Calling All List-Makers: Game On!

Everyone has some sort of life list, right?

Call it whatever you want:

A Bucket List.

101 List.

If I Win the Lottery List.

Things I Want to Do Before I Croak List.

I can’t believe I feel compelled to explain this, but....

It's usually a list of big-ticket things you want to experience in your lifetime. Some of these lists are written on a cocktail napkin, while others are eloquently typed-up and uploaded to a fancy web site.

Again, it seems like everyone has one. Even anti-list makers have several unspoken "before-I-die tasks" mentally filed away.

The phrase “I should put that on my list” is totally accepted, understood and never questioned.

Some of these life lists have timetables. “Prior to death” is the hands-down winner, but I've also seen "before we have kids," "before I buy a house" and “before I’m forced to use a walker.”

My first life list was 101 things I wanted to accomplish in 1,001 days. (Confession: I’m the guy who
flamboyantly displayed
his online.)

Honda has even embraced this society-wide phenomenon with its new marketing campaign: Leap List. The concept, a CR-V can help you accomplish your goals before you whatever...celebrate your next birthday, settle down, etc. (So wonderfully brilliant!)

OK....the “What is a Bucket List?” tutoring session is officially over...quickly on to my point: I want to help people mark things off their list (kind of like the CR-V). I also want to write about the experience.

I mentioned this in a blog post exactly two years ago. The post referenced a VERY similar concept that MTV picked up and ran with – “The Buried Life.” I mused how I fiddle-farted around and let them “steal” my idea.

Update: The show has been cancelled, and I still think this is a tremendous way to connect with people, help them do something they’ve always wanted to do AND tell their story. (Again, I want to do it differently than they did on the show.)

How do YOU fit into all of this?

I’m ready to get started and I need your help. All you have to do is:

• Re-visit your life list (find it, write it down or dust it off);

• Attach it to an e-mail and send it to me;

• I’ll see if there is something I can help you mark off;

The only other request: Allow me to write about it (why was this on your list, what did it mean to mark it off, etc.).

Do NOT start making excuses before we even get started. The ONLY argument I’ll accept: “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

BUT as soon as those 5 ½ words enter your consciousness, you have to start attacking your list and marking tasks off. (Reminder: There is a reason these tasks still don’t have a line marked through them.)

Since this is an uncharted endeavor – I’m going to start slow. I will “adopt” the first six people who reach out to me.

Now, if you’re on board and don’t need anymore convincing – stop reading and send me your list. The accompanying message can be as simple as “Game on!” or “Let’s do this!”

If you’re on the fence, I want to share the premise of a book that changed my life: “Into the Wild” by John Krakauer. It’s a true story about a 20-something nomad named Chris McCandless, who hiked into the Alaskan wilderness and died. (I’m not ruining the book – it says that on the cover.)

Before his tragic and premature death, it was always about the next adventure for him. He wrote in one of his journals, “The core of mans' spirit comes from new experiences.” During his last days, however – alone in an abandoned bus in the snow-covered wilderness – he made a note next to the following passage from "Doctor Zhviago."

“And so it turned out that only a life similar to the life of those around us, merging it without a ripple, is genuine life, and that unshared happiness is not happiness...”

In his dying days, Chris McCandless (right) realized that the experiences that he had were extraordinary, BUT they were meaningless because he didn’t get the chance to share them with someone else. Next to that passage, he wrote “HAPPINESS IS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED.”

No one should suffer the same fate as Alexander Supertramp – the colorful alter ego that Chris McCandless adopted during his journeys. I’m not even referring to him dying in the abandoned school bus in Alaska. No one should mark the last task off his or her life list, look around and have no one there.

“Congratulations to me!” – highlighted by the deafening sound of silence and maybe the occasional chirping of a bored cricket.

Life is short. I’m sure your list is long. Let’s share an amazing experience TOGETHER.

Game on?

Words Come Back to Haunt & Inspire Me to Take a Radical Leap of Faith

Statistics show that the average person can expect to change jobs five to seven times in his or her lifetime.

I am humbled to say that I’ve already CRUSHED “average” and I’m quickly approaching legendary status. (Actually, the adjectives “preposterous” and “ridiculous” might be a better description for my resume.)

Since graduating from college in 1997, I have:

– Been a newspaper designer at two different newspapers
– Served as a college admissions counselor
– Coached football
– Been a football recruiting coordinator
– Worked in athletic administration at a major university
– Started my own business
– Helped a non-profit tell its story through marketing
– Been a consultant
– Worked at an advertising agency
– Peeked into the world of Oil and Gas.

That’s 11 jobs in 11 years. (Needless to say, I have an impressive stack of business cards with my name on them.)

Do I win something?

What about a lobotomy and/or a day pass at the closest mental institution?

My most recent career change is the reason for this blog post. Two days ago, I walked away from a company that I whole-heartedly believed in – making more money than I’d ever made before – because I was not appreciated and/or valued.

I quit without another job lined up, because I wasn’t being true to myself – going to work every day under a cloud of uncertainty and distrust.

Please know, when I say “quit” ... I approached the owners and said: “This will be my last day to work here. Thank you for the opportunity. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

I grabbed my computer bag and left.

It has always been important to me to leave a job on good terms, and to make sure that I left things in better shape than when I arrived.

That was not exactly the case this time, especially in regards to leaving on the best of terms. There was no two-weeks notice and/or mutually-beneficial exit strategy. (Obviously, there was not going away party.)

I can honestly say it was one of the least proudest moments of my life AND the proudest thing that I’ve ever done.

I had to walk away, and I had to do it right then.

A friend of mine put it best: “They didn’t deserve you.” And even though she made it sound like I was breaking up with a controlling, self-righteous, witch of a girlfriend, she was right.

If I had gone to work one more day, I would have been a hypocritical glutton for punishment. (More poetically referred to as a wuss.)

Was it easy to walk away? Hell, no!

Before my departure, my heart was beating out of my chest as I stared at a picture of my wife and son. My emotions ranged from sadness and anxiety to utter terror as I continuously asked myself: “What the hell am I about to do?”

Then it happened – a whisper from God. I received an e-mail from a friend that simply said:

Here's a reminder in case you need one:

“As our pastor closed us in prayer, I told God that I feel like I AM living ‘full throttle’ and I expressed my gratitude. Thanks to my faith in Him – I'm able to live boldly without any fear. (Not reckless...just boldly.) I'm able to take risks. I'm able to chase my dreams. I'm able to love with all my heart. I'm able to be the best husband, brother, son, and boss that I can be.”

My earnest response: “Wow! Who wrote that?”

Friend: “You did, nerd! In a blog post in 2009.”

The message spoke directly to my racing heart, but being re-introduced to my own thoughts and words was even more profound. My fear and apprehension was quickly replaced with confidence.

Before I received that e-mail, I was taking a leap of faith – clueless about what I was going to do next, But three VERY simple words gave me the courage to embrace my future:

“You”... “Did”...“Nerd”

It was a welcomed slap across the face – I FINALLY recognized that I need to leverage the gifts that God has blessed me with and inspire others through my writing.

So what does that exactly mean?

It’s time to write and write some more. It’s time to be true to myself and help other people do wonderfully great things.

Maybe this leap of faith will actually inspire someone to punch their fear in the face and make a radical change of their own.

I’ll close with this incredible reminder from Max Lucado’s
book, Fearless:

Fear never wrote a symphony or poem, negotiated a peace treaty or cured a disease. Fear never pulled a family out of poverty or a country out of bigotry. Fear never saved a marriage or a business. Courage did that. Faith did that. People who refused to consult or cower to their timidities did that. But fear itself? Fear herds us into a prison and slams the doors.

Lucado then asks: “Wouldn’t it be great to walk out?”

Yeah, it would....so I did.

Eyes Wide Open: Being an Absentee Father

I recently described business travel as “glamorous.”

That was the best adjective I could think of after eating peanuts and drinking stale coffee on a 6 a.m. flight to New Orleans. (That was the most sarcasm-inducing “breakfast” I had ever eaten.)

I was in the Big Easy working on an out-of-the-box social media campaign for Tulane Athletics.

The only reason I’m sharing this boring behind-the-scenes information: I think it’s important that you know and understand why I abandoned my family for an entire week.

Why I abandoned my wife.

Why I abandoned my 19-month-old son.

Why I abandoned my dog.

FOR EIGHT DAYS!

I really thought I was a big boy. I thought I could handle it.

Nope.

I was standing on the doormat to hell, screaming: “Excuse me! I have a reservation for one!”

I was miserable. I missed them like CRAZY, and each and every day I missed them that much more.

Thank goodness my understanding and VERY cool wife kept me sane. She sent me two to three photos a day of my “Little Man,” and every time it made me smile.

I thought I share some of my favorites:

My boy loves ANYTHING with a steering wheel.

He's a fan of pickles, too.

I told you about steering wheels, right?

(I'm entering this shot into PWT Hall of Fame)

When I'm gone for long periods of time,

Crash starts interviewing new daddies.

Tell my son: "Show me your eyes"

and this is what you get.

Crash: Don't drink and drive!

An instant classic!

When I take him on an airplane...he's a little more hyper than this.

(Flying with his mom to see his grandparents)

"Show me your eyes!"

Social Media Experiment: Socially Inept?

EDITOR’S NOTE: This was written Oct. 10, 2010, as part of a social media experiment that I decided to document along the way. I had dreams of creating this “scientific journal” but it turned into eight pages of babble. This is the third installment of a 3-part series. Click here to see introductory post.

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One of my last Facebook posts was a picture of me and my son at a Rangers game (right). He was looking up at me and I was acting like I was scolding him. I wrote a clever caption:

“CRASH: Dad, I like how the Rangers match-up against Tampa Bay in the playoffs. ME: BOY! If you just jinxed them...I’m going to spank your tiny little butt.”

Funny, right?

All I could think about after uploading that picture were the potential responses.

“How many people are going to comment on this post?”

“Is anyone going to ‘like’ it?”

“Cute baby photos with funny captions ALWAYS generate some dialogue...and then you throw in the Rangers. WOW! This should be huge!”

“Please! Please! Please!”

Confession: I’m not that pathetic, but I DID login several times to see if anyone had left a comment. (Actually, that’s more embarrassing than my pseudo, over-dramatic thought process.)

But that’s why we post and/or Tweet, right? To get feedback, comments, reTweets?

Otherwise social media isn’t very “social.”

This desire for online interaction started to impact my psyche, though. The adjective “obsessed” carries a lot of negative connotations, but it’s definitely appropriate in this instance.

I HAD to receive feedback.

More confessions:

• I’ve actually gotten my feelings hurt when no one commented on certain status updates.

Explanation: You think you’ve formulated just the right status update – it’s funny, engaging, something everyone can relate to. It’s one of those posts that even makes you giggle. But after you hit “submit”... crickets.

• I check my Twitter account daily to see if any of my thoughtful Tweets were reTweeted.

Explanation: Similar feeble explanation from above...but this is also the case when I share a funny or interesting news story, an inspiring quote or upload a fun picture.

• I would get excited when one of my random followers (Twitter) or a long-lost friends (Facebook) came out of the wood work to share their thoughts.

Note: No pitiful explanation needed.

I just hate the fact that I needed that feedback.

Why couldn’t I just be happy to live peacefully in my quite narcissistic world?

Why couldn’t I be like everyone else and post about where I was or what I was eating? No one is going to respond about a turkey sandwich or the fact I was at Starbucks AGAIN.

This need for online interaction even started to impact my life. I would stress about making the “perfect post,” which means I was thinking about it ALL THE TIME.

I was planning my next update during life’s mundane activities – taking a shower, driving to work and/or mowing the lawn.

But major life events were not exempt.

Example: I was planning my status update even before my just-born son had the birthing goop washed off of him. And I already mentioned the first time my son ate real food – I snapped a photo after his first bite and then raced to the computer.

Yep...missed it all.

I guess I just HAD to have one of my “friends” write “Cute” or “Like father, like son” to get me to my next post.

Social Media Experiment: Tweetest Time to Post

EDITOR’S NOTE: This was written Oct. 6, 2010, as part of a social media experiment that I decided to document along the way. I had dreams of creating this “scientific journal” but it turned into eight pages of babble. Click here to see introductory post.

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While I’ve already admitted extensive use of social media on a daily basis – there are certain times when I become a status-updating fiend:

• During TCU Football Games

• During Texas Ranger Baseball Games

• When I am traveling

Kickoff...Tweet.

First pitch...status update.

Standing in security checkpoint at airport...Tweet, Tweet, status update, Tweet.

The only thing I can figure: I am obsessively passionate about the Frogs and Rangers and there is A LOT of down time at the airport.

We’ll...it’s only been two days, but I’ve already I received my first test in this social media experiment.

For the first time in 11 years, my beloved Texas Rangers played in a postseason game.

Reminder: First pitch...status update.

NOT THIS TIME!

It was the biggest game since 1999 and I couldn’t Tweet about it.

I couldn’t gripe about blown calls, crappy managerial decisions or missed scoring opportunities.

I couldn’t “cheer” with other Ranger fans when something magical happened.

Every time one of these moments occurred during Game 1, I instinctively reached for my Blackberry.

But I stopped myself, quickly realizing that my “sickness” was even impacting the way I watched a baseball game.

To help me cope, I decided that “detox posting” was necessary. (Fake posts typed into Microsoft Word.) I found it very comforting to share what I would have posted/Tweeted.

Here are my quasi-updates:

“I’m not throwing a pitch or taking a swing, but I am beyond-myself nervous heading into this playoff game. GO RANGERS!”

“Had big plans to watch game at local bar – nothing like baseball & beer at 12:30 on weekday. BUT THEN, I got a call from my sick wife. Homeward Bound.”

“A LOT of nervous energy...forced to clean house between innings. My house will be spotless by the time this game is over.”

“Making mental note of people who e-mail or call me during the game. They’ll be officially put on a list of people who don’t really like me very much.”

“Rangers win! Nerves temporarily calmed. Unfortunately have to get back to work. – dang you, 12:30 playoff game!”

“Since I’m superstitious: I have to watch rest of playoffs on my couch, son has to have explosive diarrhea & wife must lay on bathroom floor, trying not to chunk.”

The “detox posting” definitely helped, but I think I’m going to draw a line in the sand and just stop for the rest of the playoffs.

Maybe I’ll pay more attention to the game.

Maybe I’ll just yell at my kid and/or dog if the Rangers do something stupid.

Maybe I’ll just appreciate it for what it is – baseball in October.

Maybe I’ll actually enjoy a victory.

By the time you’re reading this...the Rangers could be World Champions. (Of course, no one will know because I wasn’t able to Tweet about it.)*

*Editor’s Note: Damn those San Francisco Giants.