After more than nine years on Twitter, I finally deactivated my account.I refuse to contribute to the success of any platform that promotes the hatred of the villainous Donald Trump. I hope Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey never has to face the persecution that the vile Trump is trying to inflict on people like me. However, if anyone deserves it for enabling hatred, it is him.
My family visited the city of Medina in Saudi Arabia last year. One night, while we were out, everyone was tired and hungry. They found a comfortable spot and decided to sit down for a while. They asked my older sons and I to go pick up some food from any local restaurant and bring it back, so we could all eat together.
If you’re a parent, you’ve either been through this, or will soon: At some point you stop being known by the neighbors by your own name, and start being identified by your kids’ names. You become “Adam’s Dad” or “Sarah’s Mom.”
As I child I read a lot of European stories like those from the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen. As I’ve grown older I’ve come to realize that if there were one story I would want to make sure I share with my children it would be “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”
The only certainty in life is that it has an end. I’ve been trained to think of death as a sad, morbid topic. But lately I’ve come to realize that embracing the inevitable can have a markedly positive effect on my life.
This has been eating at me for the last 28 years. I’d like to start talking about it today. It’s what I call the American mantra of “I have no regrets.” In this post I’ll lay out my initial thoughts so that I can, over time, flesh them out and come up with a well-written essay.
I was pre-teen in the early 1980s. The 1980s was the decade of the Rubik’s Cube. It was everywhere. I was in India at the time, and people over there were as nuts about it as people in Europe and the US. Kids all over the world were experiencing the thrill of solving it. But not I. I had a book that described how to solve the cube, but it did a really poor job of describing the seemingly arbitrary algorithms required. Even though I could solve a single side by myself, I couldn’t solve the entire cube without having the book open in front of me, following its complex directions.
As I started planning what to write about for my 30 days posts, I realized that this isn’t the first time I’ve been exhorted to try something for 30 days. In fact, I’ve been doing this every year for about 30 years.