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This year was the second full summer I’ve lived at the beach in Southern California. I’ve seen the full, unedited reality of “a day at the beach.” I know that each person at the beach goes home and tells about their magical day at the beach, but they’ll never tell the whole story.

Maybe it’s because other people don’t care to listen about the reality of a day at the beach, so giving the edited version of the story is not for bragging rights, but out of consideration for your listener. Regardless of why we don’t tell the whole story about the day at the beach, the reality is that none of us tell about reality.

Here’s a random list of what gets edited out of everyone’s story:

1. Parking sucks. You can spend an hour just getting in and out of the beach.

2. The morning after the party. When you are leveling out the sand to make way for your beach towel, you end up unearthing a fossil of last night’s ocean-side party: cigarette butts, bottles, random trash, and unmentionables. You feel dirty.

3. Bugs. Dry seaweed attracts fleas, and they hop all over you. It’s hard to look relaxed and beautiful when you’re swatting at invisible bugs on your legs.

4. The ocean is salty. If you are frolicking in the water and open you mouth for a 1/2 second, you swallow a quart of salt. If you spend an hour at the beach, you’ll see three people hunkered over and gagging. Gagging is not sexy.

5. There were other people there. Everybody loves the beach, so you’re likely to see quite a variety of locals trying to enjoy a perfect day as well. Everyone is invited to the party regardless of how good they look in a bathing suit. Whenever you hear the story, “…man there were these hot girls there that we were talking to…” know that they’re omitting the part about seeing women twice their age trying to be hot. Which is not hot.

6. This is not Bay Watch. We all know that Bay Watch wasn’t real, but you want to believe it draws from some reality. It does not. Lifeguards are not always sexy, and even if they’re good looking, there’s no chance of them flirting back. There are 100s of tourists bobbing in the water, only inches away from a rip tide or menacing creature beneath. Nobody gets saved from death if the tan folks on the tower are taking down your phone number.

7. Creatures Beneath. Okay, maybe you do have a chance of making a connection with a lifeguard. Jellyfish or stingrays can ruin an entire day at the beach because they hurt you. When I walk into the water, I don’t take steps anymore, I slide and shuffle my feet along the bottom. I’m told that I will only “bump” a stingray this way, and they’ll scoot out of my path. But if you take big monster steps and put your heal on their head, then you’ll get whipped with a razor blade. You’ll come limping out of the water with a leash of blood behind you. Women will scream and the lifeguard will drop out of the tower and sprint to your side. This is your only chance to become a player on the stage of Bay Watch and it’s not a pretty scene.

8. Surfers who can’t surf. I’m convinced that guys who “surf” are not much different than guys who “play golf.” Both groups like to dress and talk the part–it’s the lifestyle they are quick to adopt. Because they play the part so well, these guys can convince you at the bar that they are the best surfer or golfer in Southern California. But once they’re in the element and expected to catch a wave or drive the ball 300 yards into the fairway, very few come close. You’ll see a salty, tan surf dude skip down the stairs with a surfboard under his arm, but once he’s in the water, he’s as loosy goosy and clumsy as a Great Dane.There’s something else people don’t tell you about surfing: you have to share the waves. Because there are no secret waves in California anymore, a dozen other guys are eying the same wave.; Half of all surfers are very new to the sport, and they have no idea what they are doing. That’s okay, because we all have to start somewhere, but the collision of a rookie surfer and a salty pro is not a pretty scene. Everyday, somebody gets taken out by a stranger. It’s a zoo out there.

9. Jogging on the beach. This probably the most often told tale of the beach, “…it’s great. After work, I take a run and down the beach to clear my thoughts. I catch the sunset…” Let’s tell the full story of this magical jog on the beach. There are two types of sand at the beach: wet sand and dry sand. The dry sand is fluffy and usually claimed by people with beach towels, which is okay for the joggers, because it’s too unstable to run on. You might sprain an ankle.It’s wise to run on the water-packed sand closer to the water. Unfortunately, this is also where children make sand castles, complete with broken sticks forced into the sand to become gates and bridges. They dig big holes for miniature lakes and carve out trenches to serve as motes. You have to hop over these land mines or run around them. You never see this scene on television. You’ll also hop over clumps of seaweed, massive clumps that looked like dead animals. Another reality of the beach jog is the never-ending fear of getting T-boned by a crashing wave. It’s impossible to keep a respectable, athletic pace when you’re constantly two-stepping inland to avoid a rush of water.;Other clumsy realities of running on the beach is more sweat (from deeper humidity) and an occasional hit by a frisbee or football.

I’m okay with this unedited version of the beach. I’m amused by all the commotion, the collision of lifestyles and expectations. And somehow, nothing can deter the mob from traveling to the beach each day. Nothing can discourage a millionaire from buying a home next to this mob. Real or not, we love the story of being at the beach.

We all have dreams, and we all like to talk about them. Unfortunately, none of us like to listen when someone else talks about their dreams. If you didn’t know this already, as soon as you start talking about your dream, people will stop paying attention. They may be nodding their head, but they’re counting the seconds when you go back to talking about something that makes sense.

Why can’t we help but talk about our dreams? It could be that we understand that if you don’t articulate your dream, last night’s adventure will evaporate by the end of your first cup of coffee. This is an urgent matter. Plus, you may still have some emotion left over from the dream, and the only way you know to deal with it is to talk about it. Still, this doesn’t mean people want to hear about your dreams.

People tell others about their dreams because a rare moment where we can be outrageous without having to pay the consequences. Dreamland is a place where they can do and say things that don’t have to align with their daytime ideals. You can get in a fistfight with Michael Bolton in a dream, even if by day you are a big fan. But in reality, dreams are rarely interesting at all, and it’s all because of poor delivery.

Here’s some general rules I apply to my dream-telling:

1. Don’t expect a captive audience. You need to be okay with the fact that nobody will listen to your story from the beginning to the end.
2. It’s considerate to tell someone about your dream while they’re doing something else, like cleaning their kitchen. Never tell a “last night I had this dream…” story while out to lunch.
3. Never talk about your dream for more than 3 minutes. If you go on any longer than that, you have a good chance of being told to “shut up.” Or “shut the hell up.”
4. If you think your dream is entertaining, practice your story with a compassionate friend before you present it to a more discriminating crowd. A dream can’t be amusing to someone while you’re still trying to put together the pieces.

If you are telling your dream story because you hope to delight someone by giving them something interesting to think about, try to get to the facts. Here’s three examples:

This is Bad

If you are confused by the details, don’t expect someone to be able to follow your story. There’s no hope of a punchline. Try to suffer through reading this:

I had a dream I went back to Young Harris College to teach a class. Or was it a summer camp? I don’t know. All I remember was standing in front of the cafeteria, and there were all these people… They were wearing these dumb things and they were okay about it. I can’t remember what they were doing, but it was weird. Then I talked to my old professor. Have I ever told you about him? He was nice in the dream but didn’t look like who he is in real life… Somewhere in the dream I took a bus and ended up at a neighborhood that looked like that one in the magazine from yesterday, the boxy houses that look like they are made out of metal and glass. Accept it was in the mountains… I was playing basketball but I don’t remember actually shooting the ball. Then one of the guys from the Phoenix Suns came out…

(I’ll just stop there. I’m bored writing about it, and you are bored reading it.)

This is Good

You get to the point. You cut out a lot of the unnecessary pieces, although some still need to go.

I had a dream I was back at Young Harris college in the mountains of Georgia. I ran into the students I went to school with, except a lot of them had on silly hats. It was fun. I talked to old professors and eventually took a bus to a cool looking neighborhood. I toured a house and I really liked it. The next thing I can remember I was playing basketball and all the Suns players were on the court. I think they were playing the Dallas Mavericks, except none of the players on their team looked like they were supposed to.

This is Great

You only hit the most important points. Your matter-of-fact delivery makes the it seem like you are telling a real-life story, which makes the scenes in the dream more outrageous.

I had a dream I ended back up in Young Harris College in the mountains of Georgia. I found a beautiful neighborhood of modern homes in a hidden valley not far from campus. The community basketball court was the practice court for the Phoenix Suns. I sat down on a tree stump with my dad and watched the Suns play the Mavericks. Except Dirk Nowitzki was black.

Don’t say anymore. Leave it that and move onto a new subject.

Summary: I’m Serious

I didn’t write this because I have too much time on my hands. On the contrary, I have very little time, and I have to publish this and get the word out to people. I’m tired of hearing bad dream stories. I’m a friendly person, but I have my limits. If I hear one more bad dream story, I’m going to start hitting people.

(I understand it is unlikely that the word will get out fast enough. So I have tip for listeners out there. If you’re stuck listening to someone’s dream story and you are utterly bored, one way I keep myself entertained by losing track of the story and then react to their story like they are telling a real life story. This is funny only if you are subtle and act truly confused.)

I’ve spent a lot of time high school and college-aged students ever since I graduated college myself. It’s a part of my job. One thing I’ve noticed is how eager students are to get out of college and start making money.

This is normal for students and there’s nothing wrong with it. College kids are burdened with debt and they want to start fixing that problem. For others, they’re just tired of being educated and they are ready to apply what they’ve learned. “Making money” is a reward of sticking through 12 years of school, and then 4+ four years of college. You want some sort of reward for sticking to the system.

One conversation I often have with teenagers is when they are trying to pick one of two options for their future. Their first option could be anything: having a family, joining the Peace Corp, traveling, working for a non-profit, or becoming a youth minister. The second option is always, “…or go out and make a lot of money.”

I’ve never tried to pick apart these options whenever I’m talking to someone. Most of the time, they are trying to sort out two very different worlds so they can figure out where they want to go. They are overwhelmed by the future and they’re talking to me because they hope I can help.

They just don’t choose the words “getting a job” but instead describe that option as “making a lot of money.” Maybe in contrast to the first list of options, getting a job out in the real world does seem like making a lot of money.

Now that I’ve been in the “work force” for six years, I wonder if I’ve failed those young people who asked me for advice. Maybe I should have confronted the presumption of “making a lot of money.” Getting a high-paying job is not as easy as wanting a high paying job.

Reality Check: How to Make Money

So that is one conversation I have with young people–good hearted students trying to sort out their future. The other group of young people have this same conversation about career and future, except their words are laced with an intense desire for money, and an outrageous confidence that money is coming their way. They look forward to college graduation when they can finally escape the drudgeries of their unglamorous student life. They will soon cross into the world of the elite and privileged. Standing on a college campus, these people are almost always believable. You don’t know how to respond other than to believe that one day they will in fact make money.

The older I get, the more I can wrap reality around people like this. Unfortunately for them, it is rare that your desire for money has any correlation to your ability to make money. If desire for money was all it took to make money, then we’d all be rich. Since we all aren’t rich, there has to be something in between desire for success and achieving success. Since I’m a designer, I have to add a diagram here for drama:

Desire for success –?– > Success

Something has to take you from desire to the reality of success. Again, I pass thousands of working adults every day who were in college once too, and every one of us would like to work and make a lot of money. Of those people who do earn a lot of money, I’ve found key attributes amongst them. In the professional world, you get paid according to:

1. How talented you are
2. How qualified you are for the job
3. How hard you work.

Getting qualified for a job requires hard work and dedication. And talent requires hard work to make it worth anything to an employer. Few people will be paid for being talented and lazy. So it’s clear that success is only possible with hard work. If you want to have a good job at Apple, then you are going to have to work hard. If you want a good job as a rock star, you have to work hard. It doesn’t happen any other way.

You would think people would inherently understand what it takes to make money, but they don’t. The arrogant people who assume a big salary is coming their way are always found in the crowd that believes, “It doesn’t matter what degree you get, companies just want you to have a degree.”

It is true that there are companies out there that do not require a specific degree for you to get a job there, but these are almost always pay less than jobs that do require a specific degree. You are foolish if you try to beat the system by getting a degree in Recreation and expect to get paid the same amount as a student studying Chemical Engineering.

To be clear, not all hard working people get rewarded equally. I watch migrant workers storm through the neighborhood twice a week with rakes, hedge clippers, and leaf blowers, and I know they don’t get paid $95,000 a year. But, you will have a hard time finding someone who is paid $95,000 a year who does not work hard.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous Foolish and Delusional

You don’t just find these wealth-lust people on college campuses. In the few years of my life after “The Real World,” I met thousands of people who wanted to be my friend because they were big fans of fortune, fame, and the celebrity life. These people believed that I had arrived at the success they were looking for.

They also thought that we had a lot in common because I was once just like them, someone who was anxiously waiting for their big break and the good life. And since we had that in common, I would share the spoils with them. Like somehow I would instruct one of the girls talking to me to go and fool around with that dude in the corner. I’m not kidding you, 1 out of ever 10 “new friends” I made thought like this. I can see clearly that these people were just greedy fools. Why would you believe that a greedy fool just like you would share anything with anyone?

How great is the divide between desire and reality! Consider the hordes of people who are delusional about their futures of glamour:

1. They want to be doctors, but they don’t like science class.
2. They want to be rock stars, but they can’t play an instrument or sing.
3. They want to be movie stars, but they have no interest in acting.
4. They want to be professional athletes, but they don’t work out.
5. They want to be celebrities, but all they do is wear big sunglasses and look at celebrity magazines.
6. They want to be a video game designer, but they’ve never tried to design a video game.

You have to make a path between desire for something and making that something a reality.

Life is the Greatest Teacher

I don’t think that I’ve ever screwed up a young person’s life by failing to confront their assumption that they would be able to make a lot of money. The fact that they are considering a life that is not consumed by money means that they have a good chance of living a balanced, rewarding lifestyle. I wouldn’t be writing about the subject of “desiring money” if this were the only time I encounter this topic in my daily life.

But the reality is that every recent generation is saturated with young people who have outrageous expectations for the future, yet never stop to consider the hard work it takes to get there. I genuinely care about people, and I want to see their life work out well. I’m truly frustrated by the delusions of grandeur that could make it harder for an impressionable young person to make the best decision. Then again, I doubt if this journal will really make a difference or bring clarity to anyone. If you aren’t looking for wisdom, you aren’t going to find it. If not, life will be your greatest teacher.

I am beginning to realize that all life is is a series of problems. Even when things go right, you’ll still have problems. Don’t mistake what I’m saying for Murphy’s Law, which projects: “Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

This adage is popular in entrepreneurial America today, because at one time or another, every person will be in a bad situation where you are left discouraged, helpless, and pitiful. I don’t know, maybe when you are on the bottom, it feels good to know that it was destined to happen anyway. That you did all you could, but the deck was stacked against you.

Or more likely, it’s just good to know that you’re not alone, that others have failed just like you, so much that they wrote it down. Maybe Murphy’s Law gets more credit than it deserves. After all, his laws are always recited to an attentive crowd–a bewildered bunch with nothing else to do but listen. Laws of success written for successful people will never be read by successful people because they are too busy out succeeding.

For whatever reason we like this law, somehow having “failure” defined soothes the sting:

1. If anything can go wrong, it will.
2. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong.
3. If anything just cannot go wrong, it will anyway.
4. If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which something can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop.
5. Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
6. If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
7. Nature always sides with the hidden flaw
8. Whatever has happened wrong, is bound to happen again …. maybe even worse.

These laws can make your life miserable if they drive you to being pessimistic or jaded. Defeatists are no fun to be around. But for idealists like me, it’s a healthy to be confronted with the reality that failure is possible, that things won’t always go as I hope. Knowing this, I can choose a positive attitude so that I know how to deal with adversity as it comes. Otherwise, life will be a series of problems and disappointments, and life will be become miserable.

As an example, consider my life since December 27, 2006…

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The December Payment Saga

I’ve spent the last 206 days trying to help my mortgage company remember that they cashed my December payment, but they forgot to credit my account.

It’s like your friend loans you $10 and you pay him right back. But he pesters you for the next 7 months asking you when you’re going to pay you the $10 back. This starts out as a friendly misunderstanding, but it turns into “What’s wrong with you? Do you not remember that we talked about this two hours ago?”

But the December Payment Saga is more complicated that a misunderstanding between friends. I have been inundated with letters in the mail, random bullies calling me, and even an automated computer voice that calls my home and my work. I didn’t know this happened to people who made their monthly payments on time.

Each time I got a real human on the phone, I told them the same story. I recited this story so many times that I had dates, account numbers, and check numbers memorized. “Yes, I’ll fax over records…no, I already have your fax number.” Every time I thought it would be my last phone call.

Since I knew I was correct the whole time, I always spoke with a calm confidence, like this whole dilemma was beneath me, but I was kind enough to take time to help the person on the phone get their bearings. Beginning month number 3, I adopted the persona of an outraged male who was insulted by the corporate irresponsibility. You know the “I’ll take my business elsewhere.” I was condescending and short. This felt kind of cool, like I was the undisputed world champion of the phone call, but I felt bad for the people on the other end of the call. More importantly, this didn’t bring any results.

Beginning month number 4, I became a new man, a kind man amused by the ridiculous situation. I would receive their aggressive tone with giggly skepticism. “Oh really, you don’t see the computer showing my payment? (pause) Did you read the notes about my account on the computer? (pause) I’ll give you a few minutes to catch up.” I’d continue eating my burrito until they were ready. I wasn’t sarcastic, just patient and chill.

Around month 5, maybe month 6, I was absolutely blunt with the guy on the phone. I was a man who was about to break down:

“Sir, I have no idea what I can tell you guys so that you’ll quit calling me. I’ve tried everything. I could be mad at you, threaten to call the Better Business Bureau, or ask to speak to your manager. But that hasn’t worked. I would recite my story of what brought us to this point, but like everyone else who’s called me, you’ll forget to write any of this down. I’ll get another call tomorrow, and I’ll tell the same story. It’s probably best if you just hang up and call someone else.”

I spent so many hours on the phone with these people that I actually got to know most of the people in their call center. I could recognize their voices, like family members in another state. I even affirmed a new guy: “You have done a great job. You must be new. I’ve received a lot more help the last few times I’ve called. Please tell your manager I appreciated all of your help.” He replied, “Actually, we recently overhauled our entire customer service department. Almost all of us are new on staff.” So I’ve had this same problem through an entire turnover of this division. It was 206 days of hell.

That is until last yesterday (Friday) when I got my final phone call:

“Mr. Smith, we’re very sorry. We did in fact receive your December payment. Your account is now current and on schedule. Your credit report has been cleared. All late fees have been reimbursed. You will receive no more letters or phone calls. But we will be sending you a letter of apology in the mail.”

I was so happy that I just chit-chatted with Jessica for a few minutes. The call could’ve been brief, less than 20 seconds, about as long as it would take you to read the paragraph above. But I realized that I was in the final scene of a really long, boring chapter of my life, and it would be unjust to not make it more climactic.

So Jessica and I chit-chatted, repeating the same good news back to each other for almost five minutes. It’s all over? Yes it’s all over. You mean, it’s really all over? Yes, it’s really…

I thanked her and gave her some interesting facts about my past that might make her weekend a little more interesting. I clapped my phone shut and asked Candyce to go on a date with me for lunch. We went to lunch at Pipe’s Cafe overlooking the ocean to celebrate.

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Life = Problems = LifeI realize that this journal entry may end up sounding like a poorly-crafted chapter from a self-help book. I would try to re-write this chapter to make it better, I don’t have it all figured out yet. I can’t lace this up tight.

One thing is for sure: Problems = Life. There’s no blissful existence on earth waiting for me if you can just get through this one problem. There are other problems waiting for me tomorrow that I’ll have to deal with too. When I look into the future and see the adversity waiting for me, I get overwhelmed and I feel defeated.

The good news is that it can’t come all at you at once. Last week I sat on the tailgate of my Element on a bluff overlooking the ocean. I spent an hour in prayer, reading the Bible and quieting me heart. I came across this scripture that helped me out:

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of it’s own. Today’s trouble is enough.” – Matthew 6:34

It’s Sunday, the second of two precious days when I can get my life together. Monday through Friday are pretty much about work, but the weekends are for me.

Several times throughout today, I tried to figure out all that I feel so accomplished. I always get a lot done on the weekends, but I never feel so accomplished. I work and I work but I never feel like I’ve done enough. But all day today, I’ve looked at the clock with disbelief that there is so much time left in the day. This is a big deal to me. It’s like a dream come true!

And then I think back to my day, and the only new item on the schedule was a 45 minute run around the neighborhood.

• 09:00 Woke up listening to NPR news, got ready for the day
• 09:30 – 10:15 Went for a run through my neighborhood
• 10:30 – 11:00 Laundry
• 11:00 – 11:30 Went to coffee shop and read NY Times Sunday paper
• 11:30 – 03:15 PM Did laundry, ironed shirts, cleaned kitchen, washed many many dishes, moved all framed artwork upstairs, cleaned garage, took out trash, scrubbed bathroom, watched This Old House.
• 3:15 – 4:30 Met Realtor at my old house to inspect the roof repairs I made
• 4:30 – 5:00 Prayed in Chapel
• 5:00 – 7:30 Mass
• 7:30 – 9:30 Watched Suns game at Mac’s
• 9:30 – 10:30 Hung out with Candyce, flipped through 944 and ReadyMade magazines
• 10:30 – now Writing this journal

So maybe I’ve discovered the secret to feeling better about the things that I do. If this is true, then it’s a shame that I dropped exercize from my lifestyle for most of the past 10 years because I believed it got in my way of accomplishing larger goals.