets over it soon” And keep that to yourself and keep doing whatever you were doing. It’s really not about you anyway. And remember, people do things behind your back because they lack the confidence and integrity to look you in the eye.
And if all these things are happening to you, remember, you are right on schedule –for a Wednesday. Be glad you are participating. Life is better that way. Keep participating, please.
But with a little wisdom, a lot humor and and a penchant for patience, this Wednesday may well be just a little bit better.
And there’s nothing wrong with carrying Pepper Spray. Some day you may need it. But only in emergences.
|
The Recovering Politician Bookstore
|
