Tommy: Did you hear I finally graduated?

Richard Hayden: Yeah, and just a shade under a decade, too, all right.

Tommy: You know, a lot of people go to college for seven years…

Tommy Boy

They say you never stop learning, and I am the epitome of that adage.

I graduated high school in ’82, received my Associates’ Degree in 2009, and am currently trying to get my Bachelors’ Degree through OSU-Tulsa. I’ve taken Spanish courses and marketing courses and continuing education courses in micro- and macro-economics. I was a MAS-certified trainer for a short while. I’ve been on leadership retreats, and even took piano lessons for a time. The fun never seems to end.

I’ve taken painting lessons and drawing lessons and guitar lessons and driving lessons. I learned how to coach young boys playing flag football and how to get little kids to play soccer. I know how to cook and load a dishwasher and put the dishes away. I was born knowing none of those things – I had to learn them as well.

I believe my constant desire to do new things – actually, my constant vacillation between what sparks my interest and what bores me – is the driving force behind my being a jack-of-all-trades (but master of none). Once I accomplish what I set out to do – whether it’s painting a tree or recording an album or writing a book – I’m ready to move on to the next thing.

I went back to college in 2004, after the twins were born. My wife and I were both working, and with three kids, one of us would have been working just to pay for daycare. She had the better benefits, so I quit my job and became a stay-at-home dad. I chose accounting because I already had a few credit hours, and that was the quickest degree I could get. I went to school at night, one or two classes at a time.

Seven years after the boys were born, I had my degree.

Fast forward a few years. I began taking junior-level course at Oklahoma State University-Tulsa back in 2013, taking a class here and a class there. Then I encountered marketing, and a new passion was born. I am leaning towards changing my course of study from business administration to marketing. In fact, I have a call in to my OSU-Tulsa guidance counselor to discuss making this change.

Regardless of which degree I pursue – business admin, marketing, or some other discipline that hasn’t yet piqued my interest – I should be able to complete the degree program by 2023.

Seven years after I started.

What I’ve Learned

I’ve learned that, for me at least, the process of learning new things is just as satisfying as having learned the thing.

Let me tell you a little bit about my friends and bandmates.

It all started with Steve and Kevin. Along with a couple of other friends, they started a band called Lost Giants in 2016 as a tribute to Steve’s brother Chris, who had just died unexpectedly. I joined the group in late 2016, and that morphed into Flaming Bagpipes. Bryan became our drummer in early 2018 and we changed our name to Bent & Bruised. We’ve been rocking out ever since.

Steve is the driving force behind the band, both as our bass player and as a constant source of inspiration. He has a musical background, but had never picked up a stringed instrument until three years ago. He continues to improve as a bassist, partly through natural musical ability and partly because he never puts the damn thing down (according to his wife). To hear him play is to witness true musical fire and grit. Steve imbues everything he does with passion, and his music is no different.

Bryan is the backbone of our little project. Having played in many bands, his experience has been invaluable to us. There isn’t a rhythmic pattern that he can’t play, and as a long-time veteran of the gig scene in Tulsa as well as being a small business owner, Bryan knows business as well as the inner workings of being a band in Tulsa, inside and out. The consummate pro, we would only be half the band we are now without his steady hand on the drum kit.

Kevin is the spiritual leader of the band. As lead guitarist and vocalist, it is his vision of what a band should be that guides us. His musical acumen is second-to-none, and he is certainly the most gifted and talented guitarist I’ve had the privilege to play with, which is saying a lot. Kevin’s attention to detail, while oft-times frustrating to the rest of us, always brings out the best in everyone. Without his vision and experience of playing in a band in college, the rest of us would just be a bunch of guys making noise in the garage. If Steve is the lifeblood and Bryan is the backbone, Kevin is the heart of band.

The thing I love most about hanging with these guys as that we are truly greater than the sum of our parts, both musically and as human beings. The band is a true democracy, and we are there for each other when we need to be, both musically and personally. We’ve taken trips together, gone to concerts together, and gone bar hopping together, both with and without our wives. We are truly a band of brothers.

What I’ve Learned

There’s no better feeling that spending hours upon hours creating music with people you genuinely love.

I’ve always loved Mondays.

To my way of thinking, Monday represents a chance to reset and get it right, to be better than I was the previous week. Sometimes weekends are just as jam-packed with activities as the week is, and sometimes (like this past one) it’s an opportunity to unwind and decompress. In either case, Monday is an opportunity to begin fresh.

Psychologists tell us that it isn’t healthy, but I suspect part of the reason I so enjoy Mondays is that I’ve always been the type of person who’s personal identity and self-worth is inextricably link to what I do for a living. I physically spend nine hours at the office (more or less) every day of the week, and I’ve been accessible 24/7 for as long as I’ve owned a cell phone. Some of my “off-duty” activities tie directly back to my job, as well – going back to school to complete my bachelor’s degree, for example, is tied to my desire to continually grow and improve within the company.

Pick up any calendar and you’ll see the week is supposed to start on Sunday. This practice dates back thousands of years – ancient Egyptians wanted to honor Ra, the sun god, by designating the first day of their newly-created seven-day week as Sun’s day. This was passed on the the Romans, who designated the first day as dies solis. For many Christians, this continued tradition is based on the Bible, which notes that God said, “Let there be light!” on the first day of creation.

(I realize that I’m leaving out quite a few cultures – Slavs and the Chinese to name two – that actually start their weeks on Sunday. In many of those instances, their “Sunday” is not named after any sort of sun deity, and is in fact called something different. In Hungary, for example, their Sunday is actually called “market day,” and in Old Russian it is often referred to as “free day.”)

According to ISO 8601, which describes the internationally accepted method for discussing dates and times, Monday is the first day of the week. The United States, Canada, and Japan all consider it to be the second day of the week. (For more on this fascinating subject, visit here: https://www.iso.org/iso-8601-date-and-time-format.html)

This may be my recently-discovered patrimonio mexicaño showing itself, but my week has always started on Monday, for as long as I can remember. I consider the weekend to be a set of two days, inseparable and meant to be experienced as one experience, like chapters six and seven in a book. Others view it as something more akin to bookends, with Sunday on one end and Saturday on the other, to be experienced as two separate entities.

Psychologically, most everything I do on Saturday would fall into the category of “unwinding” for the previous week, while everything I do on Sunday (laundry, for example) is in preparation for the upcoming week. I’ve always made this mental separation of the two days – Saturday for relaxing, Sunday for preparation.

My view of Monday certainly goes against what popular culture would have you believe about this day of the week – a list of popular song titles makes this very evident. Blue Monday, Manic Monday, Stormy Monday, I Don’t Like Mondays, Rainy Days and Mondays – this list seems endless. I’m not really sure where all of this animosity towards the first day of the week comes from, but I suspect many of these songwriters were in denial about what a productive day Monday can be if you just put your mind to it.

I’m writing this early on a Sunday morning, and as I type I’m mentally preparing for everything I need to accomplish today in order to be prepared for the new week starting tomorrow. I’ve sorted the laundry, decided which shirts I need to iron for work next week, verified which rooms on campus my two new classes are in, and checked emails to make sure there are no outstanding tasks that need to be completed before the week begins tomorrow. In the words of the great yellow poet, SpongeBob SquarePants, “I’m ready, I’m ready!”

I’m excited for the new beginning that this Monday will bring – are you?

What I’ve Learned

I’ve learned more than I could ever want to know about why Sunday actually isn’t the first day of the week, despite what your calendar is trying to tell you.

Nothing exemplifies my ever-shifting opinion on everything better than my thoughts on the weather.

For background, I grew up in southern California, but probably not the southern California you’re picturing in your mind right now. Where I grew up (first in the San Fernando Valley, then in the San Joaquin valley), winters were always mild and wet, summers were always warm and arid. Spring and fall consisted of fog. In fact, most of the mornings that I can remember consisted of limited visibility, regardless of the season.

After high school, I spent two years in England and three years in Italy. The weather north of London was exactly how you’ve seen it depicted on television – cloudy, rainy, and bleak. Southern Italy was hot most of the time, and since I lived on the coast near the port city of Brindisi, afternoon rain was a common occurrence.

Oklahoma is different – it should have its own weather category. “How’s the weather today?” “Oh, the usual – ice storms in the morning, followed by tornadoes and a chance of hail. Although it’s below freezing right now, it’ll clear up and we should hit a high of 85 degrees by lunchtime.”

One of my favorite TV shows is the Weather On The 8’s shorts on the The Weather Channel. I love to sit and watch what the weather is now, and what it’s supposed to be later. I’ve been known to play on my phone during The World’s Most Dangerous Weather That Is So Awesomely Terrible That You’ll Scarcely Believe It!  just so I can catch the next 8’s spot.

Part of the problem is that I’m never sure which weather I prefer. This morning, as I was driving home from the gym in the light rain and cold temperatures, I started thinking about how much I missed the warmer weather. Had it been 90 and humid, I’m sure I would have been pining for winter.

When there is snow on the ground (an increasingly rare occurrence here in Green Country), it’s fun for about an hour. Then, I’m wishing it were a little bit warmer, a little bit less windy, a little bit more pleasant. Snow is fun to play in for a very short time, but eventually my frozen nose and ears get to me, and my fingers stop working, even when wearing the thickest, most water-resistant gloves. It’s the worst.

When we get days on end of precipitation, I long for the dry days of summer. I don’t like being outside in the rain, and Zeus hates running in it. I hate coming inside and feeling wet, my sneakers squeaking on the floor as I drip water everywhere. Being soaked clean through and having to change clothes for the third time that day is something I dread. It’s the worst.

And during the dog days of summer, when the overnight low struggles to get down to 90, I long for the cold temperatures of winter, and the ability to bundle up against the frigid weather. I can’t sleep lying in a pool of sweat, and I can’t function when my shirt is drenched the moment I step outside. It’s the worst.

What I’ve Learned

The truth, if you haven’t guessed it by now, is that I’m never happy. At least, not with the weather. Unless I’m watching it on The Weather Channel.

Today a good friend told me a story that really made me think.

She was driving home a few days ago, and was in the far left lane on the highway. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw flashing lights approaching. She looked down at her speedometer – uncharacteristically, she was doing the speed limit. Breathing a sigh of relief, she checked her mirrors again, turned on her blinker, and changed lanes to let the patrol car pass.

However, as she changed lanes, she heard a honking behind her – she’d inadvertently cut someone off. The driver behind her flashed his high beams aggressively while continuing to lay on his horn. She was sure she could hear the driver swearing at her.

What’s more, the officer in the patrol car chose that moment to shut off his lights and siren, erasing any evidence that my friend was forced to change lanes. For all intents and purposes, at least from the perspective of the other driver, there was no reason for my friend to have cut him off. The other driver followed her all the way to her exit, tailgating her until she was actually on her exit ramp. The other driver then roared off down the highway, adding a few more honks to punctuate his ire.

So, who was at fault here? My friend who tried to get out of the way of an approaching emergency vehicle? The officer in the patrol car for running his lights and siren, and then not? The other driver who was minding his own business until my friend cut him off for no apparent reason?

The truth of the matter is that sometimes things just happen, and no one is to blame. We are always so quick to try to assign blame and assess guilt that we lose sight of the fact that not everything is someone’s fault, not every negative event is the result of someone who is out to get us. Shit happens.

I wonder how many times my totally innocent actions have resulted in annoying, irritating or angering someone – unintentionally, of course. Sure, I go out of my way to piss people off sometimes, that’s just who I am. But I only behave that way with people I like and/or care about (the two are not mutually exclusive) – rarely do I unleash my wrath on an innocent stranger, despite what you may have heard about the way I drive.

I spend so much time agonizing over the annoying irritants I encounter every day – people walking too slowly in front of me, someone taking the last piece of pizza, Starbucks running out of peppermint syrup (seriously, how does that happen?), idiots that don’t know how to merge or use their blinker…what habits do I have or actions have I taken that have the same effect on others? Does someone not like my laugh? Am I taking someone else’s parking space in the garage at work? Did I accidentally cut someone off in line? Does my hair offend someone?

You can’t please all of the people all of the time. It’s more than just a well-worn adage, it’s the God’s honest truth. You do the best you can, and hope for the best. Sometimes you make the right decision, sometimes you don’t. The difference is in how you handle it when you encounter someone who’s ire you’ve provoked.

My friend just kept driving until it was her time to exit. She was fortunate that the other drive didn’t come after her, or pull out a gun and shoot at her vehicle – this is Oklahoma, after all. She did the right thing – she kept her cool and waited it out until the situation passed. She recognized that, although she did nothing wrong, in the other driver’s eyes she had. She resisted the urge to retaliate (by brake-checking him, for example). She accepted her lumps (tailgating, high beams, annoying horn) and moved on.

What I’ve Learned

We should all be more like my friend – recognize when you make a mistake, accept your punishment, apologize when you can, and move on. That’s the way it goes, sometimes – welcome to life on Earth.

And While I’m Thinking Of It…

The title of this post, as well as a couple of paragraphs, was directly inspired by the awesome tune Life on Earth by Snow Patrol – you should definitely stop what you’re doing right now and check it out!

I almost made a huge, life-altering mistake yesterday.

I’m not going to get into the details – suffice it to say that I had pulled the trigger on this action, and was going to go through with it. I consulted with people that had experienced the same thing, and I thought my decision was the correct one, the sound one, the right one for me.

Then, after I’d made the decision and gotten the ball rolling, regret set in. Major regret. What-the-hell-have-I-done regret. I spent the afternoon and most of the evening getting progressively more depressed, until I finally came to the realization that I was not going to be able to live with the decision I’d made and continue to function in a normal way.

So, I reversed my decision.

The very act of deciding to reverse my decision immediately lifted my spirits. The haze lifted, and I knew that reversing my decision was the right move, and I understood that I never should have proceeded with it in the first place. My mood immediately improved, the sort of improvement that comes with making the right choice.

What drives people to make decisions that they know are not in their best interest? For me, it was the lure of the quick fix. I thought that some immediate pain would be worth the long term goal, and often that is true. In this case, though, the pain would have gone against everything I purport to stand for. I would have been doing something that was counter to everything I’d worked for over the last few years, and worse, was counter to who I am as a person.

The regret that followed my decision far, far outweighed the more subtle, pervasive regret that had been building in my psyche, a low-hum type of regret that led me to making this ill-informed and ill-timed decision in the first place. In the end, that was easier to live with the existing regret than to have to deal with the alternative. At least for now.

I’m not one who is really given to too much self-analysis and internal critique. I make a decision and I stick with it, confident in the knowledge that I’m a pretty good judge of most situations and can see most outcomes, and following my choices through with grace and aplomb (mostly). And this situation was no different – I went into it with eyes wide open, and knew exactly what the ramifications would be.

It was only after making this particular decision that I began to realize that I didn’t want to live with the results, that my decision was the wrong one, and that I would regret making the move for many years to come. It was the sort of life-altering crossroads where I could clearly see the results of both sticking with my decision, and reversing it. I chose the road I’d already been traveling, and that made all the difference.

I made the call (actually, sent the email) to express my regrets and reverse my decision. And felt 100% better, confident in the knowledge that I’d made the right decision this time, a decision I knew I wouldn’t regret.

What I’ve Learned

Trust your gut. And when your gut tells you that your gut betrayed you, trust that as well.

Two clarifications: first, it was more like two years. Second, it wasn’t as glamorous as all that.

I learned to play guitar in high school. I’ve always been able to carry a tune; my mediocre voice and average guitar skills kept me playing in my living room for many years, never believing that I was good enough to actually play in front of real people.

Then a couple of years ago, I went out on a limb and managed to worm my way into a friend’s band – first as a keyboardist, then as the rhythm guitarist and part-time vocalist.

This musical collaboration inspired me to begin writing songs – I ended up with about fifty original acoustic rock tunes. I began to record myself playing on my iPhone, but was dissatisfied with the sound quality.

I did a little reading online, then went out and bought a couple of cables and a midi keyboard, and used Garage Band on my Mac to begin building songs. I started with cover tunes – Coldplay and Eagles and Foo Fighters. Once I felt like I’d gotten the hang of it, I began working on recording my original tunes.

I ended up with two complete albums of original material, and released both albums on iTunes and Spotify under the name S.E. Hardwick. To date, I’ve made about $15 total, allowing me to add “professional recording artist” to my resume.

Meanwhile, I began searching out solo gigs outside of the band. I started by playing open mic nights around town, which culminated with a standing three month gig on Thursday nights at a local coffee shop. Not only a professional recording artist, but now a professional performer.

I was having the time of my life, living like a rock star.

Except I still had my day job. And a family that was unimpressed. And other obligations – having three kids and being active in your community has a way of eating up a lot of your free time.

And then I got bored, and a little burned out. I had accomplished everything I’d set out to do – write original tunes, record an album, perform in front of paying customers. There was really nothing else I felt I needed to accomplish with this – I had proved to myself that I could do it, and that was enough for me.

And to be honest, I don’t have the dedication to try to do it full time. My skin is not thick enough to handle all of the rejection and apathy – there are very few things that are as frustrating as pouring your heart out on a stage while a roomful of people living in their own little worlds talk more loudly amongst themselves to be able to hear themselves over your music. Open mic nights are the roughest, but in all fairness no one but my family and a few close friends every came out to hear me play specifically.

So I’ve all but hung up my guitar. I still play in the band – I have fun with those guys, and we’ve played a couple of gigs, but there’s no pressure to accomplish anything other than have fun playing music with each other.

I do have a new plan for 2019 as well – I plan to be a published author by the end of the year. That’s what this blog is about – in much the same way that I played those songs over and over to learn them well enough to play in public, I’m now playing with words, using them over and over, getting a feel for what works and what doesn’t.

Hopefully someone will buy my book. I’d love to add “professional author” to my resume as well.

What I’ve Learned

I don’t know where to start! From a personal standpoint, carrying things through has always been a struggle for me – I’m forever being distracted by the next shiny object. Being a musician to frustrating? Hey, look – you can write a blog!

I love playing music – both by myself and with the guys – but a hobby is all it will ever be. I don’t have the drive (or the talent) to make it a way of life. And I suspect that if it ever became something I had to do, I would most likely lose interest very quickly. So, as I still enjoy playing music, a hobby it will remain.

While too much of something is always a bad idea, the converse – not enough of something – can be equally as bad. Case-in-point – staying informed with what passes for news these days.

I was thinking about this as my spouse watched her Sunday morning pair of news programs – This Week with George Stephanopoulos and Meet the Press with Chuck Todd. She makes every effort to stay informed, but with our schedules (jobs, three kids, etc.), that can be very difficult. Her routine usually consists of scanning the Tulsa World every few days (yes, we still get the physical paper delivered to the house), listening to NPR on the way to work, and watching the late news. Then on Sunday, she absorbs her two shows – two hours worth of political reporting and opinion.

She strives to get all sides of a given story whenever she can – she avoids the overtly right- (Fox News) and left-leaning (CNN, MSNBC) programs in favor of the middle-of-the-road, common sense reporting that one finds on NBC, CBS and NPR. (Our local ABC affiliate is owned by the Sinclair Group, so that’s obviously out).

I, on the other hand, avoid the news like the plague. When I listen to NPR, it’s Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me or my friend Denis’ The Rhythm Atlas world music program that runs locally on Sunday nights. On television, I’ll watch Shark Tank and The Profit on CNBC, or whatever football game happens to be on. When I browse Google News, I stick to the business and technology sections only.

I also purposefully avoid any sort of political or religious discussions whenever possible (which is usually all of the time). As far as religion, I find that to be an excessively personal choice, and outside the confines of church, has no real place as a topic discussion in my daily life, particularly in the workplace (where I spend up to ten hours a day during the week, and where most of my conversations take place).

Politics is just the opposite – by definition, it should be an excessively public discourse. However, the polarization of Federal and State politics makes the situation such that it is nearly impossible to have an intelligent conversation regarding differences in viewpoints.

But why is that? Why am I so sure of myself, sometimes even in the face of certain evidence. Hubris is a powerful thing, and serves no one. Yet, here I am, dead set in my political and religious belief, certain that if the other side would just think about it logically and intelligently for a minute, they’d see where they were wrong, and accept that my viewpoint was the correct one.

Trouble is, the other side is thinking the same thing about me. And so we remain at this impasse, unable to every make any headway to a reconciliation of opinions and viewpoints.

What I’ve Learned

Epictetus is 100% correct – you can’t learn something that you think you already know, and you certainly can’t change someone’s mind when they believe they are in the right, particularly if their viewpoint is fueled by faith and what they believe rather than facts. Belief is a powerful thing, often overriding the evidence before our eyes.

Only by being open to the fact that I don’t know everything – in fact, I know very little – can I have the open mind necessary to not only entertain opposing thoughts and opinions, but also to further define and strengthen my own beliefs.