Author: Mike Matthews

Who’s in That Lane!?! – Mike Matthews, the guy who usually writes the Who’s In That Lane posts, that’s who!

As told by Keith Robinson, guest contributor. This is a special third-party edition about this byline’s creator, Mike Matthews, and not by him.

Just a reminder that these Who’s In That Lane! pieces celebrate our club and our teammates, and help us to get to better know our lanemates and the people in those lanes way over there! I know we all enjoy being a part of CVMM, and it’s even better when more of us really know each other!

First things first. When you see Mike in your lane, it is time to bring your A game – mind, body, and spirit. That’s Mike Matthews, Ed.D. He is going to churn it out. Keep up. Good for drafting.

I met Mike at a regional meet – he signed up, attended team dinner, and cranked out an All-American Relay – at his first masters swimming meet – bad knee (later replaced) – and he had a blast. Very humble. You may have met some swimmers whose entire wardrobe seems to be swag left over from college. Not Mike. As he puts it, “I was a decent swimmer coming out of high school, then I finished 20^th in the intramural swim meet in college. Why wouldn’t I be humble about my swimming ability?”

Aside from being a very fast swimmer, Mike plays golf – mostly on SoCal public courses, but sometimes with friends on the islands. Mike plays guitar and sings in a band. Mike is chef and shares recipes on one of his websites www.principalchef.com – Recipes from Arkansas to Malibu. Mike writes – not just articles Who’s in That Lane – but also insightful musings www.drmdmatthews.com. It is amazing he has time to swim! Mike has been married to Jill, also a public school educator, for 25 years, and he has two sons, Ryan (35) and Dawson (23).

Mike has been the Big Kahuna of sizeable organizations as in Superintendent of Schools, and as in high school principal, and after 37 years in public education, has been retired since 2023. He still supports school districts around the state as a consultant. Mike has two degrees from Stanford, a doctorate in education from Pepperdine, and a certification from Berkeley. Now that he has a few more workouts under this belt and a new knee, he has traded up a few lanes. But he is still nice to those of us who knew him when.

Your intrepid reporter, Keith Robinson

To see previous Who’s In That Lane pieces, please click here.

Five years ago, I wrote a post about taking our youngest son to college. Dropping him off was a bigger deal than I thought it would be. It hit us like a ton of bricks as we watched every step of Dawson’s journey from the car to his dorm. We both had a good cry, then we went out to eat. Over dinner, in one of my infamous moments, I tried to console Jill by saying, “Well . . . you’ve been a great Mom.” Maybe not my best choice of words. Maybe my words implied that her journey as a parent was completely over. Maybe my words promised a future where she would never again get to be a loving parent. Maybe I should have kept my big mouth shut during a very emotional time for both of us.

Once again, our relationship survived my idiocy, and we moved on.

Turns out that empty nesting has been wonderful. Turns out that we get to still be parents to both Dawson and Ryan. Different roles for sure, but both of those relationships continue to grow and be beyond wonderful. Dawson has thrived in college and in graduate school, secured a job in the secure communications/cybersecurity world in Denver, and graduated in mid-May. He spent a week with us after graduation then headed back to Denver to start the next phase of his life. He’s super excited, and ready to go. As excited as Dawson is about beginning his career, I know he’s about to encounter something that every new graduate eventually discovers: adulthood comes with a lot of wonderful freedom and a surprising number of tedious responsibilities.

We are very happy for him, and there are a few perks for us in all of this. We’ve been in the pay-for-kids business for . . . a long time. I don’t want to calculate it all. Miles, my ChatGPT associate, estimates that raising a child through college costs somewhere between $750,000 and $1,000,000. And before anyone else says it, it’s worth every penny. Well, there was a year when Ryan was in high school where, I’m not sure it was worth a single penny. But that was 18 years ago. I’ve forgotten all about that. But for the most part, definitely worth every single penny. But I do look forward to July, when, for the first time in a long time, I won’t be writing checks or sending money to universities, apartment buildings, and of course, to my kids.

This is the “launching” phase of parenting. Unlike the empty nesting transition, I have zero ambivalence. This is a great thing for Dawson. He’s excited about making it on his own, and about being independent. I remember that feeling. When I signed that contract promising me $18,900 a year as a teacher in San Lorenzo, CA, I felt like I could do anything! I’m so happy for him and proud of him, and eager to watch his progress. And did I mention the not sending money part? That’s nice too. But let’s be clear – my feelings are mostly happiness for him. But the money part does creep in. I’ll stop now.

Dawson has so many things to look forward to. But I know, from talking to Ryan, that he will face many boring tasks that need to get done, and they are no fun at all. Ryan says, “My friends and I just hate the ‘adulting’ stuff we have to do from time to time.”

Here are some of the adulting tasks that I’ve been told are no fun at all by young adults: Getting rid of an old mattress or e-waste; Medical and dental visits; Dealing with utility companies; Getting a Real ID; Dry cleaning; Taxes; Being tired; And eventually, being a little older so that other people are looking to you to make big decisions and give advice.

Ryan is not alone. It’s a thing in his generation. There are so many blogs in the adulting category. These blogs could have titles like:

I Need an Adultier Adult
The Dishes in the Sink Can’t Hurt You. Probably.
Getting a Real ID Seems Harder than Earning a College Degree
The Check Engine Light and Other Anxiety Disorders
The One Where We Realize Adulting is a Scam (A Title that Friends might have used – and they included a great quote from Friends’ Monica Geller, “Welcome to the real world! It sucks. You’re going to love it.”

I found one blog post title that best represents how I got through most of my adulting and other life challenges, “Fake It Till You Make It is Probably the Best Advice We Ever Mocked.” I have always had an extremely positive disposition. For some, it is annoyingly positive. I think the key to me maintaining that was just accepting that the new challenges were part of my life and blindly doing my best to get them done. Less questioning. More doing. Find a way to make $18,900 work for an annual budget for two people? Sure. Change diapers at 2:00 in the morning? Got it. Work from 7:00 AM to 10:00 PM? That’s what the job required. Gain weight from not being able to work out and eating everything my kids didn’t eat? An occupational hazard of parenting and hard work.

Woody Allen is the one credited with saying, “80% of success is showing up.” No matter what you are facing, get in there and do your best. It usually feels better once you’re doing the work. And know that once one hard task is out of the way, something else is coming. As The West Wing’s President Bartlett said after getting through crisis after crisis, “What’s next?”

As our youngest son launches, I look forward to seeing how he manages his career, adulting tasks, love, friendships, fun and whatever is next. I know that his brother will be extremely helpful, as he is 12 years ahead in the adulthood journey. I have extraordinary confidence in both young men, and I look forward to continuing the parenting journey.

Five years ago, dropping Dawson off at college felt like the end of something important for Jill and me.

It turns out it was just the beginning of something different.

Post #146 on www.drmdmatthews.com

If you’re not on the mailing list, you’re missing out. Not only will I let you know when my blog posts come out, but every once in a while, you will hear follow up stories that non-subscribers don’t, and you will sometimes get my midmonth-subscribers-only message. I share what I’m cooking, what I’m watching, what I’m reading, and other news that had a profound impact on me. If you’re interested, please click here.

NOTES

My way of dealing with life worked for me. But acceptance of just about everything is not the only way to go. Not at all. I never considered other ways, but that’s on me. One of the cool things that Millennials and GenXers are doing is questioning everything about work. It’s the exact opposite of how I lived my life, and I have a lot of respect for the courage it takes to do something differently.

My sister-in-law Meghan is a major proponent of “fractional working.” It’s the idea of not accepting that a 40 (or 70) hour workweek is the norm. Some of that is simply reducing your budget to the point where you can afford to do that. One of life’s maxims is that the more money you make, the more you spend. Patrick Ewing, the famous basketball star from Georgetown and the NY Knicks, when asked about exorbitant NBA salaries, said, “We might make a lot of money, but we also spend a lot of money.” Meghan is pushing the idea that there is another way. It’s good stuff.

Another Millennial strategy is the FIRE strategy: Financial Independence, Retire Early. It’s the opposite of Patrick Ewing – make more money, save more money, keep life and spending simple, and get out of the working world as soon as possible. I love the outside of the box thinking, and I know it is working for many. I never figured out a way to retire early (though 61 is not too bad), but reading Robert Kiyosaki’s Rich Dad, Poor Dad did teach me about the meaning of investing and I have tried to help both of my sons with his ideas.

Ryan, who proofreads and gives me excellent feedback on many of these draft posts, did take exception to my comment about raising him not being worth a single penny. And yes, looking back, he was just a normal teenager doing normal teenager things. But here is the mistake he made. He was pretty perfect almost all of the time, and a joy to have at home. So even small transgressions appeared a little larger. And in the end, having a great sense of humor, he realized that the comedy of the line in this post outweighed the necessity of historical accuracy. We both had a good laugh, and now it’s online forever.

Here are some previous posts referred to, consciously or unconsciously, in this one. Some of them reflect concerns that I’ve had to may have been unwarranted. Sometimes, I think that the best philosophy of life is Mad Magazine’s Alfred E. Newman, “What, Me Worry?” But I do worry. And if you’re still reading these notes, then you know the crazy ways my mind works, not all of it for the best. Also, thanks to those of you who read the notes – If I could give you extra credit in life or the afterlife, I would.

Post on Taking My Youngest Son to College – From five years ago
And although it’s not referred to, I do hit some of the themes in one of the first posts I ever wrote back in 2015. One More Hill
The Career Dash – Where I talk about career journeys and my worries for Dawson and his search for his first job.

Dawson, Jill, and I before graduation. The flags represent the nationalities of all the graduates. A fantastic ceremony!

Dawson, and his wonderful girlfriend Kylie. Kylie graduates soon and will enter the teaching world in Denver. Hooray for another outstanding educator in our family! We can’t wait to celebrate with her!

Jill and I have loved visiting Golden, Colorado, where Colorado School of Mines is located. It’s a wonderful small town, defined by Clear Creek (where Golden’s Coors Beer gets all of the water for the largest brewery site in the world), the “M” for Mines on the Flatiron Mountains behind the campus, and a lot of wonderful people.

“I don’t know the answer to nothin’ about a blessed thing.” That’s what Mac Sledge, played by my favorite actor of all time, Robert Duvall, said near the end of Tender Mercies, after his daughter was killed in an automobile accident. He’s overwhelmed because he has been blessed with love and simple beauties, and then hurt to the core on too many occasions. In that same monologue, he says, “I don’t trust happiness. I never did. And I never will.”

I am right there with Mac Sledge on the not understanding a blessed thing. Stick around on this planet long enough and you’ll experience more pain than you ever wanted. And if you’re looking for understanding on why that pain comes our way, it’s very hard to find.

But I disagree strongly with Mr. Sledge on happiness. While I don’t believe that happiness is permanent, I do believe that if we are so fortunate as to have happy parts of our lives, that happiness should be enjoyed, cradled, and celebrated. I would love for that happiness to last forever, but we all know that’s not how it works. But I do my best to remind myself to appreciate the moments. To really soak them in.

I’ve been feeling both sides of this pain/happiness equation in the past two weeks. Let’s go with the painful parts first, shall we?

This past Monday would have been my son Sean’s 33^rd birthday. He passed away when he was four. Twenty-nine years later, it still hurts. I spent most of the day quietly reflecting. I checked in with Sean’s brother, Ryan, and Sean’s mom, Kelley. I visited his grave site, and like I do every day, I wondered what could have been. As Kelley said in a Facebook post, “We are grateful for every minute of the 4 years and 3 months we were blessed to have with him.” But we all would have taken a lot more.

Two weeks ago, I went back to Little Rock and visited with family. Those trips always include visits with my Mom. I’ve written about my beautiful, kind, and talented mother, and her losing battle to dementia/Alzheimer’s. It’s not getting better. This last visit was different, as she was sleeping almost all the time. At times she was too weak to even lift her head from her recliner. Still . . . when she was awake, her inner kindness and smile were on display. She believed us when we told her that the four old people around her holding her hand and telling her stories were her own children. As I’ve written, I hope she is internalizing this in ways we don’t understand, but, back to Mac Sledge, I don’t know the answer.

Then, on Friday of last week, I was driving from Malibu into the Valley and the canyon road was closed. That’s never a good thing. I wished for the best for those involved in a potential accident and took the detour to my destination. I did not learn until Saturday morning that the accident took the life of one of my neighbors, the mother of one of the most relentlessly positive students I have ever taught.

Devastating. I don’t understand it, I just know I hate it.

And multiply this pain by 8 billion, because we all go through it. Somehow, it helps me to know that I am not alone. This pain is an essential part of being a human being. And those of us lucky enough to have love in our lives feel it even more.

And yet . . .

And yet, amid all that sadness and tragedy, I feel beyond fortunate to have experienced the last few weeks.

I had the opportunity to go up to Sacramento, have dinner with my son Ryan, then have him beat me for the 1,356^th time in golf. I loved it.
In my trip to Little Rock, I spent a considerable amount of time with my Dad and his wonderful wife. I was blown away by how much my 87-year-old Dad has improved his physical strength. He has worked hard with chair yoga, weights, and his recumbent bicycle, and he is moving like a new man. So not only does he still practice a little law, and find time to critique my writing, he is now the poster child for the fact that it’s never too late to get stronger.
I’m the oldest of four siblings that my Dad and Mom had together, and sadly, blue moons occur more frequently than the four of us getting together. This past trip was one of those rare occasions and it was wonderful. My two brothers and my sister are remarkable people, but my favorite thing about us is how much we love each other.
The past two weeks have been full of time with friends—playing golf, pickleball, and music, swimming, sharing dinners, and even working together. I am surrounded by wonderful people who share my hobbies and zest for life.
In a few weeks, we head to Colorado to celebrate Dawson’s master’s degree graduation from the Colorado School of Mines. It’s been a perfect school for him, and he has a great job waiting for him a few weeks after that.
And every day, I get to celebrate a happy marriage that just keeps getting better. Jill and I know how lucky we both are (though our friends constantly remind me that Jill is by far the better half of this marriage – no argument here), and we do our best to make the most of each day.

Eckhart Tolle said, “You cannot be both unhappy and fully present in the Now.” I do my best to be fully present in the Now, to recognize the love, friendship, joy, beauty, happiness, and fun that make life so wonderful.

But sometimes, when the pain is immediate or the reminders are too much, the pain is the Now. In times like these, I want to embrace the pain. I want to wallow in the hurt. I watch sad movies. I listen to sad songs. I want to feel it.

Yes, Mac. I’m with you on the not understanding a blessed thing.

All this wonder. And all this pain.

And neither one lets go.

Post #145 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I’ve written two posts on my mom’s journey with dementia. You can find them here: Post #1 (2023) Post #2 (2025) And I’ve written one full post about my son Sean (2022): You can find it here.

Thanks once again to those of you who have been encouraging me to post. Thanks for the butt kick. For whatever reason, I need it these days. I love the writing, and it’s good for me. I will figure it out!

I’ve been with the band Run Screaming for over a year now. We have built our repertoire up to over two hours of music, and we’ve had the chance to perform in a variety of venues. It continues to be a blast. I’ve continued with my singing lessons and I’m getting a little better on guitar. To hear our latest highlight reel (some of which predates my joining), click here. And if you want to sign up for Run Screaming email updates, there’s a form at the bottom of the highlight reel webpage.

Who’s in that Lane for May of 2026?! Daniel Beylkin, that’s who!!

Just a reminder that these Who’s In That Lane! pieces celebrate our club and our teammates, and help us to get to better know our lanemates and the people in those lanes over there! I know we all enjoy being a part of CVMM, and it’s even better when more of us really know each other!

Well, it’s been quite a while since we’ve published a Who’s In That Lane post. Nancy and I have been besieged by CVMM members starved for knowledge of people who might be two lanes over. So let’s start making this happen. Our new plan is to recognize the CVMM Swimmer of the Month with not only a poolside certificate presentation, but also with a post that will be seen by all of the CVMM family and anyone who wants to look us up! Very exciting. And who was our April CVMM Swimmer of the Month? Daniel Beylkin.

It’s a good thing we are doing this piece, as Daniel is not one to toot his own horn. He’s been a member for about 18 months. When asked, “What makes you show up at the pool?”, he answered simply, “My wife.” (Fellow CVMM member Diane Beylkin) Isn’t marriage great?! Daniel is very busy with his software engineer job with Siemens, not to mention raising and keeping up with Tyson (6), Colby (4), and Brooke (2). Their children are starting their own swim journeys, but Tyson’s passion is hockey. So basically, all the free time that Daniel and Diane have is spent either at work, in the water with us, or in the water/on the frozen water with their kids. I know they are busy, but these are the best of times, Daniel and Diane. Yes you’re tired, but we see your smiles, and all of us can tell how much you are loving this special time of your lives.

Daniel swims in the lane where when he is pushed, he can do at least five 100s on the 1:40. Pretty darn good for someone who only dabbled in high school swimming. You’ll find Daniel in our noon workouts. If Nancy’s goal is to make Daniel happy, she’ll mimic our Fast Friday workouts. The more sprints (with adequate rest of course) the better. And if Nancy wants to make Daniel a little less happy, she’ll give all pull sets.

In spite of not initially joining out of his own free will, Daniel truly enjoys CVMM. Like all of us, he appreciates his lane mates, and he knows that these efforts, even the pull sets, are improving his fitness and health.

Daniel swam in his first meet recently – the Rose Bowl SPMS regionals. Way to go, Daniel! He went sub 30 seconds in the 50y free, and is close to breaking a minute in the 100. The whispers around the pool are that Daniel is “sneaky fast.”

So thanks to Diane for “encouraging” Daniel to join. And thanks to Daniel for representing so much that we all love about belonging to our CVMM program.

To see previous Who’s In That Lane pieces, please click here.

Submitted by Mike Matthews, proud CVMM swimmer since 2021.

I lack self-confidence in many arenas. Put me at a party where I don’t know anyone, and I do my best to look invisible. I’ve had a few jobs where I had to act the part of a salesperson, and I have found that I rarely have the hutzpah one needs to repeatedly ask for the sale. If I’m in a situation where the loudest person is the one who gets the attention, I’ll just get in line and wait my turn.

But in general, when it comes to fulfilling the responsibilities of my job, acting in my role as a superintendent or a principal, I’m pretty confident that I can say and do the right thing. Amongst friends, I have been known to confidently and frequently give facts about a situation, relate a very interesting quote from a book or a movie, and give opinions on trivial or important matters.

I’m thinking of the movie Broadcast News, released back in 1987, when the president of the network says to Holly Hunter’s character Jane, “It must be nice to feel like you’re the smartest person in the room — to feel like you’re always right and everyone else is always wrong.” To which she replies with great candor, “No. It’s awful.”

I get that.

But sometimes, and this may shock many of you, rarely, against all odds, I may be wrong.

Earlier this week, my friend Merlin and I were returning from Hawaii. We were flying Alaska Airlines, a company which acquired Hawaiian Airlines about a year and a half ago. I keep up with these things. You never know when you will need that information. I dropped off my golf clubs at the ticket counter in the Kona airport, and rejoined my friend. As we started our walk towards security, Merlin said, “You know that you dropped off your bag at Hawaiian Airlines, and we’re flying Alaska. Are you sure that will be OK?”

While I did not know that I had done that, I proceeded to explain to Merlin the litany of reasons why it would be just fine. I talked about the fact that Alaska had recently acquired Hawaiian, and that surely the two systems talked to each other. I talked about my knowledge of security processes, and how they would never have accepted and tagged the bag if the two systems weren’t merged and that my name checked out with the people flying that day. And I brushed aside Merlin’s comment like a bothersome moth that it was, brimming with confidence and proud of myself for knowing how things work. I might as well have begun my explanation to Merlin by quoting Prince Humperdink from The Princess Bride, “Unless I am wrong, and I’m never wrong . . .”

Fast forward five hours or so, when we are waiting for my golf bag to get delivered to the oversize luggage area in LAX. It’s a bad feeling when the baggage carousel stops and the oversized luggage door slides shut, and you’ve got nothing. I wondered what they had done wrong, and proceeded to the Alaska Airlines baggage office.

Two very nice employees looked up my boarding pass, and quickly saw that no luggage was checked in under my name. Yet another mistake on their part! What is going on?! They asked if I had my luggage receipt, and, after a little more time than I want to admit, I found it, and gave the incriminating evidence to them. Let’s see what they do with THAT!

The first thing they kindly said was that the claim ticket was from Hawaiian Airlines, not Alaska. “But you guys are part of the same company,” I said, reminding them of what they surely already knew. “Yes,” they replied politely, “But we have different systems that don’t talk with each other.”

Uh oh.

I looked at the claim ticket for the first time.

Another uh oh.

“Peter Mathews” was the name on the ticket. Also, the flight did not go to LAX – it went to Honolulu instead.

My first thought was that I was never going to hear the end of it from Merlin. And my second thought was, how in the world was I going to get my golf clubs back? Alaska Airlines had done absolutely nothing wrong. They were trying to find a piece of luggage that they never put their hands on and that no one knew was attached to me.

But over the next 24 hours, they worked with a great Hawaiian Airlines employee named Keola, located the bag in Honolulu, had someone walk it over to the Alaska Airlines people, put it on a plane, and delivered it to my house. That is a spectacular level of service.

A lot of incredible people worked to overcome my first mistake, and worse, my overconfident response to my friend.

And now both Jill and Merlin have dirt on me that they can use for a long time.

As my friend Steve the professor says, “Karma has a way of biting you in the ass.” Next time my highly confident correctness is questioned, even though I probably am right, I’ll pause and just consider the possibility that I could be wrong. Because Holly Hunter was right. It is awful being right so often. But it’s a little more awful when you don’t consider the fact that you could be dead wrong.

Post #144 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

Yeah, I know. It’s been too long since I’ve posted. Not long enough for some of you. Thanks to many of you for your encouragement. Retirement is interesting (well, semi-retirement actually), as you have so much more time than you had before, and yet it’s not enough. I’m working on it.

When Jill was reviewing my draft, she read the first line, the, “I lack self-confidence in many arenas” line, and rolled her eyes. Thanks, honey.

Hawaii was awesome. We were there at the tail end of the storms that battered the islands. Rain was forecast every day, but we were able to be outdoors all day long. I love it down there. There was very little downtime – golf, pickleball, swimming, cooking, eating, and even some yoga classes. I returned happy and exhausted – my perfect vacation.

And to Peter Mathews, the man whose ticket my golf clubs used to visit Honolulu, I’m sorry if this caused you any inconvenience. I hope you didn’t have to pay for my clubs’ extra travel experiences.

I actually hit a good shot here, but the winds from the ocean pushed it way over to the left side of the green. Sometimes the experience matters more than the score. Sometimes.

Enjoying Hawaii with my friends Pete, Brooks, and Merlin, all of whom have been mentioned once or twice in my blogs. Pete doesn’t really read blog posts (but I’m pretty confident that he reads something, sometimes), and Merlin and Brooks are regular readers.

Cover photo from ChatGPT.

Happy New Year everyone! First and foremost, I hope that 2026 brings you all joy, meaning, good health, and a heck of a lot of fun. For my swimming, golf, and pickleball friends, I hope the year brings personal records, a new age group, consistent workouts, long straight drives, a few lucky breaks, around the post shots, epic rallies, and as few injuries as possible.

As long-time readers know – I’m a goal-setting-New-Year’s-resolution guy. While I fail far more often that I succeed in achieving them, I do believe they help me progress as a person and as a friend. That’s why, for the past few years, I have chosen to focus on a word, or two words, and yes, sometimes three words, to give me focus for the year. I treat the word kind of like a mantra – a word that I reflect upon as I sit down with my calendar each Sunday night to review the week, and each morning to review the day.

So let’s get to it – my resolution/mantra/word for 2026 will be . . . DILIGENCE!

Some background first. I am 30 months into being fully retired. I now have some rhythm to my days, and most importantly, I’m spending 90% of my awake time on tasks/projects/endeavors that I choose to do. One of my main jobs is choosing those tasks wisely, being consistent about focusing on what I truly care about, and doing the best I can at whatever I choose to do. That’s where the diligence comes in.

Etymology lovers – unite, and sorry to everyone else . . . let’s talk about the word DILIGENCE. A diligent person works hard on tasks, pays attention to what matters, and follows through on their promises to get things done. But the old meaning of DILIGENCE (from the old French diligere) also means “to value highly, to love, to take delight in”. When I can get stuff done while truly loving or taking delight in the process, I am experiencing life the way I want to live it.

Aristotle got it. He said, “Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work.”

Now let’s not go overboard. Some of you may be picturing a scene from the movie Elf—when Santa returns from his all-night gift-giving galivanting. He declares that it was a great Christmas, and the elves erupt in cheers. Then he announces that their break is over and it’s time to get back to work preparing for next Christmas—and the elves cheer even louder. While they may be diligent, those elves clearly need a better union.

As I traveled down the diligence highway, I purchased a copy of Diligence: the Joyful Endeavor of the Buddhist Path. Diligence shows up repeatedly in Buddhists texts, and the author devoted an entire book to it. Honestly, I did not absorb all of it, but a few themes stuck with me. One message that resonated throughout came in phrases like, “The essence of diligence is joy. Finding genuine joy means personally connecting with what we are doing.” And the other theme was the warning that life is too short, and when we are distracted by meaningless tasks that take away moments to be diligent, we reduce the already declining opportunities to find meaning in our remaining days. In short, find joy in your focus on tasks that matter, and limit your time on distractions that don’t matter at all.

Is watching Elf for the 27^th time in my life one of those distractions that detracts from my life? Is laughing at Buddy the Elf’s antics every year a poor use of my time? I say no. Some books, movies, and stories are worth revisiting again and again, and Will Ferrell reminds me that being child-like can be an end unto itself.

Jimmy Buffett gets it. He sang, “If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.”

All of this somehow leads to the definition of DILIGENCE that I’m using.

The practice and resolve of returning again and again to work, activities, and relationships I care about, always seeking excellence and improvement, while consciously embracing an attitude of care, intention, delight, and joy.

Some of you skeptics out there may be thinking – OK retired guy. It’s pretty easy when all of your activities and “responsibilities” are enjoyable. Well, sure. That’s right. But it’s also easy to take things for granted, and not find joy in the little things. Walking the dogs, cleaning the kitchen, eliminating clutter, phone calls with family and friends, grocery shopping, and you name what else. Life is too short to take anything for granted.

I will say, finding joy throughout my day was sometimes challenging while working. But my best days were spent working with people who loved what they did, who would pause for a laugh or a story, and who found meaning in a job well done. So yes, it’s easier to employ my definition of DILIGENCE now, but it’s always been something I have aspired to.

Again, wishing you a healthy and joyful 2026, and I’d love to hear about your word for 2026!

Post #143 on www.drmdmatthews.com

If you’re not on the mailing list, you’re missing out. Not only will I let you know when my blog posts come out, you will hear follow up stories that non-subscribers don’t, and you will sometimes get my midmonth-subscribers-only message. I share what I’m cooking, what I’m watching, what I’m reading, and other news that had a profound impact on me. If you’re interested, please click here.

NOTES

Wonderings – I wonder how often Aristotle and Jimmy Buffett are quoted in the same post. Would Aristotle have enjoyed Elf? One of Jimmy Buffett’s songs (Christmas Island) did appear in the movie Elf.

My words over the previous few years:

2026 – Diligence
2025 – Self-Discipline
2024 – Masterpiece
2023 – Creativity and Self-Discipline

Diligence: the Joyful Endeavor of the Buddhist Path, by Dzigar Kongtrul. Boulder, CO. Mangala Shri Bhuti, 2024.

Image containing Aristotle, a Jimmy Buffett margarita homage, and a Buddhist Dharma Wheel created by ChatGPT. I also tried to add an image of Buddy the Elf on top of the temple, but that was kind of a disaster. Also, full disclosure, I do employ ChatGPT to review my next to final draft.

Word Universe. Here are words that you may want to consider when choosing your own word!

FYI, Jill’s word for 2026 is “GRACE.” I love it.

Again, from our family to yours, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

My brother Pat is an artist – I’ve written about him before. One of the coolest and most spectacular pieces that he creates is his seasonal studies. He takes a subject – it could be Colorado aspen trees or Arkansas cypress trees or something else simple and yet majestic, and then creates four separate paintings, one for each season, that are meant to be grouped together. Alone they are magnificent, but together they represent continuity in nature, the constant presence of change in nature, and the irrepressible beauty of nature. I love seeing each one of these seasonal panel series that he creates.

I love the seasons. I am fascinated by the science behind why we have them (tilt of the earth, anyone?). And although I love that Malibu, California has a high temperature of 70 to 85 degrees 275 days a year, I do miss the seasons that I grew up with in Arkansas. There’s something about the seasons that keeps the days from just blending together. When you see autumn leaves falling like pieces into place, or when you step outside to be hit by sleet or frozen rain, you just don’t take all the beautiful days for granted.

We’re hitting a “cold” snap here as Hanukkah ends and Christmas approaches. We’re expecting rain and highs in the low 60s. Kind of nice, actually, though it will put a damper on golf and pickleball. We swim in the rain here in California, unless there’s a threat of lightning. Kind of cool actually – you feel the rain and cold hitting your face when you breathe, while your body is in the 80-degree water and you’re actually sweating from the exercise. And being on a Masters team, you feel like you’re not a total crazy person out there swimming in the rain. Kind of nice, and yet I know that when New Year’s Day approaches, and the nation’s TVs are tuned to the Rose Bowl parade and football game, it will be a beautiful, warm, and sunny day. And on such a glorious day, even those west coast haters out there will say, well, California is not all bad.

I think you all know that I have none of Pat’s artist gene in me. I often say that I gave up all of mine so that the next person born in our family could be overloaded with artistic sense and talent. But when it comes to the holiday seasons, I try to let my inner artist out.

Our way of recognizing the seasons here is our holiday tree. Once the retailers start playing Christmas music – that’s usually early October these days – what the heck is wrong with us! – our holiday tree goes up. Our weather may not change that much, but the tree does. And just as my brother Pat creates a panel of season changes, our holiday tree is our canvas for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. They each have their own beauty, and they all represent the best parts of our lives in different ways.

It all starts with our Halloween Tree. Children love Halloween. One of the most challenging days to teach elementary school is Halloween. Elementary students are so excited that they can’t stand it. All they want to do is walk around in the school Halloween parade then get that candy! And the day after Halloween is no picnic either. In my calendar system, Halloween would always be the last Saturday of October. But that’s a whole different topic.

The Thanksgiving Tree is the most understated of all. Maybe that’s why I like it so much. If you read me regularly, you know that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It’s about family, gratitude, cooking, and eating, and there’s nothing commercial about it. And the calendar system needs nothing changed at all. It’s just perfect.

And the Christmas Tree represents all of the enchantment, miracles, religious significance, and family lore that a holiday should have. I have so many Christmas memories as I celebrate my 64^th Christmas – presents of course, a few white Christmases, Christmas lights, carols, midnight Masses, classic animated holiday specials, and an impressive array of Christmas movies – my favorites – It’s a Wonderful Life, Elf, Home Alone, Diehard, and Trading Places. Our Christmas Tree has ornaments that span back over almost 50 years. They include travel memories, homemade items, pictures, and gifts. We love talking about the ornaments and their history as they go up on the tree.

Almost just like Pat’s seasonal panel, our holiday tree is a wonderful, meaningful, dynamic piece of art, maybe even performance art, that displays in our home each and every year. The seasons may not change outside, but the scenery certainly changes in our living room. It makes me love this holiday season even more, and it’s a constant reminder of family, enthusiasm for living, and the magic of childhood.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, and an appreciation for all of the beauty, wonder, and love that the seasons, the holidays, and the holiday tree represent.

Post #142 on www.drmdmatthews.com

If you’re not on the mailing list, you’re missing out. Not only will I let you know when my blog posts come out, but you will frequently get my midmonth-subscribers-only message. I share what I’m cooking, what I’m watching, what I’m reading, and other news that had a profound impact on me. If you’re interested, please click here.

NOTES

Yes, the “autumn leaves falling like pieces into place” is from a Taylor Swift song. Jill and I are watching the “Making of the Eras” series on Disney +. I’m not a Swiftie, but I believe she is truly amazing. More on that in a future post.

The Rose Bowl is no longer predictable, and it’s now part of the college football playoff system. It’s still on January 1, and it features #1 Indiana vs #9 Alabama. It should be a fantastic game, and I hope Indiana wins. Also, you didn’t ask, but I actually like this new playoff system, even though there’s so much wrong with college football these days.

You’re probably wondering if we turn the holiday tree into a Valentine’s Day tree, or a St. Patrick’s Day tree, or a . . . let me stop you right there. No. No we don’t. I’d like to. But the love of my life insists that it go down, and that we have a normal living room 9 months a year. She’s right, of course. But I do think it would be awesome to have an Independence Day tree. But again, that’s crazy. Three months is enough. But is it really enough?

Jill reviewed my draft post, and when she read the “But is it really enough?” line, she said, “Yes, it is, Mike. Yes, it is.” Dangit.

You can find more of Pat Matthews’ art at https://www.patmatthewsart.com.

Two Mondays ago, Jill and I channeled one of the great movie lines of all time — from Risky Business. (I’ll substitute “heck” for the original.)

“Sometimes you gotta say, ‘What the heck,’ make your move. Every now and then, saying ‘What the heck’ brings freedom. Freedom brings opportunity, and opportunity makes your future.”

Both Jill and I like routines. I find that when I’m in my regular routines, I eat more healthily, I exercise hard and regularly, I sleep a little better than I would otherwise, and I get a lot done.

I don’t travel that often, but when I do, all of my routines typically fall apart. I repeatedly channel Jerry Seinfeld – “You sit down in a restaurant, and you’re like the ruler of an empire. “More drink! Appetizers! Quickly, quickly! It will be the greatest meal of our lives.” A few times it’s worth it, but it’s always a lot. Exercising is challenging, and more often than not, I don’t do it.

But usually, after a week of being back home and back into my routines, I can get the scale to be in the same area code as it was when I left for the trip. Victory!

In our most recent travel experience, just last weekend, Jill and I visited our son Dawson and his girlfriend Kylie. We spent some time in the mountains, including a visit to the largest natural hot springs pool in the world. They even had some lanes for lap swimming. Each lap was 33 yards, and Jill and I both swam a little. It was more of an experience than exercise. Swimming in a 98-degree pool does not invite anything strenuous. But it was a cool experience.

We came back and got to see Dawson and Kylie’s apartment – their first place together – and we enjoyed all of the things they are doing to create a home. We ate like emperors at an incredible Italian restaurant – Gusto – in Edgewater, Colorado. Pizza, salads, pasta, dessert, a little wine, and it was all great.

We flew out of Denver back to LA on Monday morning, ready to get back to our routines and our happy place.

But we had a crazy idea in the back of our heads, and we started thinking . . . what the heck?

Game 3 of this year’s World Series was happening that night at 5 PM in downtown LA. We landed at noon, went to lunch and talked about the idea of going to our first ever World Series. And off we went. We pulled into the Dodger Stadium Parking Lot (Does $80 seem like a lot to park?) around 2:00 and started looking at tickets. The way you get last minute tickets these days is far easier, and far more legal than it used to be. There’s an app called Gametime. Ryan used it earlier this year and paid $100 dollars to sit 10 rows behind home plate, tickets that would normally go for 10 to 20 times that amount. We hoped that as the opening pitch neared, we would be able to go to a World Series game for a true bargain.

Long story, less long . . . prices never dropped. We waited until 4:45, then bought the tickets for the same price we would have paid 3 hours earlier. Oh well.

As we hustled to our seats. Jill pointed out the four Fox Sports hosts sitting just outside the stadium – “Look! It’s the guys!” A few seconds later, Jill pointed up and cheered as we saw the five AT-6 World War II era planes approaching the stadium while Brad Paisley’s muffled but still awesome voice finished the Star Spangled Banner. We settled into our pretty darn high, and yet totally spectacular seats just before the first pitch, and off we went.

Little did we know that we were just in time for an all-time classic 7-hour,18-inning Dodgers victory that would not end until just before midnight. And yes, we stayed. And yes, it was fantastic! Here are a few observations from the game.

I never tire of walking into a baseball stadium and seeing the perfect and magically beautiful baseball field. The Field of Dreams movie spoke often of that magic. “This field, this game: it’s a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and it could be again.”
We sat about 10 rows above the club level – pretty high – and at the same time, just perfect.
Even though I was over 250 feet away from home plate, and even though I had no angle, I could absolutely tell when the umpire got his balls and strikes wrong. And I confidently booed with the rest of the crowd, like I knew what I was talking about.
They stopped selling beer after the 7^th inning, and they stopped selling food shortly afterwards. They made a mistake that cost them a whole lot of money. And I made a mistake by not getting a second Dodger Dog, a second beer, and some peanuts to carry me through the next 11 innings.
I loved it when, after the conclusion of the top of the 14^th inning, the announcer told us all to stand up and get ready to sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame for the second 7^th inning stretch!
I would say that almost 75% of the fans were still in the stadium when the game ended, and the only people that I saw leave were families with small children. Great job, Dodgers fans!
There were plenty of Blue Jays fans in the audience. There was a lot of good-natured ribbing between Dodgers fans and Blue Jays fans. But thinking about it, did I really expect anyone from Canada to be rude?
In the first few extra innings, there were about ten batters for the Dodgers who had a chance to win it with a hit. I have about 40 videos of the winning hit that never was. Eventually I gave up and just watched the game. And that was even better.
There were at least five Dodger hits that soared high towards the fences, prompting the crowd to cheer what was for sure going to be the winning home run, only to watch it get caught at the warning track.

Then Freddie Freeman did it – he crushed a homer that went over the fence – we went just as crazy as the 40,000 remaining fans, Randy Newman’s I Love LA started playing, and we knew that saying “What the heck” led to us having an incredible life experience. As we walked out of the stadium to what we knew would be a long drive home, we knew that we had done something unique and beyond special, and we felt so fortunate. Every now and then, saying “what the heck” turns an ordinary Monday into a story you’ll tell for the rest of your life.

And as much as we enjoyed it all, it was not at all a letdown to go back home at 2 AM, wake up the next morning, and get right back into our routines.

If this story made you smile, please share it with a friend — that’s how new readers find me. – Mike

Post #141 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I remember back 20-30 years ago, when my friends Jeff, Will, Rick and I would go up above Santa Barbara to bike the Solvang Century, we would bike 100k (so much more civilized than 100 miles), and I would gain 3-4 pounds on the trip. We would eat a massive dinner at the Far Western Tavern – those steaks grilled over a red oak fire were amazing – and we would even stop at a few wineries on the latter part of the ride. Again, it took me a week to lose the pounds I would gain on a bike trip.

And then there were the week long bike trips, biking 40-50 miles a day for 5-6 days, but eating like emperors and absolutely gaining weight. It confirms my belief about weight loss. Eating (or eating less) is everything. Exercise makes you healthier and stronger, but it has very little to do with weight loss.

Whenever I go to a Dodgers game, it’s so stressful getting there. Traffic is awful, and it’s hard to get there on time. But I figured out that it’s stressful because I’m trying to get some things done at home or work first, then drive to the game. This event taught me to just devote the whole day to the game. Embrace the traffic, embrace the hours, get there way early, and commit. Although buying the tickets was stressful, and getting out of the stadium took way too long, the rest of the day was actually quite enjoyable.

I wrote a post just over a year ago about the power of routines. I’m still a big fan.

Finally, thanks for all the positive feedback on my most recent post describing my mom’s battle with dementia. It has already become one of my most widely read posts, and I’m grateful that it helped some of you. Your comments certainly helped me.

Jill and I recently had dinner with two old friends — well, one of them is old (just kidding, Kevin!). For three decades now, our conversations have centered on our kids — their successes and struggles. But this time, the focus was on our parents. I would say that our parents are one of the hottest topics in all of my conversations with friends. One of our dinner realizations was that our parents did not deal as much with aging parents, because, well, because their parents most often died well before life’s cruelty imposed long-term limitations on them. In my case, three of my four grandparents died in their early 70s. So taking care of our parents is one of the few things that we did not learn by watching our own parents.

And now, our generation is learning by doing.

I’m blessed to have both of my parents still alive – my dad is 86 and my mom is 84. Though he has a variety of physical maladies, my father is still on fire intellectually. He’s reading like a madman, and ready to discuss a variety of books. I look forward to every conversation with him. He’s always ready to commend or criticize my most recent blog post, and I love it all. He has been a spectacular father to all of us, and if you asked all of us today, we would shout to the world that his presence, support, advice, and love continue to make us better and happier. He has a fantastic attitude, but he definitely believes in the quote often attributed to Bette Davis, “Old age ain’t no place for sissies.”

No, it’s not. I’m only 63, and the t-shirt that has been tempting me to purchase it simply reads, “Everything Hurts.” My dad listens to me complain and tells me, “It does not get better with age.” Maybe in a decade or two I’ll get a shirt that says, “Everything Hurts – Even More Than It Used To.”

But my mom, that’s a different story.

I wrote about her battle with dementia almost exactly two years ago. It was just five years ago when we really started getting worried. That’s when the occasional memory lapse turned into something that crossed the line from forgetfulness to something more serious.

Fast forward two years from my 2023 post.

I spent time with my mom several times during my most recent visit to Little Rock two weeks ago. There was nothing surprising about my visit, as I talk with my siblings often, but damn, it was still hard to see and experience. Here are a few observations.

My mom was always trim. Even though she didn’t exercise, she somehow always appeared to be in good physical condition. Why didn’t I get that gene? But now, she is truly a wisp of a human being. There’s not much meat on those bones. She barely has the strength to lift her head off of the back of her chair. She needs others to help her get in or out of bed or any chair. She spends her waking hours in a comfortable chair, seemingly unbothered by her frailty.

Her memory is almost all gone. She does not recognize her children any more. When she sees my sister Martha, who visits Mom more than any of us, she sometimes thinks that Martha is her mother. We think she has dreams of various portions of her life, and when she wakes up, she may think that she’s supposed to get ready for high school, or she could be waking up thinking she’s in another decade. Then the memory of the dream fades, and it’s just living in the moment. I think she believes me when I tell her that I’m her oldest son, and she feels something when I hold her hand and talk with her, but I don’t think the memory connects to anything solid. When she has a thought that she wants to share, she starts to speak it, then forgets what she was going to say, then she forgets that she even wanted to say anything.

Some good news – she has absolutely no anxiety. And believe me – Mom was always anxious about something. A decision (big or small) that needed to be made; trying to remember whether or not she turned off the stove; how to best help her children when they were going through a difficult time; what color of floor or wallpaper to get in the new remodel; and so much more. I remember her literally wringing her hands with worry so much of the time. And now, it all seems gone. She seems to accept where she is, she’s appreciative of her visitors and all the help that she gets, and she just seems . . . content.

I was talking about Mom with my awesome siblings this week. One of us said that the way she’s living now is a terrible way to end a spectacular life. We all agree. As I’ve wrestled with how much of her is still ‘here,’ I keep coming back to some questions I’ve never really asked before.

Reading Michael Singer’s The Untethered Soul has made me think about who we truly are. If we take away our reactions to the outside world, our emotions, our thoughts, and in my mom’s case, our memories, who are we? At her core, like all of us, my mom is the same person that she was at age 4, 14, 24, 44, 64, and now 84. Singer writes, “So now, if I ask you, “Who are you?” you answer, “I am the one who sees. From back in here somewhere, I look out, and I am aware of the events, thoughts, and emotions that pass before me.”

So who is that person in my mom’s case? Who is that person who sees from her current and quite limited vantage point? Without her memories – she is still kind, caring, and full of wonder. When she is not too tired, she enjoys hearing the stories her kids tell. The piano that she used to play with so much passion and beauty is long silent now, but when a Chopin melody drifts through her room, something in her still listens. She’s still quick to smile, and wants to laugh with us when we are laughing. Those are elements of who she has been her entire life, and it’s still evident today.

So I do believe that she’s still there, but damn, I miss the Mom I remember – the mom who guided me through all of my years and supported me every step of the way. The mom who taught me to cook and just 7 years ago was helping me with Thanksgiving dinner. The mom who loved her beautiful back yard and got so mad whenever squirrels would steal food from the bird feeders. The mom who made every child and grandchild feel loved and special.

I don’t have any answers. I hope that AI and modern medicine figure out how to protect my generation from this insidious disease. My heart goes out to the millions of people who are doing their best to support loved ones going through memory loss. I do my best to be grateful for every awake and aware moment that I have with loved ones, for every moment in this beautiful world, and for every opportunity to use a body and mind that allow me to have incredible experiences.

Two years ago, I wrote from heartbreak. Today, I still feel that sense of loss, but I’m striving to find peace and acceptance. Not because the disease is kinder, but because I’m doing the best I can to see my mom in spite of all she has lost. In my mom’s final years, I wish her peace and comfort — and I hope that somewhere deep inside, she knows that her love has left a beautiful legacy.

Post #140 on www.drmdmatthews.com

If you’re not on the mailing list, you’re missing out. Not only will I let you know when my blog posts come out, but you will get my once-a-month-subscribers-only message. I share what I’m cooking, what I’m watching, what I’m reading, and other news that had a profound impact on me. If you’re interested, please click here.

NOTES

You can find my November 11, 2023 post – the first one on my mom’s battle with dementia, here.

We feel very fortunate that Mom is living in a wonderful caring environment. It’s called House of Three, and there are several throughout Arkansas. They take up to three residents at a time, and they provide round the clock care, with meals, movement, hygiene, and basic medical assistance. They can call 911 if needed. They do their best to make sure residents don’t fall and that they take the medicines they are prescribed. Medicare services come to the house. And we feel that the good people who work there truly love our mom and the other residents.

Notes on the picture collage above, clockwise, starting from the top left:

Probably 1965 – My mom with me (right) and Pat (left).
1996 or 97 – Mom with Ryan and Sean
2006 – Mom with Ryan and Dawson in Tucson
2023 – Mom with Pat, Martha, and me
2022 – Mom and me
2016 – Mom with Ryan at Law School Graduation

Find a Door. Open It. Begin.

My youngest son, Dawson, has started interviewing for jobs. He finishes his masters in computer science in May, and both of us think it would be wonderful for him to leave with a job in hand. There are a gazillion different ways to use a computer science degree. Dawson just needs to decide where to begin.

If he’s like me, he’ll start with the first place that offers him a job. I’m not saying that’s the best advice, but it’s certainly what I did. History teaching jobs were hard to come by in 1985. I interviewed with dozens of public schools in California, Virginia, and Maryland. I interviewed with private schools and private boarding schools. And a week before the school year started, I got my first job offer in San Lorenzo, California. I practically leapt over the table to immediately sign the contract before they changed their minds.

Zig Ziglar said, “You don’t have to be great to start, but you do have to start to be great.” I love that. My San Lorenzo job ended up being better than I could ever imagined, but the best thing about it was that I got to start my career in public education.

So while I do hope that Dawson finds a job that best utilizes his skills and passion, and I hope that it’s a job he actually enjoys, I’m more excited about him starting the journey. Somewhere. Anywhere!

One of my favorite conversations to have is about people’s journeys that brought them to this place and time. In speaking with my friends, all of whom I regard as remarkable success stories, I have heard of seemingly random and often unexpected journeys. I have friends who started as shrimp boat deckhands, construction workers, gold miners, military (officer and enlisted), and so many other random beginnings, who have ended up as CEOs, marketing geniuses, artists, professors, authors, educational leaders, and more. Their journeys remind me that first jobs rarely predict final destinations.

One of my favorite simple life poems is Linda Ellis’s “The Dash,” which reflects on the dash between the years of birth and death on a tombstone. The poem ends,

So, when your eulogy is being read,
with your life’s actions to rehash…
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent YOUR dash?

And what about the career dash – the one between your first job and your last one? While the first job may be related to the last, it is just as likely to have nothing at all in common, other than being part of the journey.

I had set my sights on being a teacher when I started teaching in San Lorenzo. I had no aspirations to be a principal, and I didn’t even know what the heck a superintendent did. Thirty-seven years later, all of those jobs were part of the journey.

And Jill never dreamed that her entire career would be spent in the same district that she started in. She also had no inkling that she would do so many things beyond the middle school math teacher job she first took back in 1990. Now in her 36^th year, her journey has included being a middle school math teacher, a high school math teacher, a mentor teacher, an elementary school teacher, and an independent study teacher. She’s loved it all.

I just watched the amazing Led Zeppelin documentary, “Becoming Led Zeppelin.” None of those guys would have ever imagined the dash in their journeys, where they improbably met each other and became one of the greatest rock bands of all time. My favorite scene remains their opening concert, where they blasted their new songs to an unsuspecting audience of families, many with small children and babies. The pained and shocked look as audience members covered their ears probably did not give them confidence that they were on their way to greatness. Yet that’s where their journey, their dash, took them.

I love the dash in the careers of presidents like Abraham Lincoln and Harry S Truman. Both were born into modest families, worked hard, failed many times, and somehow rose to greatness and changed the world in doing so. Their dash was filled with hard work, kindness, common sense, and resiliency, and they used all of that to overcome the ups and downs of any journey.

Another Zig Ziglar quote: “It’s not where you start or even what happens to you along the way that’s important. What is important is that you persevere and never give up on yourself.”

So my advice to Dawson: Find that first job and start your journey. Listen to people and their stories about their journeys, and learn from them. Believe in yourself. And when opportunity knocks, at least open the door, listen, and give it serious consideration. And in every step of the journey, believe in yourself, enjoy and learn from your colleagues, and do the best job you can.

I can’t wait to see where your journey takes you.

Post #139 on www.drmdmatthews.com

Notes

This post took me WAY too long to write! My firsts drafts were . . . pretty darn boring, and almost read like a resume that is trying too hard to be interesting. For those of you interested in my cast aside stuff, (and I know you’re out there and I love you for it!), you can find my first draft here.

You can find Linda Ellis’s The Dash, in its entirety, here.

My next post will be about my visit home, and I’ll give you all an update on my mom’s battle with dementia, something I wrote about two years ago.

Photo courtesy of Craig Stanland’s LInkedin page. I had no idea you could post articles to LinkedIn. I’ll have to try that.

As I approach the one-year mark after my total knee replacement, I am full of gratitude. I thank the people in my life who encouraged me to do it. My good friend Charlie, a doctor, athlete, and blog reader, strongly encouraged me to not wait, so I could get back to living life fully. So many others did the same. I’m grateful to the team of medical professionals who made it happen and did their jobs so expertly – my doctor and all of his nurses and prep team, and my physical therapist and his team – you all crushed it. And I’ve said it before, thanks to my wife Jill for all of the support, especially in those first few weeks. It was a lot.

So where am I now?

I am far more mobile than I was before the surgery. No pain. No limp. Full range of motion. I’m enjoying walking, hiking, pickleball, and golf way more, and I feel like a new person.
The scar is visible, but way better than you would think.
I faithfully worked with a physical therapy office for seven months after the surgery, and it was an incredibly rewarding investment of time and money.

And life after physical therapy is my topic for this post.

I was at a birthday party for a friend last weekend. It was a great mix of people in the sixties and in their thirties – I love it when our kids enjoy the parties that the old people throw. And in a conversation with my friends John and Carolyn, talking about pickleball, knee surgeries, and rehab/physical therapy – such stereotypical topics for our age group – John said, “Life after 60 is all about rehab.” While it may sound a little depressing, John’s insight is actually full of wisdom and hope.

I remember being in the pre-op room before my knee replacement surgery. There were curtains separating me from other patients getting ready to go into surgery. Jill was still with me, and they were marking me up, sticking needles in me, and hooking up monitors to me. Then we heard the doctors talking rather loudly to the patient next to me. “OK. So we are doing this second surgery because you DID NOT DO YOUR REHAB, and the knee is not working. We will fix it again, but you have to do your rehab this time.”

Jill and I both wonder if that was a real patient, or if maybe doctors arrange that “conversation” with nobody, for the sole purpose of making sure the people on the other sides of the curtains, who they know are eavesdropping, are more committed than ever to their rehab programs. I picture them barely able to contain their laughter as the lecture the empty bed. Whether or not it was a real conversation, it had an impact.

Life after 60 is all about rehab.

My first four months of rehab were all about flexibility – getting my knee to flex as much as possible. That involved stretching at home, and it involved some horrible stretches from my physical therapist. I thought I was pushing myself at home, but my PT reminded me that I’m actually quite kind to myself, and sometimes, kindness is not what the body needs. And the last three months were all about getting stronger. Weight bearing and resistance activities to rebuild the muscles in my leg to improve my quality of life and to prevent future injuries.

I kept up the weekly appointments even after my insurance benefits ended. But $400 a month is real money, and I have been on my own since June. My word of the year for the last two years has been self-discipline.That’s what is needed to do the flexibility exercises and strength building exercises needed to keep me pain free and at my best.

My friend Merlin and I were commiserating recently on how much a difference 15 to 30 minutes of stretching makes in how we feel each day, and how, even though we know that, we skip it too often. I saw a t-shirt last week that simply said, “Everything Hurts.” When I faithfully stretch, some parts of me don’t hurt. Why the heck can’t I regularly do something that I know is so good for me?

I wish I had the self-discipline to make my self-discipline goal a daily reality.

When I was rehabbing my knee, I set aside two to three hours a day for stretching, walking up and down the halls and outside, and eventually, strength building. I had a motivational play list that began with the Gonna Fly Now, the theme from Rocky. I was all in. But now that I’m back to normal, finding that time is a little more difficult. Before, it was clearly mandatory. Now . . . it feels optional. But in reality, it is not at all optional.

Life after 60 is all about Rehab.

It’s almost like I have to convince my brain that if I don’t do the work every day, I’ll end up like that real or make-believe person next door to me in the pre-op room. I don’t want to have unnecessary pain in my life, and I certainly want to be the strongest and healthiest I can be for the next twenty years, if not longer.

Wish me luck.

(Your comments are always welcome! Scroll down to find the comment section.)

Post #138 on www.drmdmatthews.com

Notes

You can read my Word for 2025 Blog Post here

The only part of that I disagree with about this post is that the number 60 could be a little lower. I think it could go as low as 35. It was when I turned 35 that injuries took a little longer to heal, exercising without stretching often had bad outcomes, and weight was a little more difficult to lose. But at 60, it is a much starker truth.

If I had the dollars, here are the coaches I am would pay to have in my life:

Masters Swim Coach (and pool access) – I do this
Vocal Lessons – I am currently doing this, but there will be an end.
Golf Coach – On hold
Physical Trainer – It was great, but probably never again
Guitar Lessons – Learning by doing at this point

And I’ve written this before, but a big reason why I write these posts is to kick myself in the *** and remind myself to do what is best for me. I hope this helps a little.

Cover picture taken while hiking in Zion National Park this summer.

Medical team fake conversation picture created by ChatGPT.

In my next life, I’m going to do everything I can to be a rock star.

Well, not a rock star. I don’t think I have that in me. But I’d love to be a musician on the stage supporting a real rock star. I’d also be happy as a country musician, as a lot of country is closer to rock than most people think. I might even settle for being a roadie, so Jackson Browne could sing about me. But what I am really shooting for is being a musician on the stage and living the life.

This is something I have been saying for decades. Don’t get me wrong. I love my life. I feel, as Bon Jovi would say, like “I hijacked a rainbow and crashed into a pot of gold.” I worked fairly hard in high school and college, then spent a career in education serving students and parents, and loved it all. In so many ways, life has worked out for me beyond my wildest expectations.

But if I get the chance at this wonderful life again, I want to do something different. When Jill and I find a restaurant we like, and if we both order dishes we think are fantastic, here’s what happens when we go back. Jill orders the same thing again. Why change when it was so good last time? Me? I order something different for sure. I look forward to different tastes, different preparations, and a new experience.

That’s how it’s going to be in my next life. Let’s do something different. Instead of aiming to be a good student and being a leader in a gazillion high school activities, I’ll hole up in my room and try to be the best musician I can. There’s still plenty of fun to be had, but music will be the focus. I want to get those 10,000 hours under my belt before I leave high school, graduate, and see what happens.

Musicians struggle for years before they make it. In the A Complete Unknown, Bob Dylan is asked who he wants to be. I loved his answer: “I want to be a musician . . . who eats.” Watching the struggles of Billy Joel in the superb HBO documentary is inspiring. The artist’s struggle is a tale as old as time. If I get that opportunity in my next life, I hope I can be good enough to eat.

I dropped out of college for a short time to become a professional musician. If you define a professional musician as someone who makes a living playing music, then my time as a street musician singing and playing guitar on the streets of West Berlin surely count. Was I a musician who ate? Barely. But I paid rent, got free beers every night, and did manage to buy some food. I started my professional music career weighing 185 and finished it weighing 25 pounds less. As someone once told me, it was their time in Germany that let the Beatles know they were onto something big. It was my time there that let me know my future in music was . . . less bright.

Could I have done both? Could I have kept my career and been an accomplished musician? My amazing friend Tom, a blog reader and highly successful superintendent, did just that. He played his tenor sax in jazz clubs throughout his career. And upon his retirement, he opened his own jazz night club in Austin. I met another superintendent in New Orleans who carried his trumpet around Bourbon Street, and would sit in with three or four different bands at night. My friend Ben (a blog reader) has managed a highly successful career in school leadership, and also put out several albums with his country band, Truckstop. I’m blown away by that dual commitment.

Me? I didn’t think it could work. I was in a band while I was doing my student teaching. We would play at college parties and a few other places, and we were pretty good. But soon, I started spotting some of my high school students at the venues we were playing, and I winced when they would raise their red solo cup and yell out, “Mr. Matthews!!!!!” So, I quit. To me, the two were incompatible.

I sold my electric guitar and amp (I do regret selling my beautiful 1970s vintage Les Paul), and gave up on rock-n-roll. I’ve been playing my acoustic guitar for all of these years. I’ve gotten a little better, but I never put in the time to dramatically improve. Why couldn’t I have followed examples that were right in front of me? My friend Brooks, a blog reader who is now retired from several successful careers, has used his time to become quite accomplished on guitar. My cousin Al is doing the same thing. Me? I’ve made marginal improvements.

Fast forward to last Halloween. Halloween is huge in my neighborhood. We have hundreds of trick-or-treaters coming to our door, and dozens of friends coming by to visit. My friend Vince walked in to say hello, and, in passing, asked if I knew anybody who played guitar and sang, as they needed a rhythm guitarist in their band. I pulled out my acoustic guitar, and sang Tom Petty’s The Apartment Song right there in the living room. Vince said. “OK! Let’s try it.”

And now, I’m officially in a band. I bought a new Fender Telecaster – it’s a remake of their 1951 original and it’s beautiful – and a Fender amp, and I practice with Run Screaming every Sunday night. Our tag line is, “There’s a lot of great rock-n-roll that came out after we graduated from college.” We play mostly post-1990 rock-n-roll, and I love it. I’ve been part of three performances so far, and we will have more in the future.

We have some amazing musicians in the band – people who have gone way beyond 10,000 hours and have experience in the music industry. And then there’s me. I have a lot of work to do. My guitar playing needs to improve, and my singing has to get better. I can hit the notes, and I can harmonize with anything, but I need to work on my vocal tone. And as for my guitar playing, I aspire to a quote attributed to Beethoven: “To play a wrong note is insignificant. But to play without passion is inexcusable.” And maybe I can reduce that wrong note ratio.

I guess that’s what retirement can be: new beginnings and a chance to pursue dreams that we put aside. Maybe I don’t need to wait for my next life. I thought I gave up on this dream back in 1985, and I’m getting a chance to at least dabble and get a taste of it. I won’t become a faster swimmer in my 60s than I was when I was 18, but I believe I can become a better musician than I’ve ever been. Finally, and you’ve all heard me say this way too much, being a continuous learner and struggling to solve new problems is kind of the Hokey Pokey of brain health. That’s what it’s all about. And if we can have a great time while we are immersed in learning, it’s like a double Hokey Pokey.

I have no illusions of how good I can become. I remember a high school graduation ceremony where a student told a story of a person admiring a concert pianist, and saying to her, “I would give half my life to play as well as you.” To which the pianist responded, “Funny, that’s exactly what I did.” I did not give half my life to music, but with this new retirement opportunity, I’ve got a chance to improve that ratio. I know I can get better, and, more importantly, I will love the journey.

Post #137 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I’m enjoying hanging with the guys in Run Screaming. The band has been around since 2022, and I’m the newest member. They’ve been patient with me, and we are figuring out how I can build on the already great sound of the band. And the best sign is that our four-hour practices just fly by. It’s a total flow experience. So far so good. To see bios of the band members, and see/hear videos (all done before my arrival), click here. Information on how to hire us is right there!

I do mostly backup vocals, which is perfect, but every once in a while they give me a song where I sing lead vocals. Click here to see the last part of The Middle, performed last month here in Malibu.

My mind tells me that the reincarnation thing is a gamble. Though there are smart people who believe in it. Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian Weiss, M.D. tells of his belief, based on work with patients, that reincarnation is real and that we travel through time with the same group of souls, reuniting in each lifetime with loved ones, each time playing different roles. I love that idea. About one third of global citizens believe in reincarnation. Still, the life I’m living is a sure thing. I need to make the most of it, do the most good that I can, and keep it interesting.

I watched several Malibu High School students become professional musicians – jazz, rock, and even opera. All of them were more than bright enough to go to college and excel. And while some attended college, others did not, and they have all been successful and, I think, quite happy with their decision. I am proud and jealous of all of them, and I follow their careers with great interest.

I’ve written this before I think, but my biggest tip ever as a street musician came when I was playing in a very large West Berlin restaurant. I had a partner, and we would work out a deal with the restaurant manager where we would play for 20-30 minutes, then pass the hat for tips. After a particularly rousing version of Joy to the World (the “Jeremiah was a bullfrog” version), a man called me over and had a request. He said he would give us 20 marks (a huge tip!) to play on the other side of the restaurant. We moved right away!

Though I’ve been fortunate to have some amazing experiences in my life, you could never accuse me of living life in the fast lane. Unlike the Eagles, I guess I did not know the right people, take the right pills, throw outrageous parties, or pay heavenly bills. Oh well. As Joe Walsh would say, “Life’s been good to me so far.” In that same song, in one of music’s great lines, Walsh also said, “My Maserati does 185. I lost my license, now I don’t drive.”

I have been pulled over for speeding twice. In both instances, I was going far slower than 185 mph. Neither time resulted in a ticket, I never lost my license, and both law enforcement encounters are stories worth retelling.

The first time was back in 1994. I was driving from our home to Malibu High School, where I had to supervise a wrestling match. One of the great things about being a principal and living close to the school was that I could go home for dinner, spend a little time with my family, then head back to the high school for evening athletic events, arts events, or meetings with parents. This time, I piled my then four-year-old son Ryan into my 4-cylinder Ford Ranger pickup truck (#notaMaserati), and off we went. I drove the half mile stretch of Pacific Coast Highway to the school, turned left and as I was turning, I saw a Sheriff’s car screaming up PCH with his lights flashing. Imagine my surprise when he turned behind me and told me to pull over.

He walked up to me, and I had to turn down the cassette player. Ryan and I were singing along with Home on the Range as we had been puttering up the highway. The Sheriff asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?” I responded, “45? 46?” (The speed limit is 50) He goes. “No. You were going 97 miles per hour.” I said, as the music was still playing in the background, “Look at this truck. It’s four cylinders. And you can see that the speedometer only goes to 80! We’ve been traveling less than a minute on the highway, and we’re singing Home on the Range.” He started to get uncertain, and asked, “Well, where were you going in such a hurry?” I said, “We were not in a hurry (that’s when Ryan put his hand on my shoulder to get me to calm down), and I’m the principal of the high school, and we’re going to watch a wrestling match. He said, “Well . . . I like principals. Let me look at your record, and if you have no previous tickets, I’ll believe you this time.” My record was spotless, and he drove away. I wonder if it’s humanly possible to do anything fast while singing, “Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam . . . “

Fast forward 30 years for my next time to be pulled over for speeding. This time, I actually was driving in the fast lane. I was in Little Rock, Arkansas, driving on the freeway with my Dad. We had three lanes on the southbound side, and the speed limit was 65. I was going about 71, passing cars going at the speed limit, when a State Trooper pulled me over. I told my Dad, “Well, this is going to be my first ever speeding ticket.”

The officer walked up to my Dad’s side and looked in the window and asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?” I said that I knew I was going 70 or 71. He said, “Exactly.” I was ready for my fate. He then raised his voice and admonished me, saying, “Son, you were driving TOO SLOW in that passing lane. This isn’t a lane for SLOWLY passing other vehicles. If you’re going to go that slow, stay in the right lanes. There are people with guns out here, and they’ll stop at nothing to get a slow driver like you out of the way.” I glanced at my Dad, then said, “So . . . am I getting a speeding ticket?” He said he would be watching me, and I and better stay out of the way, or I would get a ticket of some kind. I simply replied, “I understand, sir.” And that was it.

After he drove off, I asked my Dad, “Did that really just happen?” Dad shook his head and it was the craziest thing he’d ever seen.

Though I may have had some poor speed-related decisions, and well, just some poor decisions, in my youth (What do you expect when the 1972 Monte Carlo you’re driving has a 402 cubic inch engine with a 4-barrel carburetor?), I am quite comfortable with my non-fast-lane life. My friend Craig, who may or may not have had his wilder days back in high school, and may have gone slightly above the speed limit in his Mazda RX-7, often says, “I’m just driving 35 in the right-hand lane…flashers on and hitting those little cuts in the concrete that wake you up!” That State Trooper would not approve, but I’m all good with that attitude.

I wrote down these stories because they still make me smile and shake my head, but I don’t even know if there’s a lesson to be gleaned from them. I think it’s healthy to sometimes be adventurous and crazy, I think that you can insert humor into almost anything. I think that every day is worth celebrating. And I think I can do all of that while mostly coloring within the lines.

Take from them what you will – but I always love a good story.

Post #136 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

Some people didn’t like that I drove that two-door not at all fancy manual transmission truck. They thought a principal should drive a fancier car. We got it for true bargain – my wife’s grandfather bought it the day after he was told he could no longer drive. It was a protest action that I admire, and we got to buy it from him.

After that, I drove a Nissan Maxima. Next was my favorite vehicle ever, my Honda Ridgeline pickup truck. Some of my truck-loving friends who actually read are rolling their eyes, and yelling, “IT’S NOT A TRUCK!” It was a super cool truck, and I sold it when it had 240,000 miles on it. The guy who bought from me it does a lot of construction work in Malibu – he has fixed it up and it makes me smile every time I see it. It may see the 500,000-mile mark.

I drive a really nice car now. My 2016 Honda Accord has been a spectacular and incredibly reliable car. I just passed 161,000 miles on it, and it’s running beautifully. It can go a lot faster than my 1988 Ford Ranger, but in general, I keep at (or just a little bit above) the speed limit.

Finally, early next year, we hope to hear Eagles sing Life in the Fast Lane and much more in The Sphere in Las Vegas. The Kenny Chesney Sphere concert was a highlight of our summer. Old Rockers Rule!

Photo created with ChatGPT.

Bless me, friends, for I have not posted a new piece in seven weeks. I have my excuses. Boy, do I have them. I had a big consulting job that got in the way. That’s why. I’ve been injured twice – bruised ribs and a sprained wrist – certainly that’s a good enough reason. I’ve been traveling, and there’s no way you can write while that’s happening. I got out of my rhythm, and I’m having a hard time getting back into it. Yep – I’ve got excellent excuses.

Benjamin Franklin understands. He said, “He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else.” Wait, maybe he doesn’t understand. Let’s fast forward 200 years – Aldous Huxley understands bravery in the face of all these new world pressures. He said, “Several excuses are always less convincing that one.” Wait. That doesn’t help either.

Fine, Ben. Fine, Aldous. No excuses. I just did not make it happen.

My thanks to many of you, most recently my friend Tom, who reached out and told me to get back to it. Another friend named Tom is too nice to criticize me publicly, but I know that he’s thinking I’m a jackass for taking such a long break. He’s not wrong. And I may be wrong about this, but I’m guessing there are many of you who were thinking, “Thank goodness he stopped writing. He was crushing my will to live every other week.”

So it is with gratitude and apologies that I say, “I’m back.”

Part of the motivation to return came from a book I’ve been reading about the pursuit of happiness. You know it’s a topic that fascinates me. I’m happy and optimistic by nature, but I don’t take it for granted. There’s enough suffering in the world to steal happiness from even the most optimistic of us. Some of that suffering cannot be ignored, but I’m hopeful that in the long run, our optimism and happiness can win out. My friend Craig called me this week and reminded me that today is a good day for a good day. He’s exactly right.

The book I’m reading is Arthur C. Brooks’ From Strength to Strength: Finding Success, Happiness, and Deep Purpose in the Second Half of Life. His main point – Don’t base your happiness, purpose, or any feelings of success on your job, your career, or any accomplishments you may have been recognized for. If you do, you are headed for a fall. And no matter how great we think we might have been in our career, once we leave or retire, people move on. Success, fame, or whatever you want to call it, is fleeting.

There are songs written about the dangers of living in the past. Bruce Springsteen’s Glory Days and Bowling for Soup’s 1985 come to mind. The remaining years of my life will involve neither speedballs nor Whitesnake’s car. We have to move on.

I held four different positions in my career –teacher, principal, human resources assistant superintendent, and superintendent. I loved them all. The longest I ever stayed in any one position was eleven years. For me, and Brooks concurs, the most exciting and meaningful years are the ones where my learning curve was the steepest.

I know that I am at my best when I have significant learning curves in my life.

If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to keep using my career expertise as an educational and leadership consultant. I’m enjoying that tremendously. I don’t think I will be as lucky as my father, who even at age 86, is still practicing law. He says that he’s done now, but I’m not sure I believe him. I’ll do it for as long as people find my services to be useful, and I look forward to it.

Pickleball and golf have plenty of learning in them, and even more other positives – physical fitness, social interactions, and a lot more thinking and strategy than one would think. But it’s writing where I feel the steepness of the learning curve the most: the discipline and moderate stress of a self-imposed every two-week deadline, the creativity and newly acquired knowledge that it takes to stay fresh, the endless push to revise and edit, the courage required to press that “Publish” button, the use of AI, the community of old and new friends who read and stay in touch through the blog posts, and maintaining a website that makes it all work. It is a wonderful new curve in the second half of my life.

I’ve recently added another new learning curve/hobby to my life that I hope to write about soon, but as Derek Zoolander said when asked about his new male modeling look, Magnum, “I shouldn’t even be talking about that yet.” More about that in a future blog post.

So yes, I’m back, and I look forward to what’s next.

Have a good day, y’all.

Post #135 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I’ve had too many injuries this summer. One was totally my fault. Actually, I blame the Zion National Park naturalist who pointed out six California Condors, the birds that barely avoided extinction, soaring with their 10-foot wingspans against the red cliffs of Zion. How could I help but look up? Though I should have done what Jill did. She stopped her e-bike before admiring the amazing birds. I didn’t, and hit a curb while gazing upwards, landing pretty hard on on the left side of my back and bruising a few ribs. That was 7 weeks ago, and the pain is almost gone! What an idiot. As my friend Ben said, “You definitely have the falloffabikealotusdisease.” I need to follow my own advice about paying attention, which I wrote about two years ago after a bike crash that should have been much worse. You can find it here.

Then last Saturday, I sprained my wrist when I hit an awkward backhand return of a lob shot. I heard a click. I self-diagnosed the sprain, with the assistance of ChatGPT. But I did go to Malibu Urgent Care (I love Malibu Urgent Care!. I have lots of experience there and I have nothing but good things to say) after the swelling increased the next day. They X-rayed and found no fractures. Good news, but I’m in a splint and I don’t see myself being back to 100% for a few weeks. This one was not my fault, except that people who play pickleball do find ways to injure themselves. As my sensitive friend Peter texted, “A 60-year-old dude with a pickleball injury? Huh, hardly ever hear about that happening.” Thanks, Peter. You always know the right thing to say.

On a more somber note, I also wrote that sometimes the suffering cannot be ignored. July 31 is always a tough day for me. My 4-year-old son Sean died 28 years ago, on July 31, 1997. His mother, his brother, his Godfather and I all feel his loss even more acutely this time of year. We all communicated, remembered, and shared kind words about our boy and our family. It was cathartic and powerful, and we go on doing the best we can. I wrote about this back in 2022, and it is my most read post ever. We all have pain and suffering in our lives, and I wish solace and strength to all of you who are dealing with it at this time in your life. As they say in the Compassionate Friends group, “You are not alone.”

You can find Strength to Strength: Finding Success, Happiness, and Deep Purpose in the Second Half of Life here.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT

Summer officially begins on Friday, June 20 at 7:42 PM PDT. Kind of odd to have summer start in the evening, right? But astronomers don’t give a hoot about Pacific Daylight Time. All they care about are the facts – as seen from Earth, the Sun will be directly over the 23.5-degree latitude line – The Tropic of Cancer – and at 7:42 PM PDT, the Sun will never venture any more northward, and we begin our six-month march towards summer in the southern hemisphere.

That’s why our days are so long now. I know when the tiniest shard of daylight starts seeping through our bedroom windows. How do I know? Because our Scottish Terriers, Duffy and Maggie Mae, sense the impending sunrise, and start scratching, sneezing, shaking, and whining just before that first light eeks in. I think they can smell it. Their whimperings are ever so soft at first, but it’s eventually more than enough for my light sleeping self to know that it’s time for me to get out of bed. These days, that light seems to come in before the clock hits 5 AM. Ouch. As much as I love our dogs . . .

Of course, my alarm used to be set for 4:30 AM every day, and I was out the door on the way to a very uncivilized 5:30 swim workout. That was just two years ago. How quickly our bodies adjust. Now, my workout starts at 12 noon. It’s sunny and quite lovely. Jill commented the other day that I was getting pretty tan, and I told her it was the noon swimming. She asked if I was wearing sunscreen, and I broke it to her that there was no need, as I was swimming face down in the pool most of the time. That’s when she broke it to me that there’s an incredible amount of UV-ray reflection coming off the bottom of the pool. Who knew! But just to confirm, I did ask C-Bot, my ChatGPT assistant, who said, “Yes, absolutely wear sunscreen while swimming laps at noon in an outdoor pool. Here’s why: ☀️ UV Rays Don’t Care That You’re Wet.” The Sun emoji was a nice touch. But the bold print made it seem like C-Bot was yelling at me. So now I wear sunscreen, but I’m still pretty tan.

Summer is the best.

Jill finished her 35^th year of teaching on Thursday, and she is looking forward to nine luxurious weeks of enjoying summer. But just so you all know, about seven weeks into summer, she will start getting excited about her 36^th year of teaching, and she will start working to be completely ready when her students return. Pretty cool to love your job that much.

We have no big trips planned for this summer. We have two short trips scheduled, one to Utah (Zion National Park) and Las Vegas, and a camping trip with family and friends to beautiful Reedley, California. The rest of the time we will be at home, and that’s just fine with me!

Here are some summer activities I am looking forward to:

As much outdoor cooking and dining as possible. My favorite things to make outside with my gas grill, my charcoal-fired Big Green Egg, and my still relatively new propane-fueled Blackstone Griddle include pulled pork, brisket, smash burgers, fried rice, smoked chicken, hot links, black bean burgers, Asian noodles, blackened salmon, and anything else we can think of.
As much pickleball and golf as possible. I’d love to do both twice a week.
The sounds of our neighborhood. Jill has said that during the summer, our neighborhood sounds like a campground. Our houses are pretty close together. We can hear the sounds of children playing and music piping sounds of summer into nearby backyards, lawns being mowed, kids playing in the street – it is all a stupendous summer symphony.
The Pacific Ocean gets a little warmer, and once it hits 65 degrees, I’ll actually get in and play. It’s been as high as 64 already, but this week it’s hovering around 62. I grew up swimming in warm, and in the late summer – too warm, Arkansas lakes, and I’ve never gotten used to being cold in the ocean. I’m OK with that, but I do get mocked by a few friends. Maybe by mid-July.
Listening to music, and maybe even playing a little music.

And on that note, here are some song lyrics that embody the feelings of summer – I hope you enjoy.

“It’s a smile, it’s a kiss, it’s a sip of wine…it’s summertime!” – Kenny Chesney
“Summertime, and the living is easy.” – Ella Fitzgerald
“Those summer nights” – John Travolta and Olivia Newton John
“I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand, Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand, Life is good today.” – Zac Brown Band
“We’re waxing down our surfboards, We can’t wait for June.” – Beach Boys
“Oh when I look back now, That summer seemed to last forever. And if I had my choice, Yeah, I’d always wanna be there. Those were the best days of my life.” – Bryan Adams
“Workin’ on our night moves, Trying’ to make some front-page drive-in news. Practicing our night moves, in the summertime, In the sweet summertime summertime” – Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band
“Summer breeze makes me feel fine.” – Seals & Crofts
“When I think about those summer nights; Singing out the window, on the back roads, Sweet Child of Mine; Sipping on the local’s spark of light; Ain’t it funny how the best days of my life, Was all that wasted time, All that wasted time.” – Keith Urban

Let’s all have a fantastic summer!

Post #134 on www.drmdmatthews.com

If you’re not on the mailing list, you’re missing out. Not only will I let you know when my blog posts come out, but you will get my once-a-month-subscribers-only message. I share what I’m cooking, what I’m watching, what I’m reading, and other news that had a profound impact on me. If you’re interested, please click here.

NOTES

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

Remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)
First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.

One of my favorite recent songs is Eric Church’s Springsteen, where he recalls high school memories that come up whenever he hears certain Bruce Springsteen songs. As I write this, I think I’ve shared this song in a previous post. The best line of all is, “Sometimes a melody, sounds like a memory, like soundtrack on a July, Saturday night . . . Springsteen. If you haven’t heard it, here’s the video. And how many melodies do you know that sound like a memory? I have so many.

Any summer songs or melodies you would add to my list?

I like the late sunsets, but I would gladly trade a little of that pre-5-AM-light for longer evenings. I guess life doesn’t work that way.

And just to push back on the astronomers out there, summer really starts the day school gets out. It’s an awesome time to be a student (and a teacher).

One of the greatest things about being a teacher or a student is that when a school year ends, you get a true chance to make the next year a little better or a lot better. You start with a clean slate, a new group of students, and you get to the opportunity to do a little bit better than last year. I love that. I got to be part of that for four decades, and I feel very fortunate. Not everyone gets to experience that annual fresh start opportunity for so many years.

Finally, Happy Father’s Day to all of the dads out there. To my Dad, to my Father-in-Law, to my nephew Michael (and his wife Emily) who just became a father with twins yesterday, and to all of the spectacular dads I know. Back to my nephews . . . Twins. How wonderful and how terrifying! Here’s my Father’s Day post from last year if you are interested.

One of my favorite stories to read to my children was Frederick, by Leo Leonni. It’s a super simple story with great illustrations about a family of field mice preparing for the winter. All of them work their long tails off collecting food for the winter, except Frederick. All he does is stare out into space. When they asked Frederick why he wasn’t working, he said, “I do work. I gather sun rays for cold dark winter days.” A few days later, exasperated, his family again asked why he wasn’t working, and he responded, “I gather colors. For winter is gray.”

The story morphs into winter, and all of the stored food is gone, and the weather is gray and cold. And the mice find themselves nourished by Frederick, whose messages of spring time, color, and hope sustain them in the darkest times.

I love it.

We need messengers like Frederick in our lives.

If you are on my mailing list, you remember that I recommended Andor, the Disney Plus series that is part of the Star Wars saga – it’s right before Rogue One, which is right before the first ever movie in the series – Star Wars IV – A New Hope. And if you decide to watch them for the first time, do so in reverse order, Star Wars IV, then Rogue One, then Andor. It’s worth it.

Cassian Andor is the hero of both Andor and Rogue One. He’s a hero who comes from nothing, and spends his whole life somehow being in situations where he emerges as a hero – a catalyst in helping good people and stopping evil ones. He’s not looking to be a hero, but he does love and care about people, and he has a knack for being in difficult situations at the right time.

One time, when he is physically injured and just plain worn down, his friend convinces him to see a “healer.” And he is quite skeptical. He’s not a believer in anything bigger or grander than what we can see in front of us. But he goes and has a brief interaction with the healer. His physical ailments are better the next day, but that’s not why I am retelling the story. She asks him how he is doing, and he says, “I sense the weight of things, things I can’t see. Pain, fear … need.”

This strikes the healer, and she also is powerful enough to sense Cassian’s aura/meaning/purpose, and all of that inspires the healer to once again believe in a brighter future. As she tells Cassian’s friend,

“Most beings carry the things that shaped them.
They carry the past.
But some … very few … They’re gathering as they go.
There’s a purpose to it.
He’s a messenger.
There’s some place he needs to be.”

I love that concept.

I think we can all be gatherers and messengers like Frederick and Cassian Andor. And I believe that all of us can have purpose in that role.

I have been shaped, I carry joy and pain from the past, and I have been gathering for 63 years. And there is purpose to it. Here are some thoughts on that gathering and that purpose:

I have spent my life trying to be around people who are loving and caring, who feel the pain of others and try to make it better. They are the ones that I want to gather and learn from.
When I was at my lowest point in my life, it was the kindness of others, whether that kindness was directed at me or at others I didn’t even know, that gave me strength to carry on.
I have spent my life avoiding people who are angry and afraid. That is hard to do these days, but it is easily worth the effort.
All of us who are parents know what it means to be a messenger. Raising a child who is kind, loving, and caring is purpose in itself.
People ask me all the time why I write these posts every other week. It’s hard to answer. It’s not the money, that’s for sure. But maybe it’s the idea of being a messenger and sharing my gathering journey. It’s about finding like souls during my journey, souls who appreciate what I’ve learned, what makes me laugh and cry, and what makes me pause with wonder. And it’s about hearing back from so many of you about your gathering and your messages.
All of this makes me realize how important it is to look for messengers of hope and truth. I can point to so many of my friends who play that role for me. I look to artists. Bruce Springsteen, one of our president’s newest enemies, recently said, “One of the artist’s jobs is to make sense of existence and to make sense of the current times that you live in, and to contextualize those times.”

If we can’t be a messenger like The Boss, Frederick, or Cassian, we should try to be around people like them. When the loudest voices spew hatred and anger, seek out the powerful voices that speak the truth and inspire love, hope, and kindness. And if you are able, be that voice. It does not need to be loud. Even if we are as quiet as a field mouse as we speak the truth, it makes a difference.

Post #133 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

Remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)
First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.

Yes, this is a Star Wars geeky post. I know. But Star Wars is so good. It’s good vs. evil. It’s science fiction and storytelling at its best. And I’m a card-carrying fan. I remember being stunned after coming out of the theater after watching the first Star Wars movie in 1977 – my freshman year in high school. Between that, Saturday Night Live, Steve Martin, and Boston’s first album, I had enough to talk about to impress all the girls at parties. Strangely, none of those conversational techniques worked. Oh well.

Star Wars quotes that are often repeated in our house:

These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.
That’s no moon.
I am your father.
Do, or do not. There is no try.
This is how liberty dies. To thunderous applause.

And finally, a speech from Andor, from Senator Mothma, who later leads the Rebellion. It is her final speech as a senator, and it is echoed forever throughout the Star Wars universe:

I believe we are in crisis. The distance between what is said and what is known to be true has become an abyss. Of all the things at risk, the loss of an objective reality is perhaps the most dangerous. The death of truth is the ultimate victory of evil. When truth leaves us, when we let it slip away, when it is ripped from our hands, we become vulnerable to the appetite of whatever screams at us the loudest.
– Mon Motha, Andor

Well, I said I wouldn’t cry during Dawson’s graduation. Actually, I said I probably wouldn’t. And . . . I totally failed. Oh well. I loved it all.

He did it. Cheered on in-person by his mom and dad, his brother and sister-in-law, and his wonderful girlfriend, while his grandparents watched online and cheered from afar, he graduated.

We all ended up loving the college he chose – Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado. It’s a school of hard-working STEM nerds who love the outdoor beauty of Colorado almost as much as they love the inside of a dynamite or physics laboratory, an intricate math or physics problem, or seeking the most elegant coding solution for a complex set of tasks. It’s nestled between the mountains and the old mining town of Golden, Colorado. Famous for being the home of Coors beer, it remains the only place in the world that brews and bottles Coors Banquet Beer. It’s a small town with one main street, where most of the restaurants and bars close by 9 PM. Jill and I love everything about it. Our favorite part of it is Clear Creek, the mountain water stream that flows through the entire town. People swim in it, fish in it. paddleboard and kayak in it, and our favorite, walk along the “Peaks to Plains” trail that follows the creek into the mountains.

If you go to Mines, you are an Oredigger and a helluva engineer. Their fight song says “helluva” 1,347 times, and refers to whiskey drinking as well. Blaster the dynamite-wielding burro is their mascot. It’s a different place for STEM-loving students who want to be the ones who build whatever it is that is going to change the world.

Like all well done graduation ceremonies, there were parts of it that were uniquely Mines.

Students could wear traditional graduation caps or special western hats.
The diploma is plated in silver
The president gave a Blaster plush toy to all who spoke or helped in the graduation. Ryan was quite impressed by the “Bucket-O-Blasters” he used to constantly replenish his supply.
When the president asked the graduates to turn around and thank their parents, he asked them to turn π radians. They all knew what to do.
The president touted the school’s excellence in sports and assorted competitions, and gloated, “We love it when the nerds win.”
One person stated, “Mines is tough to get into, and it’s even tougher to get out.” The students wear that toughness and grit as a badge of honor.

So what made me emotional at a college graduation?

Seeing Dawson march down with his fellow amazing students
Hearing one of the student graduation speakers greet her fellow graduates and say, “Here we are, finally and all too soon.”
Hearing that same speaker (you can tell that I enjoyed Tobin Houchin’s speech) say, “You worked, you cried, you created, you failed, you connected, you stumbled, and you flew.”
Mines’ charismatic President Johnson asking the mothers in the audience to stand, and having the graduates once again turn around π radians to give them a heartfelt Mother’s Day thank you for everything. I’m all for any moment where moms get a fraction of the love and appreciation they deserve.
And most of all, I was overwhelmed by having our entire family together as we celebrated Dawson’s graduation, enjoying every minute of the rare family time, and cheering our youngest on to whatever is next.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the uncertainty in the job market. Dawson plans to earn his masters degree and enter the job market this time next year. In spite of all the challenges in our fast-changing world, I remain highly optimistic on his chances of landing a job he loves. Or landing a job that eventually leads him to a job he loves. As he invests his energy in that job search over the course of the next year, I hope that he gains strength from this weekend.

One of my core beliefs is that we can do almost anything if we know we are loved and supported by our family and friends. It doesn’t mean we won’t fail or stumble, but if are persistent in our efforts, and we know we are buoyed by our loved ones, we can eventually fly. As Ted Lasso would say . . . BELIEVE.

Post #132 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

And remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)
First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
My posts are long enough, so believe it or not, I do try to limit them. Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the moms who read these posts. Thank you for your love and patience, and I hope you are loved, honored, and pampered in the ways that you so richly deserve.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, who can no longer read these columns. Her memory issues continue to eat away at her mind and her body, but when I visited her last month, I could still feel her unconditional love.

If you want to read a touching, funny, and real mother’s day column, read Chris Erskine’s post from yesterday. Spectacular.

The Coors Beer factory has been in Golden Colorado since 1873. They produce the equivalent of 7 billion (7,000,000,000) bottles of beer each year, and they produce all of the Coors banquet beer in the world. It is a massive facility. I’ve yet to go on a tour, but I will go next year. When I was growing up in Arkansas, where Coors was not sold, getting your hand on a Coors beer was a special moment. By the way, we pronounce it “Curz.” Friends and family would return from ski trips to Colorado with cases of Coors. Since 1991, you’ve been able to buy it in Arkansas and other states east of Colorado. But there’s still no In-n-Out there.

If you ever visit Golden, Colorado, here are some of the places we love.

Clear Creek Trail – I mentioned it above. They continue to expand it into the mountains. It is a wonderful walk or run, and it’s great people watching.
The Golden Hotel – We stay here every time. Western in its interior feel, monolithic in its architecture, it has great service, comfortable rooms, and it’s located right on Washington Avenue, the main street in town.
The Golden Mill – We love this place. It’s a two-story indoor-outdoor beer garden overlooking Clear Creek. You get a special card and you pour your own drink, choosing from 50 beer taps, a few wine taps, and a few cocktail taps. They even have some non-alcoholic beer taps, something that I hope to see more and more of in bars and restaurants. They were pouring Athletic brand NA beers, something that is always in my refrigerator. They have three different food stations, and it’s just a great hang.
Vi tal Outdoors – An outdoor clothing company. I do too much of my shopping online, so when I have the time and I can find a place that is welcoming and embraces the culture of its town, I’m all in. I have my share of flannel shirts and tech pants from this place.
The Windy Saddle – I start almost every morning in Golden with a latte from the Windy Saddle. The name sounds like a tribute to Blazing Saddles, but it’s named for nearby Windy Saddle Park. Great coffee, warm pastries in the morning, and an extensive menu. Don’t be in a hurry, and embrace the wait.
Woody’s Pizza and Watering Hole– They have no Michelin stars, but it is the most recommended restaurant in Golden. Attentive wait staff with a solid sense of humor, special late night deals (9:00) for college students, a salad bar (you don’t see those much anymore, do you?), good pizza, cold beer, and a line waiting to get in. It was our last lunch in Golden on this trip, and I enjoyed the experience.

If there’s one way to guarantee low blog post readership, it’s to make it about golf. I can already hear my dad and my mother-in-law sighing as they read that first line. I have disappointed both of them. Again. You’d think they would be used to it by now. And yet, they still love me.

But onwards! Let’s talk about life lessons learned from last week’s Masters golf tournament, particularly with Rory McIlroy finally winning the Masters golf tournament, probably the highly renown golf tournament in the world. With a few exceptions, it’s a tournament only the best of the best have won. Jack Nicklaus won it six times. Tiger Woods five times.

Rory should have won it at least once by now. Maybe several times. He’s been trying for eighteen years, and for the past fifteen years, he has been one of the best golfers on the planet. This post is not how to become a better golfer. Those of you who have played golf with me know that I’m not the person to give that advice. It’s about how to overcome all the things our mind does to keep us from being our best.

Almost every professional golfer these days, and most aspiring golfers, have a mental coach to help them succeed. If you’ve made it to the PGA tour, you have the golf skills to win. But to actually win, your mind has to be in the right place. That’s why Rory brought in Dr. Bob Rotella, one of the most famous mental coaches of all time. Rotella’s 1995 book, Golf is Not a Game of Perfect, remains one of the most famous mental guides, and I believe it applies to far more than golf.

Rory, one of the top two golfers on the planet right now, made time to talk with Dr. Bob every day before and after his round. He had little notes written in his yardage book that he re-read every two holes or so. And he needed all of it. Never has a golfer made as many double bogeys (that’s a bad score for a professional golfer) and still won the Masters. The whole world cringed as Rory was cruising to victory with a four-shot lead, then inexplicably hit his ball into the course’s famous creek, and ended up trailing as he reached the final holes. In the end, Rory prevailed. Tiger Woods and Jack Nicklaus made it seem easy, but for most mere mortals, winning is hard.

So what did Dr. Bob Rotella say to Rory that not only helped him, but might help all of us?

“Love the challenge.” That’s how he signs all of his books. Golf is hard, life is hard, success is hard, relationships are hard, parenting is hard . . . you get the picture. If we don’t embrace the challenge, the challenge has the power to utterly destroy us.

“It never happens the way we dream it up.” We all have plans for our success, but it is more important that we are able to adjust when obstacles inevitably arise. Rory did not plan on hitting that terrible shot into the water. Mike Tyson said, “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Plans need to be constantly adjusted. The goal can remain the same, but it’s not a straight line as we strive to get there.

Mistakes happen. Do not judge yourself. Move on. Bob Rotella says, “You have to forgive and forget and be compassionate toward yourself.” You should see the things that golfers say out loud about themselves on the golf course. The names they call themselves. In Rotella’s book, he cites Mark Twain, who said, “The inability to forget is infinitely more devastating than the inability to remember.” And maybe Ted Lasso said it best: “Be a goldfish.” Why? It’s the happiest animal on the planet, because it has a ten second memory. I think Dori in Finding Nemo may have had just a five-second memory. She may have been even happier. In other words, move on from your mistakes.

And maybe my favorite quote, though Rotella is certainly not the first to say it: “None of us are going to get out of here alive. You might as well have some fun while you’re here.” We can all have goals, we can all aspire to be great, but we need to do our best to enjoy the ride, or at the very least, take moments where we enjoy the ride.

I don’t know what notes Rory wrote in his yardage book, but these are the types of notes I try to write in my calendar and on my to do list every day.

So congratulations to Rory McIlroy, and thank you for showing us how badly you can mess up and still end up winning. Thank you for having the humility to know that you cannot do it by yourself. And let his victory, and Dr. Bob Rotella’s wisdom, inspire all of us, not to play better golf, but to embrace our humanity and all the failures that come with it, to keep trying to reach for whatever brass ring we seek, and to enjoy ourselves along the way.

Post #131 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
My posts are long enough, so believe it or not, I do try to limit them. Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.
And remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)

Many of you know that my saying for each day is John Wooden’s, “Make each day a masterpiece.” It’s kind of the opposite of Rotella’s title, Golf is Not a Game of Perfect. I’m ok with that. Striving for being as perfect as possible is the goal, but accepting it when you inevitably fall short is the key to happiness, and according to Rotella, actually makes you better.

The Yardage Book I mentioned is something that every golf pro carries in his back pocket. It contains a map of each hole, yardages from various points on the hold to the pin, and aiming points. And it’s made better by notes the caddie and the golfer write in it. Those notes could be lessons learned from previous times playing the course, or motivational notes like the ones Rory included from Rotella. I love that even the most talented people in the world need notes to remind them how to be their best. My friend Larry speaks about a “breath prayer” that can be repeated while slowing down and taking a deep breath. Brief meditational moments may provide that. Notes in a calendar that you look at frequently. It can help all of us.

The shot that Rory hit into the water was not a hard shot. It is a shot that I could have hit well 7 out of 10 times. And I’m not very good. But let’s be clear, when I play golf, no one is watching. If I were in Rory’s situation, with tens of thousands of people surrounding me, and millions watching on TV, and my career legacy on the line, there is no way in hell I could have hit that shot. I would have been lucky to hit the ball with my club. The pressure that the world’s best golfers and performers of all kinds handle is amazing.

About pressure, Bob Rotella said that failure under pressure comes when a person “lets anger, doubt, fear, or some other extraneous factor” affect them before the shot. It’s like mountain biking. Don’t look where you don’t want to go. Look only where you want to go. In golf, if you say to yourself, “Don’t hit in the water,” your brain does not hear the word, “Don’t.”

Mental coaches reached mainstream culture partially because of the outstanding movie, Tin Cup, featuring Kevin Costner, Cheech Marin, and Rene Russo. Great movie to watch or rewatch, whether or not you love golf.

So much of life is not letting negativity from your current situation, from yourself, and from others bring you down. We all face those challenges, and some days are far more difficult than others. And how we stay positive, and fight off that negativity, is all up to us.

I don’t know if I recommend Rotella’s book for non-golfers, but it is a classic. You can purchase it here.

Image from ChatGPT.

Examining my fears as our child enters this unique job market

You never stop being a parent. My dad still worries about me, tells me to be careful on long trips, and generally tells me to do my best not to be an idiot. I’ve made it 63 years in spite of, or perhaps because of, his worrying.

I still worry about my sons. Ryan is 34, highly successful, and happy. He is a hard-working attorney and enjoys his job. Dawson is 22, and next month, he graduates with high honors from Colorado School of Mines with a major in computer science. Dawson has thrived in the major – it’s everything he hoped it would be. He’s taken daunting high level math and physics classes, received a certificate from the US Department of Defense in Cyber Security, and has earned high grades at a school that is known for not giving high grades. He will be in school for one more year to earn his master’s degree, and then he’s off.

But off to what?

When Dawson entered college way back in 2021, companies were throwing money at computer science majors. Colleges saw students flocking to computer science as a result. ChatGPT tells me that 5.9% of the class of 2025 are majoring in computer science, so there are a lot of people coming out of school ready to program, network, prompt, protect, or whatever else it is that computer science majors will be asked to do.

But a funny thing happened on the way to graduation – AI was thrown into warp speed with the advent of Chat GPT, DeepSeek, HAL, and all of the other extremely powerful AI engines. These engines can do so much, including creating images for super cool blog sites, and can even assist in writing complex computer programs. On top of that, there has been a significant reduction in employment in the tech sector. In 2024, technology companies eliminated nearly 300,000 positions, the majority of which were in the United States. Why? Economic uncertainty, AI, inflation, overhiring during the pandemic, and a lot of right-sizing after a period of massive expansion.

There’s no such thing as a sure thing – what seemed like a can’t-miss major in 2021 is no longer a certainty for gainful employment.

And it doesn’t help that Dawson is graduating at a time when the nation’s largest employer, the US federal government, is randomly throwing tens of thousands of highly skilled employees out into the job market.

Dawson believes strongly that his computer science skills will serve him well in the job market. And I have learned over time that this kid is not to be underestimated, and that he is almost always right. And he understands his skill set far better than I ever will. And yet, I worry.

And beyond my family, I worry for this entire generation of youth entering the workforce over the next few decades. The very idea of work is being thrown into question by artificial intelligence. While there are many who believe AI will bring incredible benefits to all of human society, I believe the transition will be difficult. A conservative estimate is that AI will replace almost 300,000,000 jobs by 2050. That’s a big number. This is the next big shift – Hunter/Gatherer Age – Agricultural Age – Industrial Age – Information Age – AI Age. I don’t think the AI age will affect my semi-retired life, though I do plan to do my best to keep my head out of the sand, keep learning, and keep up. But it will impact my sons.

In 1800, 95% of Americans lived on farms, and only 5% lived in urban areas. Today – about 2% of Americans live on farms. We have made big transitions before. Parents have worried about their children and all of these changes for a long time, so I should just relax and kick back, believing that it will all just work out. Right? Except that I can’t. You never stop being a parent, and we all want our kids to get the chances they need to find their way.

The purpose of a high quality education is to prepare students for . . . whatever the future brings. I had no idea that my future would take me from teaching in the Bay Area, to principaling in Lodi, California, to principaling, earning a doctorate, and superintendenting in Southern California. (Sorry for the made up verbs.) I think that Ryan’s career will have twists and turns, and that’s certainly true for Dawson. And though I worry, I believe that their upbringing and their education, and their commitment to hard work, will help them manage all of that, hopefully with a minimum of hardship.

I totally believe that.

Absolutely.

But what if that doesn’t happen?

Will they be OK?

I was talking about this fear with my friend Dawnalyn. Always one with wise words, she said that this is one more example of parenting being a lesson in humility for all educators. We spend our careers telling parents that it will work out, that kids are resilient, that a change of teacher will be fine, that a B grade is not the end of the world, that they will get into a quality college and/or career, that everything will work out. We firmly believe it, and we’ve seen countless examples of just that. Then . . . we have our own kids, and we ask ourselves those same questions about our children’s future . . . and we do our best to remember what we told the parents of the students we taught.

Parenting is hard.

We have to maintain the belief that humans matter, and even with all of the changes caused by AI over the next few decades, we will be OK, and all of our sons and daughters will be OK.

Maybe I need to rely on the words of Ted Lasso, and his firm belief in Rom-Com-Unism. “… It will all work out. It may not work out how you think it will or how you hope it does. But believe me, it will all work out . . .”

Sure, Ted. That’s what I want for my kids. Nothing more. Nothing less.

If you see me muttering around the neighborhood, here’s what I’m saying: Believe what you have been telling parents for decades, and stop worrying, Mike. Society and the economy will successfully adapt. Believe in your children. Believe in the future. It will all work out. Repeat.

Post #130 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
My posts are long enough, so believe it or not, I do try to limit them. Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.
And remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)

My son Ryan is one of my regular reviewers before I put out a piece. He liked it, and he thought it was quite optimistic. I told him I was going for a blend of worry with a belief that like it has for generations in the past, this will somehow work out for our children. I asked him if he was optimistic about our social and economic future, and he replied, “If I had to place a bet, I’d place it on a massive economic collapse leading into an era of autocratic techno-oligarchy and effective serfdom for the 99 percent. But hey! You never know!” That’s not very optimistic at all.

All of this worry about my kids entering their working lives during this AI revolution reminds me of how I felt when I went through difficult times at work. In most cases, my head knew things would work out. But my body, especially in my stomach, where I feel nervousness most acutely, would never listen to my head. So I had to overcome physical feelings of worry, none of which helped me to manage those difficult times. My head was usually right.

You don’t have to be a parent to be a great teacher, but it sure makes you more understanding. Watching my oldest (I won’t mention Ryan’s name) head off for each high school day late for school and with no homework in hand, armed only with a single sheet of paper and a pencil, gave me all I needed to better understand when parents were unable to coax their children into doing what was best for themselves in school. As Ryan often tells me, “Dad – It all worked out.” Yep.

Speaking of optimism, this is a thoughtful article about how AI could make the world into an amazingly better place for everyone. It’s too optimistic for me, but it’s certainly thought provoking. Thanks to my friend Karen for sharing it with me. A better world with AI article

Image created by ChatGPT. They have a new imaging program that takes longer, but so far seems better. The previous iteration could be incredibly frustrating. In case you’re wondering, the silver hard hat is indeed symbolic. At Colorado School of Mines, they still have their mining roots. When students enter as freshmen, they are given their class’s color of a hard hat, which they don several times during the course of their four years. Dawson’s class is the silver hat, and they will remember that forever. More on other Mines traditions in my post after his graduation.

Finally, yes, it does seem like yesterday when we dropped Dawson off to college. Here is that 2021 post.

I turned 63 years old this week. I’m quite good with it. As they say, it’s way better than the alternative! I decided to share some random birthday thoughts in this post, so here we go.

I don’t know much significance with year 63. But the Beatles sang about being 64, and Medicare comes at age 65.
Next year, my Beatles birthday will be on Friday the 13th. That’s probably worth having a party for.
I saw a birthday card that said, “You are not just turning 63. You are turning 21 for the 3rd time in your life!” I like that. A little factorization that I can finally drink to. Again.
My friend Wendy is a local school superintendent who sends a hand-written birthday note, usually a full one or two paragraphs, to each of the employees in her district. That’s incredible. My friend Nancy mails hand-written birthday cards to her friends, and I love getting mine each year. I never did that. In fact, I know in my heart I am simply not that good. But it’s nice to know there are people out there who make people’s day once a year with their care and effort.
I pale in comparison to Wendy and Nancy. I am pretty darn good about calling my family members on their birthdays. I do my best to wish my Facebook friends a happy birthday. I think I get it right 70% of the time. I’m grateful for my friends who remember, and I am grateful for my friends who don’t.
As I enter my 64th year, I know that my daily to-do list is more important than ever. One of my daily goals was inspired by my friend Rick, who in turn received his inspiration from leadership guru John C. Maxwell. In essence, try to use your words to make someone’s day, every day. Small acts of kindness, words of encouragement or appreciation, listening even when you don’t think you have time to listen . . . it is important and it can be life changing. I put it on my to do list every day and do my best to make it happen.
For the first 58 years of my life, I could always count on a birthday card coming in the mail from my mom. That’s no longer true in her memory-challenged state. I’ll be visiting her in April, and I look forward to it. I’m grateful for all of those years when she knew me as well as anybody, and I know she still loves me fiercely, in spite of, well, in spite of being me.
My three rules for maintaining my memory, based on self-help books, all of the articles I’ve read, and advice from my mom’s memory doctors are pretty simple:
- Challenge yourself mentally every day
- Exert yourself physically every day, and go hard as often as you can
- Be social – interact with others and enjoy being part of something bigger than yourself
My Wordle streak is at 751 – I have successfully completed the Wordle 751 days in a row. No strikeouts. No days missed. So for those of you who say I have not accomplished anything in my 63 years, take that!
In my office at work, I had a framed picture of Mahatma Gandhi with his famous quote, “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” I remain all in for that. If I die tomorrow, I cannot overstate how wonderful the experiences of love, laughter, and wonder have been in my life. But I hope to live much longer, and I’m going to keep on learning the whole way.
I weigh a little more than I want to on my 63^rd birthday. I’m eating pretty healthily and reasonably, though I eat more desserts than I should. I really don’t want to eat less, so my plan is to exercise more. This whole knee surgery recovery thing made me more inactive than I’m used to, and that did not help. But it’s time to get moving. Maybe I should blame everything that doesn’t go my way on my knee surgery. Then again, maybe I’ll just take responsibility and do something about it.
And in the spirit of learning like I will live forever, I was reading Maria Shriver’s most recent Sunday Paper post. She can be a voice of calm and reason, even in the tempestuous spaghetti-throwing times we are all now living.

When the ground shifts, I’ve found the best thing to do is to be of service. Go where the light is. Go where the love is. Go where the people who are doing beautiful things are.

And guess what? They are everywhere. Yes, they are. They are in houses of worship. They are volunteering at hospitals. They are running soup kitchens. They are working in schools. They are coaching kids—and coaching adults. They are writing books and touring the country to share the lessons from the frontlines of their lives.

So many of you here write to me every week about your purpose, your life’s work, and how it motivates you. You are the healers. The uniters. The artists. The architects of change among us. Just writing that makes me smile.

Go where the light is. I love it.

We all need to find that light in our lives. We all need to do our best to be that light for others. As Maxwell said, try to make someone’s day every day. My birthday wish for all of us is to find and/or be that light as often as possible this year.

Post #129 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

If you did not get the spaghetti-throwing refernce. it comes from my last post. You can find that here.

I don’t read every post she writes, but Maria Shriver’s Sunday Paper is a calming and insightful read.

As a principal and as a superintendent, I used to kind of joke that my job was to go to meetings all day. People filled my days with appointments, most often to discuss problems and concerns. That was true for at least 95% of the appointments maybe 99%. I was always grateful for the 1% to 5% who made appointments just to share their appreciation and bring light into my life. In fact, if I based the performance of my school or my district on what I heard in my office, I had the worst school or district in the world. The antidote for that, or the truth serum I used to combat the negativity, was going out and visiting classrooms. That is where the light was. That is where the joy was. Many of you joy and light providers are still in contact with me and read my posts. Thank you for being there to remind me of all that is right in the world. You gave me the strength to do my best to address the real problems in my school and my district, and you made me proud to be a part of a joyful and light-bringing organization.

And just to be clear, I’m not complaining about all of those who brought challenges and problems to my attention. A few of them, sure. But all of those problems were important, and there were benefits: (1) I learned about some things (or about some persons) that were not working, (2) I had the opportunity to make those problems go away or at least lessen their negative impact, and (3) were it not for those problems, I’m not sure my job was necessary!

Tom Peters, a famous writer on business and management, wrote, “If you’re not confused, you’re not paying attention.”

Well, based on my level of confusion, I can confidently report that the good news is that I am paying attention. I have never been more dazed and confused. I think that is what this administration wants. Every day brings a new initiative, or a reversal of a previous one. The management approach is to throw policies, memos, and guidance for everything that was promised in the campaign, like you would throw spaghetti at a wall., just to see what sticks. And if what you throw out is too crazy, peel it off the wall.

I like that metaphor. During my last two years in college, I lived in a run-down house with 5 friends, and we each had a day of the week where we would cook for the rest of the group. I learned a lot about cooking in those years, as I could focus on just one meal a week to cook for a crowd. Being cash-strapped college students, there was a lot of pasta, and yes, we checked its readiness by throwing it on the wall. And we never removed a single piece. After two years, we had turned a bland kitchen wall into a beautiful piece of spaghetti art. There were layers, there were different colors, and there was texture. It was hilarious. I think we lost our deposit in part because of that spaghetti wall.

In real life and in leadership, my belief is that nothing sticks unless you focus on one or two key initiatives and stick with them for a long time. Ths spaghetti wall approach, though hilarious (and effective) in college, doesn’t translate well to organizational change.

So, what am I confused about? I’ll just look at two issues, but there are dozens worth examining.

Russia and Ukraine. Are we really on Russia’s side now? Ronald Reagan’s 1987, “Tear down this wall” comment now seems to be more like “Putin – we won’t stop you if you want to rebuild that wall.” Three years ago, I wrote about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. I wrote that I never thought I would see a land war in Europe in my lifetime, and yet, it happened. I wrote about the heroic actions of Ukrainians and their president. And now the President is saying that Ukraine started the war, and that Zelensky is a dictator. And then he said that he didn’t say that? And yesterday there was a yelling match in the White House? Even writers from the Wall Street Journal oppose this move by our President. A recent op-ed stated,

“Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth visited Europe with the same aim that British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain had when he visited Munich in 1938: appeasement. Representing the “art of the deal” administration, Mr. Hegseth offered Russian President Vladimir Putin much of what he wanted before negotiations had even begun: no return to Ukraine’s pre-2014 borders, no North Atlantic Treaty Organization membership for Ukraine, and no direct American troop participation in security guarantees for Ukraine.“

I thought we already won the Cold War. The wall came down over 35 years ago. Former eastern bloc nations are independent, and many have been established democracies for over a quarter of a century. Now our President is parroting Putin’s words, and everything seems unstable. I am sad and confused. Is this spaghetti really going to stick?

Eliminating Deficit Spending

I was born in 1962. In my lifetime, the only two presidents who had a balanced budget were Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton. I’m all for moving towards that again. Out of every tax dollar we pay, 39 cents now goes to paying for interest on the national debt. We are like first time credit card users, maxing out our cards and being stuck in the land of minimum payments. Actually, the data shows that half of Americans do just that, so our nation reflects its citizens. Alexander Hamilton rapped about the benefits of a national debt in the amazing Hamilton musical. But I don’t think he imagined this much debt. So yes, I am all for a balanced budget.

But the way to get there it is not to mimic college kids throwing spaghetti on a wall. The random firings and reversals of those firings of government employees may save a bit of money. But it’s clear that there is no plan. The process should be thoughtful and strategic, not spaghetti-esque. As Jackson Brown sings, “There are lives in the balance.” There are now thousands of people (the true numbers are unknown), many of whom voted for this President, who are out of a job, and it’s hard to explain the reasoning behind it. These organizations have jobs to do. I led efforts to release or lay off many employees during my three decades of educational administration. Some were based on the employee’s lack of effectiveness, and some were based on needing to balance a budget. I did my best to make sure each of those impacted employees understood what was behind the decision, and to be strategic in my actions so the organization would be able to continue to educate children as well as possible.

One time, when I was a high school principal, my district made what I believed was a truly random, poorly thought out, and last-minute decision to lay off employees in my school and others. I wrote a blistering letter and faxed it off to district leaders, saying the reductions were fiscally unnecessary and would hurt the school and our students. One of the fax recipients called me immediately, and he was furious. He began the phone call yelling, “Some ass**** just sent me a letter questioning my decision about these layoffs. And that ass**** had the audacity to put YOUR NAME ON THE BOTTOM OF THE LETTER.” Damn, it’s still funny. But boy was he mad. In the end, none of those layoffs happened. They were unnecessary and they would have hurt students. I am grateful that in spite of the initial yelling match, our district leaders did the right thing. Decisions need to be thoughtful and strategic.

What’s happening now with government firings is far worse. It’s confusing. It’s destroying lives, and who knows what impact it is going to have on the good that these organizations are trying to do? In some cases, whatever money is saved through the terminations of these employees will be far outweighed by the costs of the work those employees will not be doing. I’ll say it again, I agree that our budget is out of balance and we need to make reductions. But Congress should be involved, the process should be thoughtful, and the result should not resemble a college kid’s spaghetti wall. Great leaders don’t create confusion. Great leaders lead with conviction and clarity.

Back to Tom Peters – I am paying attention, and I am indeed confused. Spaghetti, anyone?

Post #128 on www.drmdmatthews.com

Notes

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
My posts are long enough, so believe it or not, I do try to limit them. Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.
And remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)

My March 3, 2022 post on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine can be found here.

I lived in West Berlin for one year, arriving just after Reagan’s first Presidential visit to the city. West Berlin, located on the eastern side of communist East Germany, was surrounded by a wall that kept East Germans from escaping. The difference that I experienced between an amazing and vibrant West Berlin, and a cold, gray, and silent East Berlin, was stunning. In 1982, Reagan powerfully spoke as he stood in front of the wall, stating, that we “stand on freedom’s edge and in the shadow of a wall that has come to symbolize all that is darkest in the world today.” We do not want that darkness advancing. Here is the full text of his speech.

There have been several articles from the Wall Street Journal. For the most part, the Journal is waiting to see if these move will truly advance conservative values like reducing the deficit. But several op-eds, including Trump Betrays Ukraine and American Values, written by William Galston and published on February 25 , are highly concerned.

I don’t miss fax machines one bit. Although I did apply one for one job at the very last minute using a fax machine, and I ended up getting that job. So, maybe they had their good points.

Photo from Reagan speaking in front of the Berlin Wall is from the National Archives Catalog.

Spaghetti picture created by ChatGPT.

I found myself mesmerized by the heavy rains we experienced here in Los Angeles on Thursday. It’s been a while since we’ve had a real rain. I was reminded of some kindergarten students I witnessed when I was visiting an elementary school back in 2017. It started pouring rain, and all of the kindergarten kids ran to the windows to marvel at it. The teacher said, “Friends, let’s get back to our seats. It’s not like you’ve never seen rain befo . . .” Then she stopped, and realized that California had been in a brutal five-year-long drought, and that no, these 5-year olds had never witnessed a real rain before. She let them stay, look up at the sky, watch the drops pound into the earth, and be astonished at the wonder, the beauty, and the power of rain.

I wrote about being astonished in my first post of 2025. That motivation came from a short poem from Mary Oliver that many of you enjoyed:

Pay Attention
Be Astonished
Tell About It

It was part of my recipe for looking to make my days as perfect as possible. After I wrote that post, my friend Janice encouraged me to watch the movie Perfect Days. I had never heard of it, but I had the time and watched it. There is not much dialogue, and it’s certainly not an action flick, but what a movie! Director Wim Wenders’ movie follows a man named Hirayama, who lives by himself, and spends his days at his job cleaning public toilets in Tokyo. He is a man of tremendous focus, and he lives by his routines. But what struck me most was the way, in his moments of rest, he would purposefully look up at the trees. Through Hirayama’s eyes, we too saw the sunlight, wind, rustling leaves, and the interaction between all of them. I later learned there is a Japanese word for that interaction – komorebi. For Hirayama, the komorebi created indelible images of beauty and inspiration that occupied his days and even his dreams.

Cleaning toilets is not a job that many aspire to, though there can certainly be purpose and honor in all work. But what inspired me throughout the movie is Hirayama’s tendency to look up for inspiration. The only time he looks down is when he has to focus on a job. It’s a good reminder for all of us – looking down too much makes us miss out on beauty in the world, and leaves us with a sore neck in the process.

There’s too much looking down these days. Most of it is phone related. Whether we are walking, hanging out, or even driving, people are looking down at their phones out of habit, boredom, and a lack of desire to be stuck in their current situation. It’s too bad. Nature, neighborhoods, and cityscapes offer so much more inspiration and opportunities to be astonished. Looking down is the body language of the dejected. My favorite musical, Les Miserables, opens with the prisoners singing,

Look down, look down
You’ll always be a slave
Look down, look down,
You’re standing in your grave

Kind of strong, I know. Sometimes we have to look down. Jobs and tasks require focus; if your nose is to a grindstone, you’re working hard, looking down, and that is the right thing to do. But if you’re looking down when you don’t have to, you’re not engaged in a conversation, you’re not seeing the world’s beauty or its obstacles, and you might be missing out on something new, even if you’re looking at something very familiar.

I’ve been reminding myself to look up as I’m out and about. When I’m walking my dogs at dawn these days, I enjoy looking at the trees, at the debris dams in our canyons that protect us during heavy rains, at the yucca plants that are starting to bloom, and at our golden hills that will soon be turning green from our recent rains. Dawn is the only time we can hear the waves crashing on a beach almost 1 mile away. I’ve always loved sensing the world at dawn. There’s a quiet, a stillness, and promise for the day ahead. My crazy dogs are very lovable on dawn walks, mostly because no other dogs are out walking. Duffy and Maggie Mae are terrified of other dogs, and tend to make life miserable for everyone by barking when they spy a dog 50 yards away. Dawn creates a scene that is safe, quiet, and beautiful for all of us. I return from those walks with happy dogs, and usually feeling a little better than when I left.

There’s a lot of fear, anger, hate, and negativity in the news these days. I am not advising that we ignore it. But we all need moments of light and beauty in our lives. We won’t find it looking down. Make time each day to look up. Find solace and energy, and maybe allow yourself to be astonished by the stars, the aligned planets, the komorebi, and all of the ordinary things you walk by each and every day where you can find extraordinary beauty.

Post #127 on www.drmdmatthews.com

Notes

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
My posts are long enough, so believe it or not, I do try to limit them. Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.
And remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)

Not to be hyperbolic with this comparison to today’s world, but somehow Anne Frank, sensing the world crashing around her, found inspiration and hope by looking up. “I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better.”

The idea for Perfect Days started as a documentary about some of Tokyo’s most beautiful public toilets that were designed by leading architects. I don’t think I saw any of these while I was there one year ago. But what I did notice, and did write about, was that everything was so clean and there was virtually no trash to be found anywhere. Maybe that’s because of people like Hirayama who take pride in keeping everything so spotless, but it’s mostly because of citizens who take pride in their environment and for whom littering is not even a thought. For a look at some of these toilets, check out this link.

Sometimes when Jill and I are playing in a heated pickleball game against our neighborhood rivals/friends, I’ll be ready to serve and I’ll look over at Jill. I have to stop because she is looking up and staring at four hawks circling above us in our canyon. While I appreciate her awe at the wonder of nature, I have to let her know that it’s time to stop looking up and to focus on the task at hand. I get an eye roll, and her eventual focus. This post is probably a mistake, as now she’ll remind me about it whenever she is gazing at nature. Oh well. Those hawks are amazing.

If you’re a subscriber, I’ll be sending out a Mid-Month message next weekend. It’s been 11 weeks since my knee replacement, and I’m feeling so much better than before. I have my 12-week visit with my doctor on Friday, and I hope to hear that I can resume some of the sports and activities I love. So I’ll be writing about that, and some of my recent experiences that you might be interested in. Subscribe here if you want in.

Pictures of my dogs walking at dawn, and the neighborhood hillside, debris dam and yucca blooms taken by me on my iPhone 12 this morning.

Picture of the Komorabi taken from a great article, What is Komorebi, written by Kat Nicholls in Happiness Magazine. You can find the article and photo here.

Who’s in that Lane for September of 2025?! Johnny Potenza and JP Llanos, that’s who!!

Johnny Potenza

Let’s start with Johnny Potenza! I believe this is our first full other half (I’m not going to use the term better half – who am I to judge?) of a couple where both have been featured in Who’s In That Lane? I’m sure they both consider it a highlight in their relationship. Johnny had never participated in lap swimming before joining CVMM. How did he fill all of those hours as a kid? Well – he played a lot of baseball – eventually pitching on his high school team. And he’s watched every episode of The Twilight Zone plenty of times. But it did mean that Coach Nancy has had to give him a lot of tips on his form. He appreciates them and they are clearly paying off!

While he’s not yet in Lane 1 with girlfriend and October featured Ali English, he’s now clipping along pretty darn fast – making his repeated 100s on a 1:30 interval. Nice! He even swam in his first meet in Long Beach last December. He said he was super nervous, but enjoyed it so much he wants to do it again. Johnny loves having our CVMM coaches push him and give him tips, and he is always more relaxed after one of our workouts. I prefer the word exhausted, but to each his own! Johnny seems pretty motivated to get into that fast lane, and his trajectory looks good. We are rooting for you.

Outside of CVMM, Johnny has always been an LA guy. Raised in Ventura, earning a BS in Finance at CSUN, working in Simi Valley in the aerospace industry, and a lifelong Dodgers fan. It’s a good time to be a Dodgers fan, right! He’s even seen the Dodgers play in 15 different major league stadiums. Super cool! His future trips will have a lot more stadiums, and plenty of camping at Kings Canyon National Park.

You’ll find Johnny swimming in our MWF evening and Saturday morning workouts. Thanks for being part of us, Johnny. Your commitment and improvement are an inspiration.

JP Llanos

And now to JP! Jean-Pierre (JP) Llanos has been a part of CVMM since 2022. JP is now in his 50s, and one of my favorite things that I have learned is how he described his entry into all things athletic, “I discovered my athletic side when I was 50, never did any sport whatsoever before, and now I am totally addicted to it. Moving to Southern California 6 years ago really helped with that change.” We hear about so many journeys in swimming and athletics that bring us all together at CVMM, and I love JP’s journey.

JP’s current athletic journey is focused on 70.3 triathlons. Nothing like going from zero to 80 when you jump into sports. He enjoys swimming with CVMM, particularly in the months before his next triathlon. He is comfortable swimming 100s at a 1:50 pace, and I’m guessing he enjoys our less choppy and much warmer water. Like so many of us, JP enjoys being with friends during our workouts. I’ve said this before, but non-swimmers don’t get how social swimming is. And his favorite set is anything pulling. I have not heard that one yet. He also would prefer to avoid all kicking sets. I’ve heard that one a lot. He has not yet joined us at a swim meet, but he has not ruled it out. I have a feeling that Nancy will wear him down, and he’ll join us soon.

We have a lot of impressive people in our CVMM group, and JP’s career as a Pediatric Pulmonologist and Leader at Amgen puts him on that list. With his Peruvian and German heritage, he finds his time split between three continents. And being a lover of fine food, he gets to experience tri-continental dining as well. I asked JP if he had to pick his favorite continent food, which it would be. JP said it was a hard call, but Europe, and in particular, there’s this one place in Barcelona. . . . He loves his three daughters, and enjoys all the time he gets withhis Frenchie (Chad) at home in Moorpark.

So thanks to our CVMM lanemates Johnny and JP for letting us all learn more about them. Say hello to them no matter what lane you’re in!

To see previous Who’s In That Lane pieces, please click here.

The last time I wrote a post about political influences on education was back in 2021 when I wrote a post about Critical Race Theory (CRT). I was a school superintendent that year, and I vividly recall getting phone calls and emails from parents asking about CRT – I had to look it up in order to answer their questions. I did my research and then wrote a letter to the community trying to answer all of their questions. That blog post was an adaptation of that letter.

Some time after that post was written, I worked for a district that had passed a ban on using CRT in the classroom. In my one year with that district, I was asked repeatedly in public whether I had come across any examples of CRT in the classroom. The answer was always the same – it was a strong and unequivocal “No.”

Still, the fear and worry continued among many in the community.

Our nation’s supposed new enemy is DEI – Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. President Trump has ordered a halt to DEI programs under federal jurisdiction. At least this time, they are talking about an initiative that, unlike CRT, actually does exist in some of our nation’s schools. Every school I have worked in has made efforts to eliminate racist acts in schools, to support all students in their learning and achievement, and to make every student and every family feel valued and cared about. From what I hear and read in the news, those efforts are now the enemy.

The story that caught my attention was a story about the United States Air Force pausing and reviewing videos and curriculum that taught about and, yes, honored the Tuskegee Airmen, the first and only unit to allow black pilots and airmen to fly in World War II. They also pulled programs about Women’s Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs). New Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, when he heard about the controversy, which quickly exploded on social media, made it clear that the military would continue using materials that honor both the Tuskegee Airmen and the WASPs. The Air Force then stated that an “adjusted” curriculum would be reinstated with these videos intact. However, “DEI material” which accompanied this content has been removed.

Here’s the problem: Where is the line between the history and the “DEI material?”

When I taught US history, I made a point to more thoroughly teach truths that were often ignored or glossed over by traditional textbooks:

Details about the the systematic removal of Native Americans
The horrors of slavery
The heroism of Japanese-Americans, particularly those in the 442 unit, who performed incredible acts of bravery while their families remained in internment camps
The courage of civil rights activists, who endured humiliation, physical injuries, and even deaths while fighting for civil rights

I did not consider teaching those topics courageous back then. But now, it takes some courage to go in depth beyond the paltry coverage they get in normal textbooks. Teachers cannot predict when their classroom conversations on these topics will be perceived as an effort to make students feel guilty for the sins of the past (and I have never met a teacher who sought to do that) or to brainwash students into a “woke ideology” – when they will go from being seen as teachers of history to proselytizers of the DEI initiatives that are under attack. Great teachers do not brainwash. They present information in a compelling manner and help students to think deeply about what they are learning.

Covering those topics does not make teachers less patriotic. We Americans have made mistakes and wronged many people, and though there are still too many wrongs, we have made great progress. My lens in teaching United States history was always that we are the greatest democracy and force of freedom that the world has ever known. I still believe that. I took pride in the fact that my students were always left guessing about whether I was a Democrat or a Republican.

When I worked in the district that banned CRT, I repeatedly encouraged history teachers to talk with their principal if they were going to teach a lesson that some might interpret as CRT, just because of the nature of the topic. And I encouraged principals to call me if they had questions. I have the nagging feeling that, too many times, teachers backed off of topics that might have brought unwelcome attention. I don’t blame them.

I appreciate Secretary Hegseth acting quickly to publicly declare that the suspension of the lessons including the WASPs and the Tuskegee Airmen “has been reversed.” But the confusion and uncertainty has not been completely sorted out, and too much of that confusion and uncertainty will never see the light of day. And this same confusion and uncertainty will be occurring in thousands of classrooms where history and literature from different points of view are being considered. That confusion and uncertainty will create fear, I believe deliberately, and that will have a chilling effect on what teachers feel confident in teaching.

I had the radio on this week, and I switched to a news channel just as President Trump was making remarks about the tragic crash between a passenger jet and a military helicopter, where 67 people lost their lives. Trump began by honoring all of those who died, and by stating that the entire nation mourned each of the deaths. This is what a president should do. – sometimes the president needs to be the “consoler-in-chief.” But then, he pivoted and blamed Obama(!) and Biden for their DEI policies, saying that was the reason for the crash. It was hard to listen to. Very sad. We don’t know the reason for the crash yet. That’s what the FAA investigation is for. But it was a stunning signal that DEI will be the scapegoat for too many things in the years to come. As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Rationalizations and the incessant search for scapegoats are the psychological cataracts that blind us to our sins.”

And what are schools to do when one of our students is the victim of a bigoted act, where they are attacked because of the color of their skin, their national heritage, or their religious beliefs? For me, saying “I’m sorry” was never enough when I met with victims of such hate and/or their parents. Our job in schools is to educate. Hateful acts and statements are NEVER OK, and we have an obligation to teach that. Are the Anti-Defamation League’s “No Place for Hate” campaign or other programs like it DEI initiatives? I don’t know, but I believe some will say that they are. The day we stop protecting students from bias, hatred, and bullying will be a sad day for our schools.

The story of the United States is a fascinating and wonderful tale. And the more fabrics and colors that are woven into the tapestry of our history, the more accurate it becomes. Our nation’s story is more amazing when we consider all of our mistakes and struggles, all of our corrections, and our amazing progress since 1776. I also know that the job is not yet complete. I am proud to be an American, and I fervently believe that the more of us who know our full story, and the more we strive for all of our citizens to be free from hatred and protecting from bullying based on bias, the stronger we will become as a nation.

Thank you, and respectful comments that promote dialogue are always welcome.

Post #126 on www.drmdmatthews.com

NOTES

I add these notes sections for a number of reasons:

First and foremost, many of you are crazy enough to read them.
My posts are long enough, so believe it or not, I do try to limit them. Ideas that don’t make the cut can end up in the notes section.
I include additional resources, links, stories, for those of you who want to go a little deeper.
I may include something from the comments made in my last post, or something I learned in the process of writing this one.
And remember, the posts are long enough – no one is making you read the notes. (Dad – If you are going to critique me for how long my posts are, please stop reading now. This is the optional part!)

When I taught about World War II, I used Hawaii, one of James Michener’s awesome historical novels. We spent a day in class where I read aloud his tales of the 442 unit. One of the powerful quotes that I remember reading and discussing: “[During WW II, when a Japanese-American unit from Hawaii was fighting in Europe Ernie Pyle asked] “Sergeant, why did you push on against that cluster of houses? You knew it was crowded with Germans.” [The sergeant] replied in words that became famous both in Italy and America: “We had to. We fight double. Against the Germans and for every Japanese in America.” Reported Pyle: “And they’re winning both their wars.” -James Michener, Hawaii, pp. 789-790

It’s a sad day when parents stop reading to their children. I was lucky to share reading with both of my sons through their teenage years. And from my experience, if the reading material is highly engaging, high school students still love being read to.

There has been a lot of talk about DEI hiring processes. Here’s my take on that. Having a diverse work force is a plus. I have always thought that the United States military and professional sports, at least over the last 50 or 60 years, have been two places where people have chances to succeed regardless of the color of their skin. In education, given two equal candidates, I believe the candidate who is less represented in the workforce should be strongly considered. And I have never ever ever hired a less qualified candidate because their race, gender, religious beliefs, or sexual preference.

If you want students to receive the most boring and ineffective teaching as possible, direct them to use the textbook as their only resource. The best teachers adapt curriculum and find materials beyond the textbook that reach students, reinforce concepts, and ignite passions for learning.

Sometimes, a teacher, counselor, or administrator just letting students know that their classroom or office is a safe place where they will not be judged for their race, heritage, or beliefs, can not only provide a much-needed respite in a difficult day for a student, but it can also save lives.

The “consoler-in-chief” term came from quotes from both CNN and Fox. In my lifetime, Carter, Reagan, GHW Bush, Clinton, and Obama were all amazing at the consoling-individuals-and-the-nation-after-a-tragedy part of their job.

Here is my 2021 post on critical race theory.

I love the picture above and found it here.

Source of Tuskegee Airmen photo.