Bad Things, Good People, & Happy New Year

I used to assert that “Good things happen to good people.” I frequently told worried parents, “You have a good kid. (S)he may be struggling right now, but I think things will work out in the end.” In my more philosophic moments, however, I also wonder if I use that assertion to claim my own “goodness.” Does having avoided tragedy imply goodness? Of course not, but it does make it easier to hold to the theory. 

I still generally hold to that belief, but in this year’s batch of cards and letters came distressing news from a friend I like and respect, but with whom I am in contact really only around Christmas time. She’s had a terrible run the last 2-3 years, having had to deal with one loss after another, plus some health issues of her own. This year’s note (explaining why she had missed exchanging letter-cards last year) reminded me that bad things also happen to good people, people who don’t deserve to face the tragedy and loss that afflicted them.

Okay, probably no one who is mentally healthy thinks he or she deserves to face tragedy and loss, but some of those tragedies are created by poor life choices, choices made in spite of better advice and opportunities. Still, the unanticipated tribulations endured by others always motivates me to remember that time is limited and precious, to appreciate what we have now, and to take advantage of the blessings bestowed upon us, because, well, you never know.

One of the less appreciated “gifts” passed on from my mother is what I call my “premonition of dread.” I can always imagine tragedy around the next corner. It’s so ingrained that I probably drive my family nuts when I launch into worry mode prematurely. (Fortunately, I’m the only one with that gene, and Carolyn and Nicci have learned to put up with it.) Intellectually I know that I’m over-reacting and creating a stew that no one can enjoy. Emotionally, however, those feelings churn on, bubbling away until the fire is out.

So my resolution, such as it is, for this year is to just “be”: be myself, be relaxed, be appreciative, be happy, be ready, be good. May 2014 be great for you and yours.

Happy Holidays -- Our Holiday Letter, Volume XV

No Monopoly on Political Correctness

Political Correctness is in the Eye of the Audience.

Is there a politically correct position if you know, going in, you’re going to offend one side or the other? With so many people being so easily offended these days (or, at least, willing to pretend to be offended to score a political point, or even half-point), you’re going to be politically incorrect at least some of the time just by offering an opinion, unless you’re Bill Maher, of course, but he makes a (very good) living deliberately offending people ALL the time!

So if you’ll agree to the stipulation that we are ALL politically incorrect in someone’s view, let me move on to how even such an ambiguous term gets manipulated. My objection is to those who decry “political correctness” when their ox is being gored, but fail to recognize their own attempts to enforce orthodoxy.

Take, for example, the phony debate over wishing people Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. Those, like myself, who prefer the more non-denominational greeting are criticized for being politically correct, even if that offering is a conscious choice and not an intent to avoid offending. But if I were to avoid “Happy Holidays” with certain people because I know it would be deemed offensive, isn’t that being politically correct?

The A&E network is being lambasted, at least by some, for political correctness because it suspended one of the Duck Dynasty guys who offered his opinion about homosexuality. Certainly for most of media-land that intolerance is politically incorrect. On the other hand, wouldn’t the Biblical literalist crowd enforce conformity on any of their band who offered the contrary opinion, that sexual orientation is far less of a choice than, say, your religion? How would that position play in his church?

The Dixie Chicks offended conservatives some years back with a throw-away line at a concert in London, but were subjected to a politically correct banishment by C/W radio that apparently continues to this day. Was Natalie Maines’s attempt at humor politically incorrect? Of course. But didn’t the country western community impose its own political correctness by refusing to play their music because they didn’t want to offend any listeners?

If you look at the bottom line (and I’ll claim the tag of economic historian as long as you don’t require any credentials), most political correctness disputes come back to money. National chain stores use “Happy Holidays” not to attack Christianity or Christmas, but to try to sell more merchandise to even more people. No one is considering the possibility that A&E’s actions are based on a belief as sincerely held as Phil Robertson’s; the network is being attacked because it is assumed they’re being politically correct in trying not to offend any group. The Chicks vanishing act from radio stemmed from stations’ fear of losing advertising money by playing their songs.

If, like Phil Robertson or Natalie Maines, you are in the public eye, you need to be aware that when you use a public forum, there are potential (economic) consequences. (I am more sympathetic to Ms. Maines because she was just trying to be funny more than make a political statement, but admit my politics might also play a part in reaching that conclusion.) If you’re threatening or participating in a boycott, that is your absolute right; but whichever wing of the political spectrum you inhabit, that participation is an attempt to enforce some kind of political correctness. In the same way that both sides can wave the flag, both sides are guilty of sneering the phrase “politically correct” for their own agendas.

Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/17/13, Key West

Our final stop, Key West, was a treat. We will probably return for a stay on our own when we have time to explore it at our leisure.

We toured Harry Truman’s Little White House, which, combined with our visits to the Truman Library in Independence, keeps his presidential stock in the blue chip category. (If you’ve never visited a presidential library, you’re missing a bet. We plan to hit more in the coming years.)

We then kind of strolled the touristy area, visited (and spent money at) Crazy Shirts, a Hawaiian based store that we had known previously only through the catalogs that show up at our house. We finished with a “perfect” margarita from the original Margaritaville, and the drink lived up to its name. The bar itself is small and dark, without the long lines (at least in mid-afternoon) of the chain restaurants that share the name. One more item off the bucket-list.

Back to Miami and the real world tomorrow, but it’s been a nice trip and a good rehearsal for the 16-day cruise from Miami to Los Angeles (via the Panama Canal) we have planned for next year. We really enjoy Regent Seven Seas and its (pretty much) all inclusive approach (including drinks, wine at dinner, etc.) that doesn’t leave you stunned (or force you to think about every decision) as you get off the ship. Nothing’s free, of course, you essentially pay in advance, but, as noted previously, I don’t like the nickel and dime approach of other lines (as in bartering, I want to know the cost up front and decide from there).

So many places to see, so many things to do. Can’t wait to see what comes next as Carolyn and I enjoy our time and each other’s company. (Our ship is the one in the middle, below.) Our next ship will be a little bigger, probably holds another dozen or so passengers, I think! Still time to join us....

Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/16/13, Cozumel

Our goal on this cruise was simply to relax and unwind after a busy year (end of my teaching career, lots of softball, personal matters, etc.), so we passed on the Cozumel excursions (many of which are “no charge” when you sail Regent; we don’t snorkel or scuba, which are the primary attractions) and stayed on board, save for a fast dash through the tourist shops gauntlet after you leave the pier. One of the vendors even noted, “Small ship, small dollars.” Apparently these places make their living off the mega ships with thousands of people streaming by.

It would be an understatement to say that I don’t enjoy bartering and if that expectation is the basis of their pricing then I’d just as soon leave empty handed, and I did. I don’t want to be a sucker, nor do I want to just throw dollars around buying things I neither need nor want. Being verbally accosted by shop-keepers selling essentially the same, uh, stuff, does not make for a pleasant experience. One jewelry store owner used a low-key approach that at least got us in his doors and looking at merchandise, but the proffered 50% discount for cash – which we didn’t bring enough of – gave us sufficient pause that we walked away to discuss a possible purchase but didn’t return.

The weather was finally nice, though, and the sun shone brightly on the pool deck and our cabin’s balcony. That is our “yacht to the right.” We are looking forward to our first visit to Key West tomorrow and will try to be more touristy.

Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/15/13, Belize

As the debate rages (well, at least simmers) over extending unemployment benefits in this country, this might be an interesting time to cover our visit to Belize. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat,” our guide said proudly as we drove to more Mayan ruins. (I’m a history geek, but not so heavily invested in the Mayans; I tend to think if you’ve seen one set of ruins, you’ve pretty much seen them all. The weather wasn’t conducive to other  trips, however.) I hear some heads nodding vigorously as she continued, “We have no social welfare system.” They also have no educational system, having turned that job over to various [Christian] churches which they subsidize (with or without favoritism, I wonder?).

Some Americans have even relocated to Belize. For that reason? I don’t know, but I appreciate the irony that Americans have been given land by the government. So does that constitute a social welfare system for wealthy foreigners in exchange for their spending power? The (relative) poverty and lack of infrastructure is obvious and wide spread, and I don’t see how subsidizing Americans will result in enough trickle down benefits to the people to make a significant difference.

One thing I noticed in both Belize and Guatemala was an abundance of trash piles. I’m sure the people are efficient in the concepts of reuse and repurposing, but the detritus is piled up around houses and along the roads, marring the supposed beauty of a lush tropical paradise.

Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/14/13, Guatemala

We’re leaving Guatemala and its port of muddy water, and I’m watching the dock workers watching the cruise ship pull away and I can’t help but wonder what they’re thinking. These are men with above average jobs and income, but what do they think about those of us who can afford such luxury? Are they resentful? I don’t know how they could not be, at least a little. Are we any more deserving of our fate than they?

I don’t feel guilty; it’s not my fault that my life offers me the opportunity to travel. To a certain extent I earned this; I’ve always tried to be more of a giver than a taker, to leave the world a better place for my having lived. Carolyn and I worked hard at our (giving)/serving) professions, did the best we could for our patients/students and colleagues, took pride in our jobs.

But we, and especially me, certainly had more than a leg up on the people we saw today, due mostly to the accident of our birth. Unlike the children we saw working today, we had parents who made sure we were educated, had opportunities to learn and grow, to have careers. We had enough to eat, had shelter and security. I had even more than that, thanks to the sacrifices of my parents, to their desire to ensure we could have a better life than even they had. That’s not always the case even in the United States, but in underdeveloped countries, the odds are even greater.

According to our guide, the literacy rate in Guatemala has risen from 25% to 33% in the past 10 or so years. Certainly increased education means increased opportunity. One need only look at the average incomes of Americans based on education to see that. I’m sure that is true in countries like Guatemala, as well, but I have to wonder just how much opportunity there really is for an educated Guatemalan. More than an uneducated one, no doubt, but so much depends on patience.

In my almost four decades at Hancock, I taught one doctor and no lawyers (that I know of – and I think I’d likely know). I certainly taught plenty of kids who were smart enough to become doctors or lawyers, plenty who, as freshmen, said they wanted to be a doctor or lawyer. Why so few then? Because the jump was too big, needed too much commitment, too much focus, and too few obstacles. Instead my best kids settled for success on “lesser” levels (not that being a doctor or lawyer are the only hallmarks of success). However, I’m willing to bet that there will be a number of second-generation doctors, the children of the many teachers and social workers I was lucky to teach.

Imagine the challenges in a country like Guatemala, though. If it’s that hard for Americans, where, for the most part, it really isn’t a question of survival, of not going hungry, of the opportunity at least being there, what are odds for child of third-world poverty (and yes, I know Guatemala isn’t even close to the poorest in the third-world). How can there not be resentment as the people watch us in our big tour busses or big cruise ships (which probably throw away enough food to host a feast for a small town), knowing how badly the odds are stacked against them?

I wonder what these people dream for their children? Do they dare to hope? And, if so, for what do they hope? Becca has a couple classmates adopted from Guatemala. Carolyn spent most of this day thinking how lucky this brother and sister are to have been rescued from the lives we saw here.

Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/13/13, Costa Maya

Because our goal for this cruise was essentially R&R, we had scheduled a day at a beach resort on the Costa Maya. Waking up to a steady rain with little prospect for improvement as the day wore on, driving for an hour to huddle under umbrellas or huts on wet sand did not sound too appealing, so we bailed and caught up on reading and resting (also a possible definition of R&R).

Mission accomplished!

Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/11-12/13, Miami

The first day of our cruise was a “free” day in Miami. We haven’t been to Miami since 1976 and that was for an NEA convention when I was distracted and busy (and in true-believer mode), and it wasn’t all that happy a time for us.

This time we stayed in a Conrad, one of the more upscale nameplates of the Hilton brand. What was most interesting was that the “lobby” was on the 25^th floor, so we had to go up to check in, down to our room, then up again to leave the building. There were also offices and condos in the building. But we looked out over the water near the port and it was within walking distance to a shopping and dining area. Not our usual choice, but a nice day that began way too early with a 6:15 a.m. flight.

Without any judgment I would say that if you’re going to live or work in Miami it would be to your advantage to speak Spanish. Heard lots of Spanglish, too, as people bounced back and forth between the two languages. I have no problem with that, as second and third generation immigrants are (at least) bilingual. The city felt more “foreign” than most American cities, but familiar at the same time. Very urban, and for a guy who has become used to a suburban life-style, Miami would require some adjustment. I think I could make it easily enough, so this is just an observation.

We let the cruise line (Regent Seven Seas) make all the arrangements and things have gone smoothly as we prepare for our journey to the Costa Maya, Guatemala, Belize, Cozumel and Key West before returning to Miami. The freedom to do things like this is one big reason why I decided to retire.

Apparently my doctor agrees. At my annual physical earlier this week he said, “You guys are doing it right. You never know.” He said things were good, so I’m assuming there wasn’t any subtext in that statement. But he’s right. You never know and opportunities are, almost by definition, limited. We are looking forward to a week to relax and unwind.

Growing Older, But Not Up*

We just finished our fourth cruise. Probably because we’ve never been on the mass-market megaships, the demographic with which we travel tends to be older. Carolyn and I are people watchers, and even with our current cohort, there’s plenty to see: interesting fashion choices, rocking, twisting (great?) grandparents, numerous “Greta Gotrocks” flashing the bling.... Any temptation I have to judge, however, must be tempered by the realization that the observer can also be the observed!   

It has taken me a long time to be (almost) completely comfortable with myself; now that I’m at least closing in on satisfaction with who I am, I begin to wonder if I am in danger of becoming the stereotype of the “aging hipster, trying to look cool.” Being cool was never a goal I wanted to attain nor an image I tried to project. The one thing I learned at Hamilton College (where I managed to accumulate almost a year’s worth of credits in my two years, so what I did learn obviously wasn’t too heavy on the academic side) was that if you have to try to be cool, you ain’t. (I need to add this to my Rules o’ Life.)

I’ve often thought, and perhaps even said to students, and others, I suppose, “Grow up!” or “Act your age!” If so, I’m sorry, because I’m struggling with what “acting your age” really means. Who gets to determine what is age appropriate, especially for adults? Who has the right to make that judgment?

While I don’t see myself as the prototypical senior citizen (I’m reminded of my mother’s ongoing complaint about living at Friendship Village, “These people are all so old!”), my age-number, sadly, can no longer be ignored. I now qualify for socialized medicine, full-benefit social security is right around the corner, a 15-year old AARP card sits comfortably in my wallet, “senior discounts” come my way without either a request or ID.... I must tell you, I’m not all that thrilled, although it certainly beats the alternative of my age being irrelevant because my ashes are in a box tucked away in the corner of a basement or even displayed on a mantle.

I’m actually, for the most part, proud of my age and the way I’ve lived my life, but I’m reluctantly starting to wonder if I need to self-impose some behavioral and/or appearance/fashion limits because of it. I admit to above average vanity: I was “metro” before metro was cool (if, in fact, it ever was or ever will be), but it took me too long to accept that part of me and I really don’t want to give it up. (Sigh) Maybe it’s time to forget about my appearance, to not worry about the growth of my ear and nose-hair gardens or eyebrow scragglers long enough to weave a basket.

My body constantly reminds me of certain age-related limitations. I no longer demonstrate sliding technique in softball for fear I’ll look like an “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” commercial for Life Alert. I don’t know if the pain in my elbow is from overuse, arthritis, or gout (this matters because then I have to decide which pharmaceutical remedy to add to my ever-growing collection of daily doses). Every day is an adventure, because while I don’t know what’s going to cause pain, I do know that something will before I fall asleep. My life features more daily aspirations than inspirations. I’ve learned, much to my chagrin, that the “Old Fart” baseball cap/t-shirt is more an early warning system than crude humor. I gave up a great job, in part because I no longer had the energy or motivation to give to my kids what they deserved (nor did I have the energy to keep fighting a system that continually encroaches on the professional autonomy of teachers).

It’s not that I work at trying to look young; it’s really more about trying to look how I want to see myself, although I do admit that I am also unwilling to look any older than I have to. I mean, I don’t even want to shop at Abercrombie & Fitch (for a variety of reasons; I certainly never was close to their target demographic) or Hollister, but neither do I want to be consigned to an image arbitrarily assigned as appropriate for someone of a certain age. I know dowdy is an unfair and unflattering adjective usually reserved for women, but.... I’m not now, and I’m not sure I ever will be ready to give up looking how I want, even if someone else (young or old) thinks I look silly. I refuse to accept limitations imposed by conformists with a rigid sense of acceptability or style.

Neither do I want to become the object of ridicule, however. That has always been my Achilles heel. While I know, intellectually, that people aren’t really thinking about me (Rule #7), I have always been overly self-conscious. Who knows, I might have actually enjoyed dancing without the benefit of therapeutic beverages. Being myself, however age-inappropriate some might find it, remains a struggle, just less of one.

The pace of my successful search for answers and self-acceptance continues to slow even as the rate of my declining number of days seems to accelerate.

Well, I think I’ll make that Jimmy Buffett song* (see title above) my new ring-tone and call it a night. It is, after all, almost 10 p.m, and I still have my daily 30+-minute skin care and oral hygiene regimens to finish.

Book Review: The Circle

This near-future novel by Dave Eggers has generated a fair amount of buzz and generally good reviews.

What is the logical extension of a Googlesque company (rebadged The Circle) knowing even more about you than it already does? What are the implications in terms of privacy? The scary thing about this book is that it doesn’t seem at all far-fetched. Google already tells me how often I’ve visited a site, personally tailors my search results; Amazon can pretty accurately predict what I may want to buy; iTunes suggests media based on my music library. I get cheery “Hi, Bob” greetings from innumerable sites. And FaceBook’s targeted ads are just scary close.

You’re reading this on my blog, to which you’ve either subscribed or linked via Twitter or FaceBook. We’ve already voluntarily given up so much of our privacy that the next steps suggested in the novel don’t seem at all outlandish. The technology is both conceivable and existent, for the most part. It’s just a question of organizing and harnessing the data, which is where The Circle comes in.

I’m not “slippery slope phobic,” although I recognize the theory. I think the argument is most often used to hang on to the past or to try to fend off an inevitable future. I tend to be a progressive and believe that change is not only inevitable, but that the pace of change will continue to accelerate. I also think that any lines drawn in the sand will be erased by the morning tide or next storm.

The Circle posits a social media company with the power to not only influence but control our lives. It’s definitely a cautionary tale worth considering. Still, I had to plow through it to the end, and it was heavy going. The true-believer protagonist (definitely no heroine) was neither likable nor sympathetic. I finished the book not because I cared what happened to her but because I wanted to see if the train would be derailed. 

Having spent time “camping” with the true believers I understand how momentum and inertia can take over so that you stop looking at anything except the gilded end-result. I probably steam-rolled my share of doubters, so convinced was I that my idealistic goals more than justified whatever collateral damage might have resulted. (This is quite possibly hyperbole, at least from my perspective; true believers tend to overestimate themselves, but also tend to ignore others’ pain.) I eventually evolved to consider other points of view.

The Circle is too frightening and too realistic to ignore. Whether that future can (or should) be avoided, whether it’s inevitable, those are important questions. I’ve written before about the downsides of secrets. Go ahead and discuss these issues among yourselves. I don’t know that you need this book to do it, though.

Thanksgiving Blessings Warmed by Hanukkah Lights

As Thanksgiving and Hanukkah coincide this year, I thought I’d take this unique opportunity to reiterate how much I gained from the four years I spent teaching at Schecter/Mirowitz; that starts by being thankful to my first head of school, Rabbi Allen Selis, who opened the doors to that learning community and allowed me to join.

I’m thankful for the warmth and welcome from my colleagues, kids and parents. I’m thankful for the opportunity to have watched faith in action. I’m thankful for the four different Jewish studies teachers I shared a room and time with – Michael Raileanu, Sarah Miller, Rabbi Ari Kaiman, and Rabbi Suzanne Brody – who were always happy to answer my questions and even let me participate when I couldn’t keep my mouth shut (unsurprisingly, a not uncommon occurrence).

They weren’t the only ones who shared their faith with me, of course. While it would take too much space to list everyone, Sue Albert, Rabbis Mordecai Miller and Carnie Rose, and Susan Low were more than generous with their time and knowledge; Rachel Armoza and Cyndee Levy expanded my culinary horizons. One of the beautiful things about hanging out with Jews is their willingness and desire to share their faith and culture, but without trying to impose their (incredibly, wonderfully diverse) values and beliefs on you.

Finally, I’m thankful for all the parents who shared their wonderful children with me, who trusted me to do my job and to care about my students in my own way. Some of those parents became my friends, and I don’t just mean Facebook friends. So did some of their kids. But all of my students from those four years will join so many others, from Hancock and Webster, as fond memories in a blessed life, illuminated and warmed this year by the glow of Hanukkah lights. 

Bully for You -- You've Got Self-Esteem

Is it too embarrassing to admit I’ve read Dear Abby, Ann Landers and a host of imitators (but props to Carolyn Hax, who pretty much calls them like she sees them) for decades and will probably only desist when newsprint ceases to arrive on my lawn? Oh, well, too late.

In a recent column, a mother who said she had been bullied as a child because she had low self-esteem wondered how to protect her own children from the same fate. Abby opined that instilling strong self-esteem prevents bullying.

Nonsense. Self-esteem is more like a bulletproof vest; it can definitely shield you from permanent damage, allow you to get through the assaults of adolescence, and definitely bounce back more quickly, but it won’t keep life (or bullying) from hurting – a lot.

Our daughter was bullied throughout sixth grade; it was a miserable year for her, despite the fact we had, from infancy, made a mindful and determined effort to instill a positive self-image, to the point that we occasionally wondered if you can go overboard in making your kid feel too good about herself/himself/themself. Then middle school hits (in some cases, though not hers, literally) and you come to realize you can't create a shield too thick for that miserable period of life.

During my year of penance as a middle school guidance counselor at Hancock, I used to tell kids, “You know, you’re supposed to be miserable, right? No sane adult would EVER go back to their middle school years. I'd be thin and have hair, could avoid lots of mistakes. I still wouldn’t go back.” (Okay, I used the same line with the high schoolers, too.) Most of the kids seemed to get it.

To be honest, once I made my escape from 7th grade, more or less intact, my own experience in those years wasn’t bad, at least in terms of relations with my peers, but we hadn’t invented self-esteem yet, and bullies only counted if they physically damaged you. We were mostly just expected to suck it up and move on. Actually, in high school at ISOB (International School of Brussels), we played an affluent white-kids version of the dozens, almost as a hobby. I held my own; good training for classroom teaching. 

I do understand the need to protect kids from bullies and intimidators, from meanness. I also recognize that social media has become a dangerous game changer. Schools do share responsibility for, at a minimum, making their environs a safe place for all kids, even the ones who don’t quite fit the prevailing social norms. However, I also worry that we’re now overprotecting kids to the point of robbing them, in a sense, of the ability to develop the toughness and coping skills that will allow them to compete in an increasingly cold adult world, one that features bullying as the primary campaign tactic of a former president (and may he remain thus; if bullying is a despicable toxic trait for middle schools, how much more despicable for an allegedly grown senior citizen).

To that point, you may have noticed all bullies don’t magically disappear after middle school. Some evolve. Most of us have had bosses who were bullies, colleagues who were bullies. Sadly, some have suffered from bullying spouses; I hope you have, at least, divested yourself of “friends” who were bullies. The point is (finally, you gasp) that the strategies we need to deal with this kind of person develop through experience. We can’t depend on our parents, the school, or the HR department to protect us all the time, at least from the name calling and petty tyrannies that are the weapons of choice for bullies.

Like most things, I don’t have complete, or perhaps even partial, answers. Another of the “joys” of aging (at least for me) is the growth of questions and the dearth of answers. Still, for parents, grandparents, and others who care, it’s a question worth pondering.

Originally written in 2013, updated to reflect current political situation.

Quick Movie Review -- Captain Phillips

Just got home from watching Captain Phillips, starring Tom Hanks. Bottom line – really exciting movie that grabs you early and doesn’t let you go. Tom Hanks does a great job, creating a competent, sympathetic hero. However, the men who play the Somali pirates are also more than just cardboard villains. We get at least some understanding about how these complex, varied men try to survive in a world stacked against them. The action gets rolling quickly with an adequate minimum of exposition and you stay tense, on the edge of your seat, despite knowing (sort of) how it’s going to end, because it’s based on a true story.

That fact has led to reviews critical that the story has been “enhanced” by Hollywood. Yeah, okay. So? It’s a movie, and even movies based on true stories, can’t be expected to be 100% accurate; they are, after all, only based on a true story, a story told from, usually, a single point of view (which means it’s only partially accurate in any case). It’s a movie, not history (which has multiple points of view, too), and movies, with the exception of some documentaries, are, by definition, stories.

Even the most exciting life is mundane most of the time – making a movie of it would require the judicious use of facts that would reduce its level of truth. If Captain Phillips isn’t a completely accurate telling of what happened (and I certainly don’t know, one way or the other), it is an exciting one. So don’t let that keep you from enjoying a terrific movie, a compelling story, and a good actor carrying the load. Best movie I’ve seen in a long time, worth your time and dollars, and probably better on the big screen than your TV.

Rules o' Life 3.0, with Annotated Additions

35. If you expect people to read between the lines, be sure the font is dark and bold – & don’t forget to double space.

   Even if something seems clear to you, the person with whom you’re trying to communicate isn’t necessarily on the same page – or even reading the same book! Subtle often doesn’t work.

36. Whether it’s arson or an accident, you can’t unburn a bridge. You might be willing and able to rebuild it, eventually, but getting a permit from the right person can be problematical.

   If those on the other side do not want to reconnect, it’s time to find a different route.

37. The pain-level of an insult is directly proportional to its truth-level.

   How insulting or worth worrying about is a falsehood? But if there’s a kernel, or more, of truth....

38. Unsolicited opinions are like pennies: easy enough to find one lying around and worth about as much.

   People will ask what you think if they really care. Actually, they might ask and still not care (See Rule #32).

39. Blaming others for your failure to ask for what you need is a little backwards. (If you don’t A-S-K, you don’t G-E-T.)

   Your friends and loved ones are not mind readers; if you need something from them, it’s your job to ask for it.

40. Just because you have the right doesn’t make it right.

   Make decisions involving others as if you were the other party. It’s called empathy.

41. Make sure your path to the target is clear when tossing a well-aimed dart – you never know who might walk in front of it.

   Nothing worse than hurting someone because you weren’t paying attention.

42. Rules written in crisp, dark black print on starkly white paper may be clear but are also fragile and easily broken. 

   I prefer fuzzy grey ones that let me apply my own grey (matter).

43. If what you’re doing to win her (him) isn’t real, the relationship won’t be either.

   And if it’s not a real relationship, how can it be sustainable?

Link to some similar ideas in a different form from another source

And now, the (revised) original list. Most of the phrasing, if not the idea itself, is mine, but those I knowingly borrowed are in italics.

1  You don’t get a discount on the Happy Meal just because you’re not….

2  Being “right” is over-rated….

3  Love increases in direct proportion to usage.

4  Better to ask forgiveness than permission.

5  Find satisfaction in achieving the best result possible instead of frustration over failing to achieve the best possible result.

6  There's no “undo key” for life.

7  Don’t worry about what other people think about you, because, in fact, they’re not (thinking about you).

8  Most people are capable of redemption, but only if you allow it.

9  If one sincere apology isn’t enough, forgiveness isn’t really on the agenda (Okay, maybe two).

10  Life is a marathon, not a sprint.

11  Not liking an answer doesn’t make it wrong.

12  Being correct and being wrong are NOT mutually exclusive.

13  If you’re both the host and guest of honor at a Pity Party, don’t expect a large turnout.

14  Although your body offers numerous hints, it’s when your mind stops growing that marks the beginning of the end.

15  You never know the limits of your reach until you fall on your face.

16  Try to go where you’re invited, stay away from where you're not.

17  If you can’t like yourself, what’s the point for anyone else?

18  Be a good audience.

19  Admitting that you are/were wrong is both cathartic and liberating.

20  If you can never be satisfied, don’t be surprised when people stop trying.

21  Wherever you go, there you are.*

22  It’s just so much easier to tell the truth in the first place.

23  Stereotyping victimizes both the typee and typer.

24  Just because you agree with me doesn’t mean I’m right. **

25  If you insist on seeing the glass half-empty (or less), don’t be surprised if someone just drinks the rest.

26  The loudest voice has no more claim to truth than the softest.

27  It’s way easier to fix the flaws in others than deal with your own.

28  You can always find something to complain about, but I’m not sure how that’s helpful to anyone.

29  People will generally live up to or down to your expectations.

30  If you want to make a fresh start, it will require more than a change in location.

31  If you’ve never offended anyone, it’s likely you’ve never said or done anything worth thinking about.

32  If someone really wants your advice or opinion, they’ll ask.

33  Hey, if you’re going to nurse a grudge, at least make it over something life-altering.

34  Pay yourself first.

35  If you expect people to read between the lines, make sure the font is dark and bold – and don’t forget to double space.

36  Whether it’s arson or an accident, you can’t unburn a bridge. You can rebuild it, eventually, but getting a permit from the right person can be problematical.

37  The pain-level of an insult is directly proportional to its truth-level.

38  Unsolicited opinions are like pennies – it’s easy enough to find one lying around -- and it’s worth about as much. (See Rule #32)

39  Blaming others for your failure to ask for what you need is a little backwards. (If you don’t A-S-K you don’t G-E-T.)

40  Just because you have the right doesn’t make it right.

41  Make sure your path to the target is clear when tossing a well-aimed dart -- you never know who might walk in front of it.

42  Most rules written in crisp, dark black print on starkly white paper may be clear but are also fragile and easily broken. 

43  If what you’re doing to win her (him) isn’t real, the relationship won’t be either.

44  You’re welcome to borrow or revise any of these, but you’re better off with your own list; it is, after all, YOUR life.

45  Always leave room for one more….

*Apparently stolen from Confucius. Who knew? I thought I was using something from Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension.

**The converse is also true.