Mile Nerd

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From The Observation Deck

You are a voyeur.

Let’s just look at the data:

• You have, at some point, peeked into a stranger’s hotel room when walking by their open door.  
• It grabs your attention every time someone has an intense outburst in public.
• You enjoy movies and TV shows. For the exact same reason as the rest of us – because it’s fun to be a fly on the wall. Clearly, you like watching humans and their stories. You even spend your free time doing it.

Translation:
You are a voyeur in life.

Me? I’ve been a captivated viewer of the humanity song and dance for as long as I can remember.

Hell yeah, I’m absolutely a big-time voyeur too.

As a kid, I even took things to another level with what I called “science experiments.” For example, one day I unwrapped a Kit Kat and stuck it in a prominent location. Right on the edge of the kitchen counter. Guess what happened whenever someone walked by? They stopped, broke off a piece of chocolate, and popped it in their mouths. Even family members who claim to not have a sweet tooth. Nobody made it past that Kit Kat.

Clearly, it didn’t take much to entertain me. I did that kind of stuff all the time and thoroughly enjoyed it.

The “science experiments” eventually just turned into a passion for people-watching. As I grew older, I’d grab a drink at a café or bar and start studying the room. Have you ever observed the body language between 2 people on a date? It’s incredible. Sometimes you can actually see the moment a woman decides in her head, “Oh yeah, I’m going to sleep with him.” It’s 100% nonverbal but clear as day. Much like the moment when someone realizes without a shadow of a doubt, “There is absolutely no chance of a second date.”

(Editor’s Note: I probably should have spent more time going on my own dates – but that’s a story for another month)

During one of my people-watching expeditions, I saw a young boy run right into a star athlete who was clearly his all-time hero. Literally rammed right into him in the middle of a restaurant. Boom! The boy’s whole world swelled up into a hurricane of happiness when he realized who he’d crashed into. Just one high-five and a laugh from this gentle giant had such a profound impact on the kid. I wondered if it was the happiest 10 seconds he had ever experienced. Would he look back at that memory for the rest of his life and smile and the thought of it?

On the flip side, I’ve also seen the precise moment a little girl’s heart broke into two. I couldn’t hear a word of what was being said, but it was obviously something huge. Have you ever observed the exact millisecond someone stops being a kid? If so, you probably understand what I’m describing. When a childhood abruptly ends right in front of you, that image gets stored in your brain forever.

Month after month and year after year…I just kept watching the humans.

Even with normal day-to-day stuff, I realized how much we can see about a person if we slow down enough to pay attention. When we really look at them. From people pleasers to confrontational types…from the silently tortured to the habitual spreaders of joy…we are all such interesting characters. Even when we try to hide ourselves, we can’t help but reveal so much about who we are.

As the years passed, I started getting obsessed with how aggressively we get in our own way. What the hell is our deal? I saw it over and over. When push comes to shove, we humans (with very few exceptions) would rather hold on to a shitty identity we’ve grown accustomed to than face how wrong we’ve had it all along.

All of the above probably gives you an understanding of what I mean when I say I’m a big-ass voyeur. I’ve done a lot of watching. To an unusual degree. I just find humans to be endlessly fascinating. But, along the way, every so often…I encounter a “wow” person. Someone who stops me in my tracks. Not because of wealth, power, fame, or anything like that. A person in those categories is often stuck in the same mental boxes as their less fortunate peers. They just have more stuff. No, when I say “wow” people, I’m referring to those who don’t keep banging their heads against the same walls as the masses. They seem to have figured out a better way to live. I’ve spent a long time observing the hell out of them to try and figure out what these people have in common. And hopefully I can articulate it in a somewhat coherent way.  

(Disclaimer: In no way am I claiming to be the master of any of this. I’m not even close. The point is just that I’m a passionate observer who notices stuff. Nothing more)

So, without any further delay, here are the main 3 traits I’ve observed that “wow” people share…

1. An Ease About Being Wrong.

There’s a certain tension the vast majority of humans have when it comes to being wrong. Sometimes slight. Other times, way more noticeable.

Today, I was picking up lunch and started watching a random lady in the parking lot. She wanted to walk behind a van, but the Camry next to it was backing up. Camry guy wasn’t much of a driver. He was struggling back and forth. The lady could have easily just walked to her right and gone in front of the van. There was even a sidewalk right there. It was maybe 4 steps away. But she stood impatiently waiting for the Camry to back up out of that space. It occurred to me that…even in these tiny ways…we can have such a hard time changing from our original thinking.

“Wow” people have a very different relationship with being wrong. An ease about it. And this branches out into so many significant benefits. It allows them to be much more willing to fail. In big ways and small. Their life motto almost seems to be, “Dare to suck.” Because of that, they are so much more eager to try new things. I’ve watched it closely for years. Wondering why their lives seem more full and vibrant than most. And it all seems to grow out of an ease with being wrong.

The reality is it’s way harder for most of us when it comes to the big stuff. I know many of you are probably thinking, “Oh, I can be wrong, no problem.” But now look honestly and deeply at the biggest things in your life. Who you are, what you believe in most strongly, and what you stand for. Are you open to the possibility that you might have some of it wrong?

Hey, maybe you’re more comfortable with it than most. But I’d be confident betting every cent that many of the people reading these words (myself included) are on a path to reach the end of our lives and realize we had something big very wrong. You see it happening with old folks all the time when they finally “figure it out” at the end. Others won’t even get that far. They’ll never be able to even consider being wrong in any significant way. Obviously, I don’t know most of you. I can’t say any of this for sure. But I’ve observed this relationship with being wrong very closely. And with so many people. It really does blow my mind to think about how much better so many lives could be…if we just allowed room for ourselves to be wrong about the big stuff.

Possible Solution:
Again, I don’t have any answers here. I’m just an observer. But isn’t our relationship with being wrong something we can practice? Wouldn’t we just get more comfortable being wrong by saying it more, thinking it more, considering it more, etc? This certainly seems like an important muscle to build. And, clearly, the “wow” people have it way more developed than the masses.

2. Emotionally Articulate.

• Some humans are John Wayne types. They repress their pain and shove it all below.
• Other humans feel the need to appear happy at all times. As if they’re putting on a show.
• And some humans look at emotions as an annoyance. Almost aspiring to be a robot.

But “wow” people have a different way of handling their feelings…

They accept their humanity. Not just trying to feel the same way each day. They can articulate their pain, anger, and joy. Does that make them perfect? Hell no. But it does make them more comfortable in their own skin. A “wow” person wouldn’t poo-poo therapy or pretend to be ok when they’re not. And, because they don’t need to seem strong all the time, they are also able to ask for help when needed. Instead of building a fortress out of repressed crap and getting trapped inside forever…they actually deal with messiness head-on.

Possible Solution:
Again, I’m only an observer. But I’ve actually seen how effective this one can be. For a week, carry a notebook with you constantly. Again, just for a week. All you need to do in this notebook is write down every time you feel a new emotion. Simple, right? Ok, but now think of how often someone impacts you emotionally in a day. The nice person at the store who makes you smile, the dickhead in traffic who makes you upset, the scene on TV that reminds you of something sad. And so on.

The notebook thing is a very simple idea. We tend to think of ourselves as logical people. But humans are such emotional beings. By actually recording all the changes you go through in a week…the notebook exercise tends to be a revelation. And who knows what might happen from there? I’m certainly no expert. But, if you do commit to the week, I don’t think there’s any way to avoid being surprised by how many feelings you go through in that time. Most of you will probably ignore the idea. That’s understandable. But at least ask yourself one question – is there a good reason to not want to be more emotionally articulate?

3. Love Of Life.

Every “wow” person I’ve ever seen has a deep love of life. Unfortunately, as we know, there’s a wide range of traumas people go through – some to extreme degrees. It can be an uphill battle just to know it’s ok to love your life. Or to know that’s even possible. I certainly can’t tell you how they got there…but a “wow” person wants to fill their cup and let it overflow onto others. We all want to be seen as kind and caring, of course. But I have yet to meet a truly kind human who isn’t also kind to the person in the mirror.

Possible Solution:
Obviously, this is by far the hardest one. I’m a universe away from being a doctor. Clearly, we are all dealt very different hands. I have no possible solution to this one. All I know is that the inspirational “wow” people seem to live with a deep sense of gratitude.

That’s all I’ve got, guys. Those are the 3 traits I’ve found most commonly shared between the kinds of people who stop me in my tracks. This is certainly not earth-shattering news. I can’t imagine the emotionally retarded guy who struggles to be wrong and hates his life is out there wow-ing a bunch of people.

(As I was typing this, I started remembering one of the many times my perception of a situation was wrong. I’ll leave you with that final story)

Bonus Story

Many years ago, I used to teach an adult computer skills class at night. I constantly walked around to look at the work on people’s screens. Most of the night, I was flying from student to student. It was a tight squeeze and occasionally I’d brush against someone’s chair. No big deal. But, one day, my boss called me into her office as soon as I walked in the door. One of the ladies from class had come to her in tears. Apparently, this student was furious with me. Huh? I hadn’t spoken 15 words to her since the first day of class. She always just sat there quietly doing her work. But my boss explained how this lady was talking about suing the school. How it was VERY serious and needed to be addressed…

Wait, what?

My jaw hit the floor as I listened for the next few minutes. Apparently, the lady claimed that I rammed into her chair over and over. And that I did so intentionally every time I passed her. That she was just trying to learn a new skill and I wanted to pick a fight with her. She worked as a bus driver and claimed the stress of this mistreatment made it very hard for her to do her job.

What. The. Fuck. Was. This?

I was furious. Much like a cartoon animal with steam coming out of his head. I mean, my students loved me. I tried my best to teach these people every night…and now I’m being accused of complete and utter bullshit? Why the hell would someone just make up lies? I had a room full of witnesses. How could a person do this?

We sat down for a conference. Me, the student, and my boss. I was so angry that I literally couldn’t see straight. All of my energy was focused on how badly I was being wronged. The more angry I became, the more the student sunk into her chair. Please. Don’t act like the victim here. You’re the one making up lies about me!

This went on for the next few minutes. And then…

The student broke down crying. She couldn’t speak above a whisper. But she finally started explaining that she worked the overnight bus shift at the airport for many years. And, late one night, when transporting a single passenger to a fairly deserted parking lot…she was raped. The words were barely audible. That incident caused a domino effect in her life, countless problems, and a deep loss of trust in people. She finally said, “I understand that you’re probably not bumping my chair very hard. But you have to realize…for me, it feels like an attack each and every time.”

This is the person I was yelling at?

I immediately felt 3 inches tall. I apologized and told her that I had no idea of the impact a bump like that would cause her. We worked together to try to figure out a way to help her feel more comfortable in the classroom. And around me. You better believe that I never bumped into her chair again.

Looking back, I was so offended by “her lie” that I didn’t even bother to ask why she was telling it.

Sometimes we can be wrong even when we’re right.

Quick admin note:
Some of you who have subscribed via email for years weren’t able to locate the new sign-up link. It should be in the right sidebar (bottom of screen on mobile) but is also right here. Again, the previous Subscribe By Email service has ended functionality or will be ending it very soon.

On to the post…

____________________________________

I’m stuck behind a left lane bandit

Oh yeah, you know the one…

He’s crawling down the freeway interfering with my fun.

I can’t believe his driving, what’s the deal with this lame guy?

So I look into his window and can see he’s from Shanghai.

I swerve back to the right lane and begin to ride your tail.

While continuing to check my phone and read routine email.

I fire tweets off quickly as my foot slams on the gas.

Inching closer to your bumper now – I refuse to make the pass!

But my exit is approaching, so I roll right into work.

Talking loudly on my speakerphone (to ignore colleagues like Dirk).

I duck into my office and quickly hide behind my desk.

The people all around me here? Quite literally grotesque.

Loud drama queens and girly men that’s what this place is now.

A team of brainless Oprah fans who try to act highbrow.

I’m exhausted by their worries all about their lot in life.

Except Latina file clerk girl – could she be my next ex-wife?

This place has grown so nutty, I just don’t know what to do.

Coworkers who surround me, all they do is misconstrue.

Their problematic thinking – far too often led astray.

So easy to convince them boogeyman is on his way.

At least we’re in this building now (not on my couch with Zoom).

Long-ass meetings full of panic that we face impending doom.

My colleagues feel so foreign, I no longer can relate.

What’s wrong with modern interns now – I can’t even get one date?

All I said was shove that Pfizer shot…well, where the sun don’t shine.

And then just yelled, “FUCK VACCINE TALK” (ok, that didn’t make Juanita mine).

No injection in my body when unsure what it’s about.

Unless they can invent one that will make 6-packs pop out.

I won’t care what’s in a needle if it gives me sexy abs.

Or one that might relive me from this stubborn case of crabs.

The sheeple all around me here think I’m a problem child.

Well, they’re the microchipped ones – with blood data now profiled.

I bet they’ll try to bribe me, thinking I will get their shot.

10 steps ahead is where I live, they must have all forgot.

Yup, Dirk just ordered Pizza Hut – all part of his game plan.

You need more than awesome food to pull one over on me, man.  

Can you spot the simple tricks like theirs? As obvious can be.

My views will never change. They’re built on logic only I can see.

In fact, I truly think it’s healthy washing slices down with Coke.

And casually ignore signs telling me where I can’t smoke.

While you all get so brainwashed, I am free as I can be.

My thoughts are mine alone. And need only make sense to me.

Things that enter this round body, yeah I always analyze.

Could tell you each ingredient in Little Debbie pies.

That might be a stretch to say (I never really look).

I tend to eat most everything from any kind of cook.

I’m a grown-ass man with freedom, that’s what life is all about.

These people won’t impact me – oh hell no, I won’t sell out.

Nice, it’s time to close up shop here so I’ll chill out back at home.

With construction now completed on my brand new biodome.

I’ll have distance from the noise there, from vaccines I’ll never take.

Far away from all the people who created this headache.

No, you’ll never understand me, but I’m still a real-life guy.

And here’s what the truth is…

I’m American as apple pie.

Hey guys, I appreciate the overwhelming support. Just wanted to get an idea of whether the post-retirement posts are worth continuing and the answer was made very clear.

I’ll be honest…a few of the responses were incredibly touching. I had some people talking about how they read the posts aloud to their wives at night, others forward stuff to their kids, and on and on. One friendly dude even offered to pay me to continue. Again, such nice emails. I was just asking whether it matters to you. Thank you so much for answering.

Believe me, I’m well aware that I’m not curing cancer here. I’ll happily continue once a month as long as there’s room in my life to do that. Let’s move on. Just a few administrative notes before the July post…

• If you follow MileNerd by email, that service stops working this month. I put up a new link (from a new email service) on the right sidebar of MileNerd.com. You should be able to subscribe to it starting today. I’m not a techie at all…if there are issues with this new provider, I’ll try to have that fixed next month. But, again, no more MileNerd emails unless you resubscribe through the new link.
• A couple of you requested a miles and points post. I might stick one in at some point. But I’m very retired from blogging about that hobby. These posts are just to stay connected to you old friends each month.
• On that note, I’m probably done updating the credit card list at this point. The edits have been very sporadic for 2 years. Not sure there’s any point in it. Again…no longer a miles and points blogger.
• A few of you mentioned how I didn’t reply 2 years ago about membership in a group. I apologize. Was slammed with emails and eventually stopped answering them. Anyway, the original idea changed. If you are still interested in a very small work-focused team (essentially a part-time job hunting for deals) let me know and we can talk.
• Finally, the initial plan with my monthly post-retirement entries was to mix it up. Meaning, sometimes just posting a meaningful picture and caption from a trip…and the next month maybe just writing a review of my favorite pizza slice. Over the last 2 years, these all turned into longer posts. Hey, I dig them too. But, going forward, it’s possible I might mix things up more. The idea is to post something each month. What it will be may vary.

That said, I was motivated this month. Your avalanche of emails touched me. So I’m going to share a story I once briefly mentioned. You get a better, fuller version today. It’s a winding tale from my past. Hope you enjoy…

—————————–

School Daze

Can you still remember your first day of high school?

That feeling in the pit of your belly?

The bell rang. I entered the 10^th grade ring (I mean, room) very cautiously. That’s the way to do it when you’re part boy, part string bean. Sure, my dream of being a ladies man was unrealistic. But there was plenty else I could do. Like claim my rightful throne as the king of awkwardness. Looking around at all the grown-up faces, it seemed to be the right time to start dating. Unfortunately, big obstacles were in my path. Including:

1. A flip side to my fancy new contact lenses – no more thick glasses to hide the schnoz.
2. This unimpressive physique. Best described as “friendly neighborhood crackhead.”
3. My weirdness factor. Basically, complete and total ignorance on how to be cool. There were Luke Perry sexy whisper guys everywhere…and then there was me. Armed with a loud voice and this peach fuzz moustache, I appeared destined to be cast as “spazzy guy in the back row.”

So that’s where I sat. And, as the cranky teacher started to take roll, I waited nervously. All I had to do was say “here” but there was a 99% chance my voice would crack while doing it. What was my deal? I looked down at the Guess jeans my mom purchased for the first day of class and immediately shook my head. Already got clowned today for forgetting to cut off the price tag before walking into the building. Dammit.  

Cranky teacher neared the end of the list. It was almost voice-cracking time. And then…out of nowhere…

What in the world was this?

Someone named Kelley responded to her name being called. I’d seen all the other pretty girls in town but this was…different. She tossed her hair aside and giggled at nothing in particular. Honestly, it felt like fairy dust was raining down on the room. Did this girl jump straight out of a high school movie montage? What THE HELL was happening here?

My jaw was still on the floor as a pimple-faced kid tapped my shoulder.

Apparently, cranky teacher was calling my name…

Ok, NOT the time for nervousness. Man up, dummy. Gotta make a good first impression on Kelley. As soon as cranky teacher called my name again, I interrupted with…

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Guess it’s because most people call me Studman.”

Let me tell you…

As 10^th grade goes, that’s pretty much the highest level of comedy one can reach. The room exploded with laughter and I even got a few high-fives. For the next 3 years, there were kids who would permanently refer to me as Studman. I even signed it that way on my Blockbuster Video card.

When the bell rang, I found myself standing next to the giggling, hair-tossing goddess herself. The first day of school in a new town and she didn’t have a single ounce of nervousness. How could this be? I felt a panic attack starting up simply because she was looking at me. Then she smiled (so warmly it could have melted ice) and said…

“You’re funny.”

High school was off to an amazing start.

Juniors

By 11^th grade, Kelley and I were close buddies.

She (of course) was dating the captain of the football team.

I, on the other hand, enjoyed jam-packed weekends full of video games and Pop Tarts. 

As the lord of awkwardness, I’d found my rightful place in the pecking order – as a funny yet sensitive pod person. I drove her to school each morning. We talked about everything (well, almost). I could never express what was in my heart. But, obviously, I was crazy about this person who sat mere inches away. I imagine she just thought of those 15-minute drives as transportation…but they were always the highlight of my day.

Seniors

By 12^th grade, I was essentially her gay best friend.

Thrilling? Of course.
Daily torture? That too.

It was normal to pick up the phone and hear Kelley mid-laugh anticipating what I might say. She was fun, quirky, and extremely kind. The girl didn’t have a mean bone in her body. More than anyone at school, she really cared about what was happening with me. It mattered to her. And, of course, I listened intently during our nightly calls as she shared everything from her life.

Being the shoulder-to-cry-on guy felt like an honor in one sense…but I could be so much more. With me, there wouldn’t be any reason to cry at all. How on earth did anyone express such things? I might as well attempt something easier…like climbing Mount Everest.

I remember one of the last days we drove to school together. She wore a new white dress. It was the first moment a girl actually took my breath away. I couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. She never wore clothes like that but we had a bunch of pre-graduation ceremonies to attend. My voice got weirdly loud and I blurted out, “Hey maybe we could share a dance together at prom before the end of the night…y’know if we have time or whatever.” As always, she was fully and enthusiastically up for anything I ever suggested.

(I just couldn’t express what I really wanted to)

Early College

After graduation, Kelley headed north to Indiana. A few states away. The opposite sex was (finally) more of a presence in my life, but she remained at the forefront of my thoughts. I received her postcards and letters regularly. Obviously, dropping everything for the scattered weekends she drove down to visit.

Maybe it was my growing confidence…or possibly the hypnotic mix of music and beer…but our time together seemed to have a different magic now. No longer just a spazzy pod person daydreaming about the impossible. These moments seemed special for both of us. Was that in my imagination? Had I ventured into arrogance? Because I could have sworn she was waiting for me to say or do something. But, come on. Please. Who am I supposed to be…Jean-Claude Van Damme?

We just soaked up all we could from those special weekends and returned to our normal college lives.  

Late College

When Michael Jordan un-retired from baseball, I mapped out a road trip to Chicago with some friends. Had to see that guy play in person. Driving to the Windy City came with a special bonus. Passing through Indiana. I asked Kelley if she was interested in joining our adventure. She screamed in delight before I could finish the sentence.

We arrived in Chicago so poor that we couldn’t actually afford tickets. At least not the normal way. I walked up to a scary-looking scalper on the street and handed him a few bucks. Please, sir. Anything that gets us inside. With his tattooed hand, he shoved an envelope into my chest and waved me away.

Thank you, serial killer guy! YES!  

We had our seats. Well, kind of. They were technically passes to line up in the “standing room” zone behind the last row. But nobody in the United Center had more fun that night. We sat there (actually, stood there) watching the greatest player in history do his thing. Wow. What kind of brass balls are on this dude to lay it all out there each and every night?

It then occurred to me that I might be the exact opposite of MJ. Someone who never puts himself out there. As we left the arena…eating, drinking, and laughing our way through Chicago…I grew frustrated with myself. What the hell was my problem? Why couldn’t I just open up my heart? Anyway, it was getting late. We couldn’t afford luxury so we all crashed in the same small hotel room. Kelley and I had to share one of the beds. We talked deep into the night. At one point, she looked softly into my eyes and then…I immediately rolled over.

As I drifted away, an important question lingered in my mind…

Am I the Michael Jordan of cowardice?

Post-College

We still spoke almost every day, but Kelley had been dating someone. It was serious. Just never expected to get a call that she’d be marrying him.

(Well done, king of awkwardness. You officially blew it)

Turns out the marriage was a bust from the start. A product of youth more than anything. Now a tough situation. As the months went by, Kelley seemed increasingly fragile. In spite of it, she was full of warmth on our phone calls. I really started to understand how important our friendship was. And not just to me. One particular day, it came pouring out of her. She said:

“I know you have lots of friends but honestly you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had. You’ve been there for me through everything. You know every single thing about me, good and bad. And what amazes me the most is you don’t judge me. You know all the bad things I’ve done and still, amazingly, associate with me. Honestly, how do you put up with me?”

As a modern-day Shakespeare, I replied with:
“Well I do a lot of drugs, so…”

The reality is, I had no clue what the hell she was talking about. She never did anything “bad.” That girl was so kind to everyone. For the first time, her sunny personality was dimming. She was clearly in pain. After another few months, she explained that her marriage was ending. The toll was significant. I tried to be a good friend. With both of us living alone now, there were long daily phone calls. We talked about a million different subjects. Including regret. Both wondering what life might have been like if she hadn’t headed north for school. Clearly, I wanted to say something more. But Halley’s Comet would come around faster than my words. So, one day, she finally asked it herself:

“What do you think it would be like if we kissed? I’m just wondering…”

I can’t remember how I answered that question. It’s possible my head fell off my body and rolled into a freezer to hide. But I don’t know for sure…the rest of that conversation was a blur.

Over the next few months, Kelley grew increasingly sad. It was so far from her natural state. I tried to make her laugh. I tried to build her up. But she was just as concerned with my happiness as I was with hers. We were both a bit lost in the world. Those phone calls felt like a warm cup of soup in the middle of a storm. Her marriage was over now. Nothing left but paperwork. She desperately needed a weekend away. Something non-depressing to help her remember how to feel like herself. We discussed it for weeks and finally made plans to meet halfway.

It’s easy to forget how young we were. But I truly felt 10 years old driving into that random Kentucky town. We met at a local mini golf course. She’d lost weight. And (shockingly) seemed just as awkward as me. I didn’t even know that was possible. Never seen it from her in all these years. Oh, man. Maybe we should just grab a beer and talk? I asked mini golf guy for directions to the nearest local pub…but apparently this was a “dry county.” Wait. Let me get this straight…I live an entire life without knowing dry counties even exist…and NOW I’m in one??

Get it together, man. Just focus on Kelley. Your best friend needs you to be normal right now. But, really, all I had to do was look at her. I saw pain in her eyes where there used to be joy. So I did what was most familiar. I tried to make her laugh. Eventually, a few smiles came out…then some giggles…and the day actually turned fun again. We fell into our old rhythm. Talked for hours. By the time we headed back to the hotel, I’d almost forgotten about…oh, shit. Panic attack time. I stared out the window as she went into the bathroom to freshen up.

(Warning: What I’m about to say is likely the most pathetic thing your ears will ever hear)

It was a nuclear bomb of fear. My brain said, “We can’t do this!” But, actually, I don’t even know if THIS was going to happen. My thoughts went into hyperdrive – “Even though the marriage is over, there’s still paperwork to sign” and blah blah blah. The reality is that I freaked the fuck out. I’d been crazy about her since the 10^th grade. And, within seconds, I convinced myself that I shouldn’t be there. So, while she was in the bathroom…

I grabbed my bag, went downstairs, got in my car, and left the state.

(Yes, you read that correctly)

We had car phones in those days. Mine rang as I got on the highway. Kelley asked where I was…because, well…it probably didn’t occur to her that I drove out of Kentucky while she was in the bathroom. Look, I could justify it in any number of strange ways. But the reality is that…once again…I took the easy way out. Not sure what I rambled about on that phone call. But I do know one thing – at no point did I just say, “I’m scared.”

Clearly, she was hurt. And this time it was because of me. I can’t imagine many people would forgive that kind of thing, but…man…she was gentle and understanding even in that moment. She actually thanked me for coming to see her.

As I drove down the winding highway, something finally made sense to me. I’m the most pathetic person alive. And the utter exhaustion of that realization (on top of the entire day) hit me like a ton of bricks. Because…an hour into my drive, I fell asleep at the wheel.

(Whether you believe this next part or not, I give you my word it’s the truth)

Right as I fell asleep…literally right then…I ran out of gas. And, yes, I know how that sounds. But it happened. For whatever reason, it jerked the car.  Instead of driving off the side of that mountain highway…I snapped awake just as I drifted out of my lane.

Somehow, I was able to coast down the hill to the nearest exit…right into a gas station.

I have no explanation. No guide to help me make sense of it. But that’s what happened. My car should have driven off the side of that empty highway with me asleep at the wheel. There’s no logical reason it didn’t.

And also beyond all logic…Kelley still cared about me after that day.

Final Chapter

The years kept marching on as we entered our late 20s. A day rarely passed without hearing her voice. We laughed about everything – yes, including my Kentucky mad dash. We were as close as ever. Sharing the ups and downs from work, dating, and life. We were getting older now. Out of the blue one day, she said:

“I just want you to know how thankful I am to have you in my life. I’m so grateful for everything…and I don’t think I’ve told you that enough. You are always there to listen. I was thinking today about how many times I’ve called you crying over God knows what. I’m so sensitive I’ll cry over a hangnail. But no matter how trite my dilemma was, you always listened so intently and always made me feel better.

And it amazes me…even when I think I’m as happy as I can get…when I speak to you on the phone, I realize I’m twice as happy as I was before. As many changes as I’ve gone through in the past 5 years, you were my only constant. And I’m so happy to know you. Anyway, I just wanted to say that…”

Astonishingly, I started to express myself too. In a somewhat clunky/oafish way, of course. But I did say the words. And we met up again. A decade after claiming to be the Studman…I finally kissed her.

There was a hell of a buildup to that moment. And it was so meaningful for both of us. But if you think this is a story about two people ending up together, then you aren’t seeing the full picture yet. Let me explain…

We both wanted to express our affection for each other by then. Such a long time coming. But we weren’t kids anymore. The reality is…not every deep friendship is meant to turn romantic. We realized it quickly. And the bond stayed strong.

Another decade (and then some) has passed. I look back on all the people who helped me grow. And nobody from those years mattered more than Kelley.  We long ago moved on to relationships with incredible people. But I think we helped each other get there. Her presence in those days helped me immensely in all the ones that have followed.

I haven’t heard her voice in years now. One of the last times was a day I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should check in. So I did. She’d married a sweetheart of a guy. And they just found out they were pregnant. Hadn’t even told their families yet. Such a major moment in her life and…for some reason…I knew to reach out. Both of us were thrilled to share one more special phone call together.

We all remain forever connected to our pasts. Sometimes, when we think back on the people who really mattered…we cut out all the bad parts. Or we try to make it something it wasn’t. The reality is that I had a great friend in my formative years. Sure, our friendship was messy and I was often hilariously immature. But I had someone in my corner. A person who thought I was awesome…even at a time when nobody other than my mom agreed.

I spent many hours of my youth wondering what else we could be. But that was never the point. The specialness was what we actually were. Looking back, I can see it so clearly. I had a real best friend. Someone who taught me how to open my heart to others…as well as to myself. I’m forever grateful. We don’t always understand the role someone will play in our lives. But, then again, maybe we’re not supposed to at the time.

Monthly Measurement

It has now been 2.5 years since I retired MileNerd.

Crazy, right?

Obviously, I’ve written a post per month since then. A bunch of you guys didn’t want me to go away and, dammit, I dig you too. So this was my way of not disappearing completely. Writing a few post-retirement words on whatever subject leaps into my head each month.

That said…

I received an automated message about needing to switch the provider for all MileNerd email subscribers. And it got me thinking…

In the pre-retirement days, there was never any question about whether this blog was wanted. The 100+ emails from people each day made it pretty obvious. But those readers came for miles and points. And I’m curious if you guys are getting much out of this anymore. I’m not asking for extra pats on the back. I won’t ever need another person to tell me I was the best writer of the miles-and-points bloggers. Heard that enough over the years. Also, that’s basically like telling a sports car that he’s faster than a broken down Yugo. Thanks, but I know. What I’m unsure of is this…

Does it matter to you if I stop writing these monthly entries?

Honestly asking. I’m just trying to figure out if this is something I should continue doing. I never ask for feedback and obviously disabled the comment section from the start…but this one requires your input. Very simple. If you want me to continue these post-retirement entries, just drop a line. If it doesn’t matter either way, then don’t.

You can use my email address if you have it, the contact page on the blog, or the old MileNerdcontests AT gmail.com.

Look, I know it’s hard to get people to take any action (even for a one-sentence email). Certainly not my style to ask. But I need to get some feel for this answer. If the posts aren’t worth a 5-second email from enough people, then I can scale this back even more. I’ll have a better idea of the thought process next month. Thanks for any help you can provide.

(If you do subscribe by email, just know those alerts could be disabled by July so you may need to come to the website manually)

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Love Of The Game

Do you remember what you were like as a young kid?

I think I know…

Hyperfocused on your career?

Gulping down coffee at recess just to deal with the daily weight of society?

Obsessively checking your investment portfolio between sit-ups in gym class?  

Uh, probably not.

Look, I don’t know a thing about your childhood. Doubt it was all butterflies and rainbows (since that isn’t real life). But I’m guessing we had one important trait in common. Early on, I think we all had the capacity to play. Remember that? Once upon a time, such playfulness lived within us. Literally just hand us a bucket and some sand back then and watch what happens.

Now, let’s fast forward to today…

Without bias, look at the grownups you know. Your friends…family…coworkers…and, of course, you. It’s safe to say that adulthood is more…weighed down…right? Not exactly the same lightness of youth? Of course. Obviously, there are responsibilities. Clearly, the world is a mess. And, undoubtedly, people have hurt us along the way. But I’m just asking a simple question…

Do you still live your days with a sense of play?

(Note: I’m referring to the sober version of you. Pouring booze in a glass to loosen up is a whole different thing)

Don’t worry, my intention isn’t to judge. I’m honestly asking…

Assuming, of course, that we’re lucky enough to have no immediate health or financial crisis…where exactly did our old playfulness go? Did it just vanish into thin air?

Eagerness to play was the defining trait of how we walked through the world once upon a time.

So…what happened?  

Recently, I took my first post-Covid trip. Jumped on a plane to an amazing $1000/night resort in Hawaii (booked with points, of course). I sat in my luxurious lounge chair smack dab in the middle of paradise. Watching person after person stroll by. And something became very clear…

Kids, for the most part, have a much bigger capacity for joy. It’s hard to deny and impossible to ignore. In fairness, the adults didn’t seem miserable. Their resting faces often grew less frowny, sometimes even neutral, and (gasp) occasionally broke out in smiles. But their appetite for play…even in the middle of a dream playground…was clearly more limited. Kind of a muffled, “grown up” version.

Right about now, some guy named JimBob from Tuscaloosa is reading these words and thinking:
“Dude, I got older and had to start WORKING. That’s what happened to my playfulness.”

As is often the case with Jimbob, he has completely missed the point. While I didn’t know the people walking on that beach…I imagine some of them were not in the midst of a major life crisis. Clearly, most were on a fantastic vacation. And, yet, even in a perfect setting for it…far removed from the workplace…they just didn’t seem to have much of a sense of play left. Now, of course, there are always some exceptions…

Occasionally, a “grownup” walked by and grabbed my attention completely. No, not because of their choice of swimwear, JimBob. But because that person (whether male or female) had a different kind of energy. It was so glaringly obvious. They managed to hold onto something that most of their peers have lost.

And, right then, I realized it…

Having a sense of play isn’t a trait. It’s a skill. Young kids don’t need to develop it because they haven’t lost it yet. Whatever will diminish their playfulness…the stuff that will weigh them down as adults…hasn’t happened yet.

It’s different for us.

We have to WANT to keep our playfulness. It’s something we have to consciously choose.

Look, there’s no shortage of shit for us to be upset or stressed about. All legitimate stuff. But just look at the amount of money we spend each year to get away from it – from tv channels to streaming services…from seeing live music to downloading songs…from standup comedy to sporting events – we spend all that money to watch other adults play. In the hope that some of that feeling will rub off on us. Think of all the vacations you’ve taken to try to shake things up. Think back to all your best memories as an adult and remember what felt so good.

I know. There are a million things to be upset about today. And tomorrow. And for the next 10 years. But let’s talk crazy for a second…

What if we took a day to see if we still have it in us to be truly carefree and playful? Just one day to consciously try to play. All the stressful stuff will definitely be there tomorrow. Would it be so bad to check in and see if the little kid is still alive in you somewhere? Just a thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to test out today…