The story that particularly jumped out at me was this one:
- Jae Brown was driving after smoking weed and drinking when he was pulled over. He confessed everything to the cop, who saw that Brown was in college and whispered,“Don’t let your friends get you in trouble you can’t get yourself out of,” and let him go. “My purpose in life,” Brown writes, “is to mentor, provide that whisper in someone’s ear that changes their life.”
The right words at the right time can be life-changing.
I have a few stories about this.
to be continued...
I ran into one of my former students a while back. He said that I told him something that changed his life. He was an older student, having been through several careers already.
"Really? What was that?" I said. I had no idea.
"I was thinking of going into engineering, "he said," but I figured if I went into engineering now, I'd be 40 by the time I finished. You said, 'Dave, you're going to be 40 anyway.'"
Apparently that was what he needed to hear. I would note, too, that people really want to hear something that conforms with their needs and wishes.
"If you half-ass it, that half-ass will be all over town and whenever anyone asks who did that to her car, she'll give them your name."
Friend got in a fender-bender my sophomore year. Knew I worked on cars; she asked me if I could "bang out the dent" so that she could put her turn signal back on, make the headlight point forward, etc. I said I totally could; she dropped the car off on a Friday, expecting to pick it up on a Monday. By Saturday noon the fender was in the correct physical dimensions, but a long way from "looking good." I was ready to put a fork in it but my dad dropped that particular truth-bomb on me. Ended up spending the entire weekend getting the fender on a '78 Nova paint-ready. But you know what? I was the acknowledged king of bodywork. By the time junior year rolled around my classmates were bidding on me joining their auto shop team for the final and midterm.
It didn't really stick until my grandfather had these guys come by and offer him a hell of a deal on an asphalt driveway. The coupling between the motor and the hammer on their tamper had broken; they wanted to know if I could weld it back together (we had pretty much a full metal shop at my grandparents' house). I observed that it had already been done badly once and that any repair I exacted would not only not last long, it would be of questionable utility and also look like crap. They were cool with it - hook us up we'll give you twenty bucks.
My grandfather pointed out that were I to repair it, I'd be blamed when it broke and badmouthed by anyone who saw it. I didn't end up welding the coupling. They were mad, but they came back the next day and finished the job with a horribly-welded kludge the likes of which I never would have perpetrated on a piece of equipment. When I asked them who they got to fix it they said
"some idiot."
I never half-assed anything ever again. Not that I did much before but boy howdy did I have a sterling set of principles behind the decision.
The experience colored my life in other ways; they were interesting folx and I ended up hanging out with them a little. They suggested I come with them and join their merry traveling lifestyle - wouldn't let up, in fact. It was odd; they showed up with a truck full of asphalt one day, did the front of the driveway, then worked out a deal with my grandfather to do the rest of the driveway for $5000 and his old motor home. When grass started poking up through the asphalt a week later they were long gone, of course; apparently this is a thing.
I don't have many prejudices; I fuckin' hate Tinkers. "Hey, come join us! Hey fix our shit! Hey, fuck the guys who fix our shit! Hey, let's rip off your 80-year-old grandfather before we kidnap you!" Important note - there was no respect for me in there, no respect for my grandfather, and they totally would have stolen my grandfather's motorhome and $5k AND steal me from my family without a second thought. Suffice it to say I had a hard time with The Riches.
One of my finest moments was when I was washing dishes and my wife was sewing and we heard honking. My wife opened the door and two toothless dudes in a road truck pointed at our driveway and observed that it was pretty rough; they had some asphalt left over from a job "just up the street" and would we like a deal?
My wife said "I already have a Tinkers' driveway, why would I want another?"
She said they glared at her and left. I was so proud.
"Every time I see you walking home from school you're always looking at the ground." - my neighbor, some time during middle school. First I just made a point to keep my head up while walking, but then I started watching people and things and noticing what was happening around me, then I realized I was beginning to feel more confident, and eventually a whole series of changes seem to cascade from that moment.
Come to think of it, that was also around the time puberty happened. :/
"The opposite of love isn't hate. It's fear. You can't hate something or someone you didn't once hold passion for, someone you didn't let into your heart." Courtesy of the assistant headmaster at my high school in my senior year, while teaching a course in classical literature. I believe this was specifically in regards to either Oedipus Rex or Antigone. This was what broke me out of a depressive spell and a significant period of self-doubt, and ended up with me leaving high school behind on good terms with just about everyone in my class.
Barring that? "I love you and I'm proud of you". My stepfather, at about 2 AM on the day after my 19th birthday. Two months prior we had discovered he had terminal cancer. I said "I love you too". The following day he had a stroke. He never regained consciousness and died three days later, in our living room, on a gurney. That brief exchange was the last conversation we had.
I, uh...I'm gonna go take a break from the computer for a bit. Don't neglect the chance to tell the people you hold dear that you care. Nothing is guaranteed. Not "18 months". Not tomorrow. Don't be afraid. Love each other.
"You know Steve, you create your own luck in life." -guy at the bar I worked at when I said that sounds_sound was so lucky for being able to go to Ghana to study architecture.
In the summer of 2002, I was on my way in to sign my first contract as an event coordinator. It was my opportunity to be something more than a discarded kid. At the time, I was washing dishes and cleaning floors at a sketchy Ottawa bar. The year before that, I was kicked out of university after being robbed and allowing depression to get the best of me. My life didn't seem to have much potential from my perspective.
On my way in to sign the contract, I held the door open to some random guy. I was just being courteous. Till today, I'm still awestruck that he didn't thank me. Instead, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "whatever you want in life, you will get." Maybe that was his special way of thanking everyone. Maybe he is the messiah that everyone prays they might meet one day. Whatever his reason, I hope to use his kindness to pay it forward. I feel that is the point of what he told me.
Way back when, my mother and I had one hell of an existential conversation that boiled down into a philosophy that I've never really let go of. "It's okay to be be angry at people, it's even okay to hate them. It's never okay to stop loving them though."
Compare and contrast: When I was a small child (maybe 6, maybe 7) my mother told me "most mommies will tell you that they love you even when they're mad but I'm not most mommies and when I'm mad at you I do not and if you don't stay out of my way I will fucking kill you."