I should probably be more realistic about my New Year’s resolutions.
Like many of you, I will eat better…
For a week.
I’ll look deep into the eyes of my family and friends to
articulate how much they matter…
Just as infrequently as ever.
And I’ll exercise with WAY more intensity…
(until I get tired of doing that)
So, instead of improvement, maybe my goal for the new year should
be avoiding any further decay. On that note, here are…
The 10 types of people I want to avoid becoming in 2020:
Dude who uses his speakerphone in public. What possible explanation is there for being that annoying? I certainly can’t go down the path of speakerphone dude in this new year. Because then I’ll just be a quick hop away from becoming a total sociopath….one who does the darkest of deeds…yes, texting in a movie theater. It’s critical I keep a close eye on my speakerphone use in 2020.
Man who wakes people up from naps for no
reason at all. You know the type, right? That special breed of jackass who wakes people up
just to say something inane like, “Wow you were out for a while, huh?”
Guy who says “that’s hilarious” instead of
laughing.
It seems so simple. When something is funny, humans laugh. How the hell do you mess
with a natural reaction that even a toddler has perfected? Hopefully I’ll make
it through the new year without screwing up my basic human instincts.
Someone who insists on greeting others with a kiss on the cheek. How does that work, exactly? Do I kiss one cheek or both? Is there some light fondling involved? Man, I feel like I just figured out all of the various handshakes. Well, hopefully I can continue to draw the line at hugging.
A person who uses phrases like “the biz” or “the hobby.” Clearly, this is unforgivable. But, beyond that, if I start using words like “slay,” “hashtag triggered,” or “movember,” please find me and scream loudly in my face. I will deserve that.
Guy who can’t figure out how to enter an elevator. After a lifetime of getting into elevators, why is it still such an unsolvable puzzle for some? Is it really that difficult to let people out before trying to squeeze awkwardly past them? Fingers crossed that I can escape 2020 without joining the ranks of the elevator morons.
Dude who brings his stinky food on an airplane. Remember the middle seat guy who ate a can of tuna 90 minutes after takeoff? Well, I do. Because he sat inches from me last week and I’m still recovering from it. Which brings us to…
Foodie who makes weirdly sexual noises when eating. I enjoy great cuisine as much as anyone, but do we actually need to hear orgasmic moaning in a restaurant? If you happen to hear those types of sounds from me at a dinner table in the new year, please consider it a midlife crisis situation. And send help.
Person who won’t learn the difference between “your” and “you’re.” Normally, I’d say that’s the rock-bottom scenario for me. But there’s still one potential 2020 outcome that’s far more disturbing…
Dude who continues to say “Happy New Year” in April. If I become that type of creature, it will probably mean that I’m also a leave-the-Christmas-lights-up-all-year man. Which is a clear indication that I’ve given up completely. No matter how bad this year gets…even if all else fails…I must draw the line at “Happy New Year” greetings before winter turns to spring.
Since it’s only January 1st, it’s still safe to wish you guys all the best in 2020. Let’s all aspire to be something…anything…other than the people above. Happy new year, nerds!
I don’t think I heard that question one time in all the
years I was doing the MileNerd thing.
But I’ve gotten it multiple times since retiring the blog and
typing whatever the hell I feel like once a month.
Man, it’s a tough question…
First, I’m obviously no Ernest Hemingway. On an Ern scale…my
brainpower is closer to Ernest Goes To Camp. Or possibly Ernie from Sesame
Street. I’m a very low-ranking Ern. But I guess this niche hobby has always had
an absurdly poor level of competition. When I was MileNerd-ing for all those
years, I wasn’t exactly surrounded by professional writers. Anyone would have
looked great compared to those shady twatwaffles who were shitting out their sales
brochures disguised as blogs.
Anyone can seem like Charlize Theron if the rest of the room
is full of Roseanne Barrs.
But I thought about it recently. Since so many people seem
to like what I do with words…maybe I’ve actually picked up some things here along
the way. So I’ll try to answer the question as best I can.
Here are the top 5 things I’ve learned about writing over
the years:
1. When a writer habitually misspells words (as if it’s a lifestyle choice), people will assume that writer is a dumbass.
Is that opinion always accurate? Probably not.
But showing basic care about spelling does matter. Sure, an occasional typo is normal. That’s not what I’m referring to. There’s plenty of abnormal out there right now. Scan any comment section on the internet and you’ll eventually find the words, “Your an idiot.” If, as a writer, that doesn’t make you want to run into a forest and scream…then it’s possible you’re not much of a writer yet.
Musicians will nerd out with music…tech geeks tend to nerd out with gadgets…and writers always nerd out about language. It’s pretty simple…if you are, in fact, a writer…words REALLY matter.
2. Good writers will put their personalities out there in a vulnerable way.
Comedians often talk about “finding their voice.” And I believe it’s similar for writers. You need to dig out your personality to fill the blank page with life. It took years for me to understand the difference between saying:
(A) Hilton’s devaluation is disappointing.
and
(B) Hilton is now essentially a fax machine. I know it exists in the world, but I have zero use for it.
Obviously, we all have such different personalities. Typically, there’s a correlation between a writer getting “better” and that writer finding their unique voice. Readers want you. Give them that.
3. Trying to impress readers with big words is amateur hour stuff.
Your writing
goal should be connecting to other humans…not proving your intelligence to yourself.
Do – Find ways to make things personal.
Don’t – Use vocabulary as a way of proving your superiority over readers.
Last month, I wrote:
“We ate bologna sandwiches at his house and tandoori chicken at mine”
For me, that’s more effective than writing:
“We shared several extraordinary meals of various cuisines”
Remember…the more personal it is, the more universal it is.
4. Have an opinion about what you’re saying.
Why bother writing words if you don’t give a shit about them? Embrace the fact that you’re a storyteller. We all are. Even with something as dry as miles and points, you can do better than just reporting facts. Look for little opportunities to paint a picture.
Last month, I wrote: “He was everything I wasn’t. Confident, handsome, and possibly the most athletic person in the world. He dribbled a basketball like he had Olympic tryouts the next day. His blonde hair bounced gracefully as he drained shot after shot. What was this…a Salon Selectives commercial?”
See how that last sentence is the payoff? Everything before it was a setup to get to that line. So, once I finally get there…the extra detail works so much better than just saying: “What was this…a shampoo commercial?”
Find those moments of specificity. Don’t overuse them, because your writing still needs to flow. But having those little moments, within a well-written piece, will make people fall in love with your writing. Obviously, do it in a way that’s 100% your own. Allow your voice to come out. If you’re not naturally funny, there are SO MANY different ways to be specific.
5. Be willing to throw stuff out.
I find that good writers can be obsessive about it. You really know when you finally put a perfect sentence together. It sure as hell doesn’t happen often. And, for a writer, that moment feels amazing. You’ve solved a very challenging puzzle.
But…
You’ve got to be honest when something just isn’t working. You can’t be
precious about throwing stuff out. I mean, as an overgrown child…I’ve been
trying to find a way to land a joke about the number 69 for years. Literally
years. But, thankfully, I can usually see when I’m being an idiot. And none of
those jokes ever worked…so they all got thrown into the dumpster.
That’s where a lot of your ideas are destined to go.
Other times, you’ll come up with something that you know in your gut has
potential…but it isn’t fully there yet.
Here’s an example…
I started scribbling notes about an idea called, “When The Space Aliens Invade”
way back in 2011. But I never figured out how to express my thought in a way
that lands. So, let’s head into the lab to see why this stayed in the unfinished
pile.
When the aliens invade
You’ll finally have something real to worry about
There won’t be any time to fight over politics
We won’t be insecure about brand names
Or the size of our homes
You won’t need more botox in your face
And can stop chasing after dollar bills
Nobody will be bullied because of the color of their skin
Or worried about who’s marrying who
Mothers won’t pressure daughters about weight
Fathers won’t care about sons being manly
Homeless or rich
All sides of the track
We’ll be in it together
Side by side
No time to call each other names
Or to look down our noses
We’ll pick up those who fall
We’ll ask for help
We’ll all be on the same team
Brothers and sisters
Finally
So…when do the aliens invade?
As you can see, there’s a decent half-idea there. The start of something interesting that doesn’t quite work yet. It’s one of many things that I started to write but couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe I’ll figure it out and maybe I won’t. Overall, I think this is what I’ve noticed about writing…
Most people don’t nerd out with it. So, if you actually care enough to spend time in the pursuit of finding your voice…if you actually obsess about how to get your thoughts “just so” in writing…
You are a writer.
And you should probably keep doing it.
Beyond that…if you learn anything else along the way…let me know.
It was the summer before fifth grade. My parents said, “We’re
moving to West Virginia.”
I climbed into the old station wagon…fiddled nervously with my
calculator watch…and wondered what was waiting on the other end of this road
trip.
Western Virginia? Never heard of it.
As a skinny 10 year-old wearing the thickest glasses known to mankind…I certainly wasn’t going to take over this new town. I was far too busy being self-conscious. About everything from the style of my clothes to the size of my nose. But I knew life must move fast in West Virginia (a sentence that had never been uttered before), and maybe it was time for me to grow up.
Driving through the new neighborhood felt like entering a cold,
strange forest. Massive trees everywhere. Each one taller than the last. By my calculations,
there had to be a 99% chance that the new house was haunted. But my parents looked
thrilled to walk through that door. And their first-day fun might have lasted…if
I didn’t overflow the toilet within 10 minutes of our arrival. My mom watched me
loiter aimlessly after breaking the bathroom, and strongly suggested:
“Take a walk. Explore your new surroundings.”
Now that was a great idea. Exploration. It’s exactly what
a grownup would do. So I put on my lucky off-brand Air Jordans (in case I
needed to run through the haunted forest). And off I went. Like a tiny Neil
Armstrong discovering new worlds. As I reached the end of the street, a loud neighborhood
kid yelled from his driveway:
“Hey weird kid, come over here!”
Uh-oh.
Was he going to tease me about my absurdly thick glasses?
Did he sense my fear?
How did he know I was weird?
As I tiptoed toward his house, I got a closer look at the guy. We seemed to be the same age. And he was everything I wasn’t. Confident, handsome, and possibly the most athletic person in the world. He dribbled a basketball like he had Olympic tryouts the next day. His blonde hair bounced gracefully as he drained shot after shot. What was this…a Salon Selectives commercial?
Then he rolled the ball over and said, “Shoot it!”
Gulp.
My messy brillo hair stayed in one unmoving clump as I
dribbled the ball…
…right off my foot.
Sigh.
But, for some reason, the future Olympian and I hit it off.
Maybe he’d never seen a brown guy before.
Maybe he was secretly impressed by my calculator watch.
Or maybe he just needed a friend too.
However it happened…I suddenly felt less alone. And that changed everything for me. West Virginia wasn’t a strange, possibly-haunted forest anymore. It was a fun playground. I hung out with my new buddy all summer. We ate bologna sandwiches at his house and tandoori chicken at mine. Rode bikes for hours at a time. I’d known zero curse words a few weeks ago…now I was fluent in all of them.
Maybe this was grownup status?
Nope.
See, fifth grade was only days away and I was terrified that
my peers would laugh at the weird kid.
Could I convince my mom to take me shopping somewhere cool…like Burlington Coat Factory?
No such luck.
Well, when school started…through some sort of magic…I wasn’t the freak that everyone laughed at. For some reason, other kids actually wanted to be my friend. Sure, there were times I felt out of place. Like the first day of deer hunting season – when the 2 Chinese boys and I were the only dudes in school. But, overall, it started to feel like home. Most days, the bell rang and I biked around the neighborhood with my friends. All these years later, only one of those afternoons is still tattooed on my brain…
I remember every detail as if it happened just yesterday…
We were running through the streets shooting water guns,
laughing, and acting like the clowns we were. When, out of nowhere, we heard a
loud scream from the house in front of us. Not cartoony like in the movies. It
was the actual sound of terror. And it stopped us in our tracks. For the next couple
of minutes, we heard violent crashing and yelling followed by a woman’s desperate
screams. She was pleading for this person to stop doing whatever he was doing.
Until it finally stopped.
A man stormed out of the house, jumped into his car, and
peeled tires as he raced away.
We stood in that street…water guns dangling by our sides. All
of us had dysfunctional families, but this was something very different. It was
clear that the man had beaten up a woman inside that house. We heard it all. So
I turned to my friends and asked what we should do. I wasn’t the leader of the
group…just its nerdiest member. But it was obvious…even to a group of kids…that
something seriously wrong was going on inside that house. Everyone looked frozen,
so I decided to knock on the door. I thought maybe that’s what a grownup would
do?
I tiptoed up to the porch and gently touched the doorbell.
(My armpits were sweating like there was a faucet inside my
shirt)
A few seconds later, a woman appeared. She was young and
pretty….it looked like she could have been one of the teachers at my school. Her
face was in terrible shape. Two black eyes were starting to form and she was swelling
up.
(I was completely overwhelmed by the moment)
With a whisper I asked, “Do you need help?”
She looked at me coldly and responded:
“Mind your own business.”
And then she closed the door.
The years passed quickly. Like other kids, I spent less and
less time playing outside. My glasses were replaced by contact lenses…the
calculator watch was replaced by video games…and, eventually, the bicycle was replaced
by a car. I was 17 now. A badass with the freedom to drive anywhere.
(Which usually meant the local mall)
One random day, I walk out of the arcade…
And see her sitting in the food court.
She’s 7 years older but I could never forget her face. I grab a slice of pizza (that I’m too nervous to eat) and sit a couple of tables away. Time has not been kind to her. She seemed young before…now she looks totally lifeless. More broken. I’m not a mind reader, but it’s certainly possible he’s been beating on her for all these years.
And then she sees me.
It looks like there’s a moment of recognition. The faintest of
double-takes. Maybe I’m imagining it. Then again, I’m literally the only Indian
male my age in this town. I take a quick peek back and notice one of her lifeless
eyes has a tear in it.
Oh man.
What the hell would a grownup do in this situation?
And then I think back to her words from all those years ago:
“Mind your own business.”
So I did.
I threw out my uneaten pizza, turned in the opposite
direction, and left the mall without looking back.
In the years that have passed, I’ve thought about her from
time to time. Why did she take it? What broke her self-esteem? And did that man
eventually kill her?
I don’t know any of those answers.
I’m sharing the story with you because it’s always stayed in
my head.
As I got older, I learned that nobody is 100% “grown up.” We all carry some childlike (and childish) stuff inside ourselves. I can look back at that moment with the kind of adult thoughts we all have:
“It’s not your problem”
“There’s nothing you can do”
“That was really dangerous”
“Those people are both crazy”
And so on.
But, when it really comes down to it, I’m more proud of the
10 year-old boy who knocked on that door than I am of the young man who ran out
of the mall.
And here’s why…
Nothing outside of our own little world is our business. A lesson we learn so well as grownups. We become experts at keeping a safe distance. At disconnecting to protect ourselves. Sure, we can freely defend our space in traffic and eagerly point at celebrities’ flaws from afar. But what about putting ourselves out there in a vulnerable way? What do we do when we might actually get hurt?
We mind our own business.
Sure, I was just a little kid. And of course I couldn’t have actually done anything to help. But I hadn’t learned how to close myself off yet. I hadn’t learned how keep my armor carefully fastened at all times. For just a moment, I didn’t mind my own business.
Writing every day as MileNerd was a huge part of my life for years. Recently, a friend asked me what it’s like to not do it anymore…
Still kind of strange, to be honest.
There were so many things that were a regular part of my world for a long time…
The thick stack of emails waiting every morning…
The feeling of pride from being the go-to guy people trusted in this hobby…
The fun back-and-forth interactions with “strangers” throughout
each day…
And just the warm feeling that came from our unique connection. I loved doing it. You guys loved that I did it. It all felt really…nice.
So, it’s still a bit of an adjustment.
I guess the next logical question is…are there any positives
from stopping?
Well, I do interact with a “normal” number of people each day now. So there’s more time for other passions, like one of my all-time favorites…
Observing the strange creatures known as “human beings.”
In fact, I’ve spent the last few weeks as a fly on the wall of Twitter. As a non-fan of social media, I wanted to get a closer look at the people of 2019. Clearly, we think and communicate differently than ever before. So I decided to invent a state-of-the-art machine. I call it…
THE 2019 TRANSLATOR
This remarkable machine has the ability to convert the strange noises people make today…into actual words. So, without further ado, here are some results from The 2019 Translator…
Translation: It’s 2019 and I won’t be “shamed.” If you suggest I improve my health…you’ve crossed the line.
Translation: It’s 2019, so my brain is gradually being sucked into my phone. Thankfully, yours is too. Give it another year and you’ll probably consider voting for me in the 2020 election.
Translation: In 2009, you would have considered this unusual. Now it’s just Tuesday. (Don’t worry…it’s 2019. You’ll forget this and everything else you read today by the time you fall asleep)
Translation: In 2019, I can’t even tell the difference between a movie and real life anymore. Also, I don’t trust men.
Translation: It’s 2019, so I can’t actually hear anything outside of my own experience. Also, I don’t trust women.
Translation: I’m a millionaire in 2019.
Translation: I’m 2019’s version of royalty.
Translation: My 2019 brain sees everything as racist.
Translation: My 2019 brain sees nothing as racist.
Translation: In 2019, you get to hear my opinions. (Every day. On everything)
Obviously, there are plenty of smart, interesting, and fun people on Twitter as well. In addition to the mind-numbing stupidity. Really, there’s a whole bunch of everything in 2019. That was my biggest observation. The amount of information we take in has completely changed the way we think. Your brain jumps around like a rabbit on a trampoline. Mine does too.
The other observation was seeing people use social media to strengthen opinions they already have. No minds were being changed about anything. I literally didn’t see a single person budge on anything they felt strongly about. Not just politics. That was a big one, obviously. But I didn’t even see anyone budge when it came to debates about the “best athlete” or “greatest tv show.” Do you think any of the shady bloggers give in when people try to call them out? Not even an inch.
So, I guess social media behavior isn’t that different than real world behavior. But I’m still glad I observed all of that noise. For one big reason…
After watching people interact in such petty ways, I realized we should REALLY appreciate when special individuals cross our path. I mean, if you know someone who truly has the ability to have their mind changed…that’s such a rare person in 2019. Don’t take them for granted.
