I think I’ll cancel my plans for April 1, but maybe I can schedule a really great dinner, as I shift my calendar yet again…

1. Is April Fool’s Day still a thing? It’s been years since I’ve been pranked, or pranked anyone else, but this might be one of those things that’s a big deal at one point in our lives and then recedes. There are lots of phases like that, from an obsession with poop in third grade to big New Year’s parties in our Twenties to school fundraisers in our Forties. And, of course, back to poop in our Eighties.
   
   
2. If I think it’s important, it’s important. If I think it’s going to hold me back, it will hold me back. If I think it’s an infringement on my freedoms, it’s an infringement on my freedoms. And if I think it’s no big deal, it’s no big deal. See how easy that was?
   
   
3. When I was earning bread as a consultant, I learned that the way to be successful is to remember all the mistakes you made with your first clients and then, don’t make those mistakes again. It turns out that’s the secret to pretty much everything else in life, too.
   
   
4. I’ve had a lot of really great dinners in my life, but I cannot remember what we ate at most of them. What made them great was the people I was with or the back story from my trip. I think it’s particularly meaningful that I’ve never had a truly memorable dinner when I was dining alone.
   
   
5. I was on the board of a non-profit that raised the funding we provided to our youth group, while also calling on them to add even more to their budget by increasing their own fundraising. Since they had to raise more money, they decided we had reduced our support and we were absolutely unable to convince them that they were wrong in that conclusion. I get déjà vu when I read posts from friends who continue to cling to falsehoods, no matter how many times the facts are explained to them.
   
   
6. I was editing a home video the other day and I noticed that I'm still wearing a shirt that I bought more than 20 years ago. If the fashion industry is counting on me to help with their recovery, they are absolutely screwed. 
   
   
7. Being a grownup is one of those things that looks like a lot of fun until you get there. It’s like New Year’s Eve parties, homecoming games, awards programs, and getting your own apartment.  
   
   
8. I’ve been very critical of the vaccine roll-out and the government’s response to the pandemic’s impact on everyday Americans, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have come up with a better fix. We all have much greater insight into what’s wrong than we do about how to make it right. Although, seriously, I would have transformed every drive-through in the country into a vaccine site for five consecutive days and, bingo, all gone.

 
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After a full year of this CV Diary, it’s time to take a look at what I’ve learned and the times I slept through the lectures, including…

1. After a million Zoom calls, I’m still trying to figure out what the benefit is from this technology. Most of the time, it’s just an opportunity to gawk at people who have been wearing the same shirt for three days as they try not to be obvious while updating their resumes. It’s just a conference call, but it includes some very embarrassing visuals.
   
   
2. We always wonder how we’ll get through any situation, but mostly it’s just living one day at a time. While some people have been damaged irreparably over the past year, a remarkably large number of us have moved through it largely unscathed. So far.
   
   
3. I’m surprised at how surprised people have been during this pandemic. As events unfold, we learn new things, but a lot of people seem to think this new knowledge is evidence of something bad, or evil, and a reason to dismiss whatever new insights we’ve gained. I’m just glad I don’t have to wash my hands anymore.
   
   
4. I’ve also been surprised, not in a good way, at how eager some people are to avoid being decent to other people. If I thought the virus was 100% fake and that everyone wearing masks or distancing was an idiot, leftist, socialist, Antifa provocateur, it still wouldn’t lead me to accost them in the grocery store. I guess I’m not as brave as my fellow citizens, or as big a jerk.
   
   
5. Ensconced in our apartment for so much time over the past year has been almost the same as a vacation. I spend a lot of time in my room, trying to decide what I’ll have for dinner.
   
   
6. People entering the job market in 2021 will face such a changed economy from those who graduated in 2020, it’s as if they were in completely different worlds. Will the differences still be measurable in five years or ten, or will the next crisis flatten the curve?
   
   
7. I was disappointed to learn that my face masks were made in China and, worse, they smelled really bad. Then I realized it was my breath. Sorry guys.
   
   
8. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been watching a show where people go to another city and I think, “I’m glad I went when I had the chance.” When/if I get the chance again, I’m taking it.

 
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Welcome to the biggest conspiracy in the world, the great grandmother of all conspiracies, a plot so seamless we don’t even realize it’s a conspiracy at all.
 
Yes, it’s Daylight Saving Time. Since two o’clock this morning, or maybe it was 1:37  last Thursday, we’ve all entered into a plot to convince ourselves, and our poultry, that the sun and the moon and the stars and all the planets skipped a beat. For roughly eight months, we will tell ourselves and anyone who will listen that the natural order of the universe shifted ever so slightly, just because we decreed it so. 
 
Spring forward, fall back, do the hokey pokey, it’s all a giant delusion that we agree to share. Yesterday, the sun set at 5:45. Today, we’ll all agree that it’s setting at 6:47. Then, in early November, we’ll take it all back and whine about how early the sky gets dark in the winter. 
 
The whole concept is just a bit crazy. The very fact that we have time zones owes more to train schedules than to any underlying need. When every city had its own time, noon was when the sun was directly overhead and everything revolved around that consistent standard. Today, with typical human hubris, we’ve declared that the heavens revolve around our clocks, not vice versa.
 
In a very real way, though, technology has eliminated the need for time zones. Dividing the country, or the world, into standard times was a great idea for the railroads, but why shouldn’t I have my own time zone to meet my special needs? If I can stream my videos whenever I want, why can’t I change the hourglass to suit my mood?
 
F’rinstance, I love the idea of the sun setting late in the summer, but it sets before nine p.m. in Chicago. A few miles east of me, in Indiana, sunset is close to 10 p.m. Why should all those Indiana-inians get to dine out in the sunshine at 9:45 while I’m in the dark? Isn’t it my God-given right to live in a world where my sun sets at ten or eleven? Of course it is.
 
If I had my own time zone, I would always be on time for meetings, because we’d change the clocks to show the right time whenever I arrived. If I had my own time zone, I’d never have a late fee from Visa, because I’d just adjust the clock to make my payments meet the deadline. I’d never forget my wife’s birthday, or our anniversary, because I would just reset the time/date as soon as she reminded me. I’m liking this idea more and more by the minute, whichever minute I choose it to be.
 
Of course, I’ll need to be careful of the space/time continuum. Too much hopping back and forth to make time my servant could lead me to meet my future self and collapse into anti-matter. I promise to use this power only for good, or for really good pranks.
 
I haven’t quite figured out all the details for making this a reality, but I have eight months to figure it out before everyone wants to set their clocks back and I stop the motor of the world. In the meantime, maybe I can convince the fine folks at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich to just move all the world’s clocks up an hour or two and save me the aggravation. How could they possibly refuse?
 
When you click here to subscribe to Dad Writes you’ll never have to check your watch or your clock or your phone or that box in the corner of your computer or the thermostat or the microwave or the stove or your Fit Bit. We’ll tell you what time it is when we email you our weekly update and that’s all you’ll need to know.
 

 
 
 

 
 
We hold these truths to be self-evident:

1. We are all alone in the world and nobody can understand our challenges, our suffering or our fears.
2. We understand everybody else’s challenges, their suffering and their fears. Even more, we know exactly what THEY need to do in order to fix their lives.

 
One of our greatest skills as human beings is the ability to hold both of these views at the same time, often within the same conversation, sometimes within the same sentence. If mental gymnastics was an Olympic event, we’d qualify for Team USA.
 
In reality, though, each of us is a sample size of one. That makes each of us unique, but it also means none of us is an average Jane. We’re all empowered by and trapped in the circumstances of our lives and our journeys, so we all see things a bit differently.
 
In my corner of the world, the Coronavirus is real, the state is woefully behind in managing the vaccination rollout, local businesses are suffering along with their landlords, and very few people are arguing about masks. When I’m writing these posts, that state of the world is part of my foundation, even though it might not be a match for a good number of readers.
 
Many of you live in areas where the economies have stayed open almost nonstop or in places where wearing a mask, or not, is cause for a confrontation. For all of us, our sense of how the pandemic is unfolding will draw more from what we see in our personal lives than from the news. Yes, we’ll read the stories and check out the videos, but the sources we pick and the way we interpret the news will depend heavily on what we, individually, think is the reality.
 
If we know people who have battled Covid, or lost the war, we’re more likely to take the whole thing very seriously. If we don’t know anyone who has had to deal with the situation, it’s more remote and less threatening. There are tons of exceptions, because each of us brings unique combinations of experience to the conversation, but all of us tend to focus more on our own friends, our own communities, our own challenges.
 
That’s the crazy part about all our interactions with other people. We think we’re talking to someone else who is like us, but we might be mis-communicating about almost everything. We’re usually aware of it when we’re talking to a doctor or a lawyer or some other specialist whose language is clearly different from our own. The gaps are less obvious when we’re engaged with someone who looks and sounds like us, but brings a whole different set of baggage to the journey.
 
Sometimes the differences are small enough that they don’t get in the way. Other times, you and your conversation partner are both fluent in English, but you’re speaking a totally different language. We can’t find a way to make our points effectively, because we don’t see the other person’s filters.
 
Before we can understand someone else, and be understood by them, we need to know a bit about what makes them unique. Otherwise, we’re just talking to ourselves.
 
 
As we enter our fourth year of the Dad Writes experiment, we hope you’ll sign up as a subscriber and that you’ll join in the conversation. We know we’ll benefit from your unique perspective.