The Bonds We Make
Somehow, we’ve already reached the last post of the year.
How did this happen?
Did someone click a fast-forward button?
Is there a Karen available to write a strongly worded letter to time? Something like:
Dear Time:
So…uh, what’s your deal, anyway? Chill out! Or I’ll need to speak to a manager.
On a similar note – we’ve now reached five years since I retired MileNerd.
Total insanity.
I can’t believe so much time has passed. But we always say that about the years flying by, don’t we? The same phrase over and over again – “I can’t believe it.”
Maybe we should start believing.
The years keep zooming and it appears that nothing…not even someone named Karen…can slow them down.
So, with such limited time, why do I do this every month? For 5 years now. After almost a decade of daily MileNerd posts. Maybe some of you have wondered this. Why sit down and write these stories for strangers? What is the point of opening up this way every month?
It’s a very simple answer…
To connect with you.
There’s literally no other reason to do this. No money being earned. No goal of someone noticing my talent and whisking me away to write a novel. And we’re 5 years past any deal talk. But the thing is…we’re connected here – in a way that I can feel. Sure, I’ve never seen most of your faces. You’ve probably never seen mine. And I doubt I could recite 10 facts about you. Maybe not one. But this feels like a connection…and it feels like that matters. Why? Because I’m a lunatic? It’s possible. Or maybe the act of opening up my heart and touching yours allows us to feel a little less lonely in some way. Look back at your life. Isn’t that what’s behind a lot of what you do? Same here. Because what would any of this journey be without the connecting?
So, yeah, doing this still feels good. And I don’t need to see your face to believe that we are connected in some way.
For the last post of the year, I’d like to share an experience that happened a few weeks ago…
As you know, game shows have been an ongoing adventure for me. A fun “side hustle” since my college days. Over the years, I’ve won a car, trips, cash, an espresso machine, knives, kitchenware, a bed, a desk, and more. I’ve also lost cars. And even helped a young girl win an Audi. The appeal of game shows is obvious. At least to those of us with “deal brains.” It’s wildly exciting. Show up empty-handed in the morning and maybe end the day with a new car. This is something I try to attempt whenever possible. If the calendar says I’ve waited the required amount of time…I’m always willing to play again. To continue this ongoing adventure.
Which brings us to November 7th…
I’d just returned from New Orleans the night before. Arriving home after midnight. Wiped out after an action-packed weekend.
(Editor’s note: A late flight followed by an early morning game show appointment = a doozy. Best to be armed with copious amounts of caffeine. Plus a syringe to inject it straight into the bloodstream)
Now, let’s be clear about this…
Is winning a car an exceptional amount of fun? Absolutely. So, yeah, an exhausting day is fine. Who am I to not show up? To not be willing to invest a few hours in this pursuit? Oh, and I could become the first person to win a car on multiple game shows. As far as I know, it has never happened. So, let’s do this.
(Those were my “good” thoughts)
Valid.
Logical.
But, man, was I exhausted. Home after midnight and awake before sunrise. Standing in line with a bunch of very boisterous people. Come on, guys. Pace yourself. We have a long day ahead.
After slowly working my way through the line and into the waiting area…I filled out paperwork. Then waited. Took pictures. Waited more. And then began a mission to find the coffee. I realized something in the midst of all this. There’s zero excitement left in me when it comes to the game show experience. I’m truly just there for the car. A crackhead gambler who can’t stop rolling the dice.
(In case you’re wondering, I didn’t win anything this particular day. Had $4,000 in my hand at one point that I ended up losing while going for the bigger prize. Because…crackhead. Just there for the car. Not four grand. First time I remember leaving a game show empty-handed)
But I did experience something that day.
And it was far more valuable than prizes or money…
I noticed a guy right away in the waiting room. In the way that strangers can sometimes catch our attention in a crowd. His name was Nick. And he lives in Mariposa. A town of 1,000 people right at the entrance of Yosemite. No traffic lights or chain stores. A Burger King did open there once and the locals weren’t exactly thrilled about it. There was such positive energy coming from this guy. Unlike many of the people around him who were trying to “act” like the life of the party. He was actually that. Cracking lots of jokes and having a great time. Just so genuinely happy to be there. But I also noticed him wincing and sitting down every so often. Probably from lifting weights or playing sports. Who knows. And, for whatever reason, he seemed to be drawn in by me too. Just kind of how it goes with people. Random little things get us talking to random strangers. No telling where those conversations might go. Nick talked about Mariposa and how different it is from the big city. He spoke about his wife and 3 kids. His eyes lighting up while he talked about them. What a special thing that is for kids to have from their dad. It’s a feeling I longed to know when I was their age. Hopefully one day they’ll understand what a gift it was to have in their young lives.
Nick really wanted to say his kids’ names on the show. He repeated that goal multiple times. With his boundless enthusiasm. I asked what he hoped to win. His ideal prize was a trip – maybe somewhere exotic. He mentioned Turks and Caicos. Also Thailand. When I asked a question about his kids, he began to cry. This came totally out of nowhere. The guy was in such a happy mood other than his occasional wincing. Those tears were such a surprise…
And then he told me about his cancer.
It’s in his liver. Stage 4.
Terminal.
What do you say in a moment like that? Hard to get too much out with a lump in your throat. But I certainly didn’t want to ask how long he had to live. I did find out later (from his sister) that it’s 3 months or so. One of my first thoughts was that he wouldn’t even receive the trip in time to be able to go on it. So strange how our brains work. A kind-hearted father with 3 months to live – and I’m thinking about him not being able to take a trip. The whole thing was heartbreaking. Such a kind man with this big capacity for joy. The type of person who should be alive. Who seems to know how to do it right. But I guess there’s no should. Only what is. And, in this reality, his cancer started in another part of his body and then just kept spreading. They tried everything. I gathered most of this information from his sister.
What was she like?
Man, it was just full-on brother/sister vibes. Constant clowning. Nonstop teasing. You could see exactly how they were as kids together. And I guess that’s how it goes with siblings. You hold on to that same dynamic. No other relationship in the world quite like it. But she also kept checking on him. In subtle ways as to not take away from the fun. I asked her what she wanted to win. Was it a trip? A car? Something else?
She whispered, “Just for him to have a great day.”
Made sure he was out of earshot.
And then right back to busting balls.
I’m so jaded about game shows that I’d been chugging coffee just to get my energy up. To have the necessary pump when needed. I was there for a car. But these two? They showed up for something else. See, he’s a big fan of the show. Knows all the games. And there are a few things he wants to do with his remaining days. This was on the bucket list.
For me, the day started as nothing more than attempt number 6 to win some new wheels. But it felt like a very special occasion for him. And his enthusiasm was contagious. It didn’t take long for me to be rooting for the guy to have a great day too. By the third hour of waiting, a few others in the room knew his story. Word had spread. Strangers now becoming friends. Not because he’s dying. But because of how he’s living. That appetite for life. And all of the joy he was spreading in the room. Both siblings are pretty successful in their professional lives. This was about getting to play on his favorite show, not about the prize itself.
Those two were there to soak in the moment.
To share the day together.
Me? Just a crackhead gambler showing up for a car at first. But now this was about something else. We finally went into the studio around noon. After hours of conversations since we’d arrived at 7:00. I really got to know the guy. And have thought of him many times in the weeks since. They placed everyone in groups of 3 in the studio. A very specific seating order to know who to call down, where those people are located, and so on. Nick, his sister, and I were placed together. Our own little gang. And what a gift it was to watch them during the taping. Not like some Hallmark movie where a brother and sister are tame with each other. It was constant ribbing, laughing, and mocking. They were having an absolute blast. But there was no way to miss what was happening behind their eyes. They both knew this was a special occasion. Something precious to hold onto. The clock is ticking fast. Without the luxury of thinking, “I can’t believe it.”
They have to believe it. But what do you actually do in a situation like that? When there’s no time to waste? You still have to live out those hours. Nobody’s goal is to spend 3 months in the fetal position. So there they were. Busting balls. Laughing. With the occasional cry. Only from him, though. Her eyes welled up a few times – but she was there to make sure he had a great day. And to have that for herself too. She was there to share this with him. Standing with her brother as he crossed an item off his bucket list.
By then, I was part of this little gang. Inside a nonstop montage of chatting, laughing, cheering, and dancing. High-fives and hugs. With some wincing along the way. Nick did win his trip. To the place I’d just returned from 12 hours earlier. New Orleans. As you can imagine, I gave him a long list of food recommendations. With the understanding that he probably won’t be alive to take that trip. He knew it and I knew it. But we still had the conversation as if it could happen. Nick and his sister were the only people that day who got to play a game together as a team. Pretty sure that wasn’t an accident. Each sibling gave me a bear hug as we said goodbye. Nick has my number and knows I’ll try to find him a good deal to Thailand if he wants to go. But I’m not sure that trip will happen. I think maybe this day was the trip. Much more about winning on his favorite show than taking an exotic vacation. I can’t imagine I’ll ever see them again, but I won’t forget the day we shared.
And all that I witnessed.
I’ve tried to win a car 6 times on game shows since I was a college kid. Was lucky enough to do it once. Plus a bunch of other prizes along the way. But I feel like I was able to be around something truly special this day. We’re all running out of time like Nick is. The hourglass emptying. We just don’t know when it’ll be. So, what do we do? I think maybe we all just try our best to figure it out, right? Getting as much crossed off from our bucket lists as we can. And if we’re lucky enough to have people we love on this journey? We try to share some special moments with them. To feel what it is to connect. Because, without that, what’s the point of any of this?
We live in an increasingly disconnected world. I think that probably scares me. And maybe it scares you too. So, together, let’s remember how important it is to reach out to people. To keep our hearts open. And to let others in.
I wish you a very happy holiday season, my friends.
A perfect time of year to connect with those around you.
