For those of you who have been asking...

So, I'm in Mankato.

For those of you who want the facts, this is something you can write down in your book. However, I am certain that you will find the facts far less interesting than the fictions. The extrapolations, the stories that we tell ourselves. The explanations. If we've been reading my blogs, we know how futile it is to explain things.

So, I'm in Mankato. Right now I'm at the Hub up on the hill having coffee thinking about getting a doctorate in Ireland. If you really want to know what I'm doing.

I have left my jobs and my apartment in Ashland. I took all my stuff with me. I don't currently have intentions of going back. My car broke down on the way. I'm owning less and less these days.

More facts--good things to have. We can be thankful for facts, even if we don't like them. Like food. Mom says, "There are people in this world who would jump up and down if they could have green bean casserole. There are people in this world who don't have anything." So when you finish your facts, then you can have your story.

But I'm not gonna make it for you. You'll have to cook it up yourself.

People want explanations when things CHANGE. For example, I grew up eating meat. Then, I stopped eating meat and everyone wanted to know why. Then I stopped consuming any type of animal product and everyone wanted to know why. Then I started eating meat again and everyone wanted to know why.

I can give you an answer, and I just might, but I won't believe in it. I'll give you something to believe, if that's what you want.

I don't believe shit. In the most true sense that I know of, there is no explaining the turns and shifts, the drifting, the holding on, the steadiness, the movements...any of it.

So, I can tell you why I left Oregon, but it's just a story. A fiction. It's more interesting than the facts, but if you want a good story, go see Slumdog Millionaire. Leave me out of it, please.

It may seem that I'm trying to evade the point ("Just EXPLAIN yourself, already!"), but my intention is actually to share myself with you in a much deeper way. If you want to know why I made some choice about the direction of this life, why I made some chess move, I can tell you what I was thinking. But I can't imagine why you'd want to know such a thing. The only thing I can imagine is that you want to know me better, or you want to keep in touch with me. Or you just want to talk to me. Hey, I want to talk to you, too. But I don't have a reason. I just do. And I really do. I like you, too. And I don't know why.

Why did I choose the name Ocho? No reason. Why was I born? No reason. Why did so many of my classmates commit suicide? Why do I have so many wonderful friends? Why am I in love? You tell me. You got some ideas? Cuz I got nothin'.

And I'm not trying to be cryptic or be a weirdo or anything. And I'm not talking about anything I BELIEVE in. It's just the way things seem to me. Things just happen.

Think of it this way: before there were any rules of grammar, people talked (i.e. things just happen). A few people analyzed the speech of everyone who spoke their language (i.e. they explained how people talk). They just did. They assigned some rules to it. They said "this is how people talk." That's the function of grammar. To describe how people talk. And it's a good story. But language is a natural phenomenon, and any explanation of it is bound to change. So grammar is updated, modified, examined, and explained further. There's no "right way to talk," apart from the way people talk. We talk first, then we make up the rules based on that. What we call "rules" are really inaccurate explanations of the way we talk. That's our story, our explanation.

Same way with our natural world. We are a part of a grand living organism called the physical Universe. But we like to divide it up. We just do. We talk about plants and animals and we divide them up further. We say "this is a mammal, and that's a bird, and that's a fish, and that's a bug..." and we love that. And then a platypus comes along and it doesn't really fit into any of our categories, so we adjust the way that we think about things.

We're not copying God's laws; we're just doing what we do.

It seems to me that we're basically coming up with a good story. Science and language and all of that. We explain what we see and link our explanations together via the "rules," which are really just descriptions of how we experience things already (sort of like telling your dog to sit when he's already sitting).

Part of this really good story that we're all acting out is the idea that I'm a person and so are you and we are different from insects and planets and waterfalls and even other humans because we have free will. We can choose to do something. So if I do something different, someone will act out the story by asking me why I did so. Because the story implies that I have free will and that I made a choice.

But I don't believe that. I just don't. Alan Watts says, "Who beats your heart? You do, but you say you don't know how you do it, because you can't put it into words." or, "You can decide to open your hand, but do you know how the deciding happens?" Of course you don't. You can't explain to me how deciding happens. You can say, "Well, I weighed the options consciously, and then I decided that this one factor was the most important, so I went with that," and everyone says, "Good thinking!" But what was it that made the one factor more important? You can say, "Well, it was most crucial to survival, or enjoying myself, or being comfortable," or something. But what makes those values so crucial? You have likely made decisions that were consciously self-destructive (Lord knows I have). Can you explain those? "Oh, there's something wrong with me. I'm addicted to this or that. I can't help it."

No, you can't help it. And there's nothing wrong with you. And it's obvious to me because THERE IS NO YOU. And there is no me. That's part of a really good story and all, and I act it out most of the time, too. And I just do what I do. Without explanation. Like a waterfall. No one asks it, "why?" "Why did you freeze last winter?" "Why are you cold?" "Why are you falling?" No one asks a flower why it opens. No one blames it for anything. No one says, "Hey, pack of wolves, you better start thinking seriously about your future or you're gonna end up on Social Security, eating cat food at the end of the month, because you can't afford to eat." Whatever, dad.

We can't do anything other than what we do. If you ask me to explain something, you are asking me to lie to you.

You might wonder, "well, how can we be telling a story if there's no US?" And THAT, my friend, is a conversation I'd like to have with you. Try opening with that line and see if we don't talk all night.

I love you.

There is no best place to begin or best way to continue writing this book. So let's examine "my" claim that explanation is impossible. I can think of a couple of ways to approach this.

The first is to explain why explanation is impossible. I'm sure you can see the contradiction and paradox in this. The absurdity.

The second is to hold my position, act as if it is absolutely the only possible correct position and say, "I do not explain this claim for no reason, which requires no explanation." And that would be the end of the book. Truthfully, if I was writing only from my own purest position, this book would never have begun. Because it is my own purest position that there is NOTHING WORTH SAYING. I say the concept of "worth" is an arbitrary one. We say things are valuable and purposeful. On one level they are. And, on another level, things, everything, every belief, value, possession, relationship, person, is completely meaningless. I consider this second level to be mostly unnoticed and quite...meaningful.

Of course, you see the contradiction and paradox. If everything is meaningless, what is the meaning of that? How can I say that the meaningless view is meaningful? Let me just say up front that I'm not following conventional logic. It doesn't suit my purposes here.

The meaningful view is a common one. It is the view held in this culture (perhaps by this species) without even knowing that it is a "view." It is unconscious. It is a paradigm. It is "the box," which people possessing a certain creativity may be said to "think outside of." The meaningful view says that, "for whatever reason, some stuff is important." "I must stay alive. The democrats just gotta win this election. Go Vikings! I hate shrimp! How's the stock market doing? I hope I make a lot of money this year. Why is my boss such a jerk?" We see that things are "valuable." We "want" things. We want to be treated well by our boss, to have money, to survive, to be surrounded by loved ones, to keep our bodies warm.

Well, duh.

Now let's consider the meaningless view. Less popular. More on the fringe. More philosophical. More existential or "Eastern" or "Socratic" or whatever. Consider this: for every view that you have, there is another view that is contradictory. And it is held by someone else who is intelligent, sane, logical, and worthwhile. You like the Vikings; someone else likes the Packers. You are a Democrat; someone else is a Republican. Someone else is an Anarchist. You prefer luxury. Someone prefers poverty. People prefer all manner of things, even being treated unfairly, starving, and dying.

I'm not claiming that everyone who is in the situation of being treated unfairly, starving, or dying is choosing it on purpose. Only that in some cases, some people choose these situations willingly. Regular, sane, smart people.

You might argue against the meaningless view. Saying, "Those people are crazy. Show me a suicidal, masochistic, shrimp-loving anarchist Packers fan, and I'll show you someone who needs help." You may have a point. I wouldn't argue with you. I would also say that, in addition to having a point, you have a PERSPECTIVE. You have the perspective that these people to whom I am referring are not regular, sane, smart people. Perhaps some of them aren't. But perhaps some of them are. This is my perspective. It's not crazy, in all cases, to have feelings of warm allegiance to the Green Bay Packers. What about the grandmother of the quarterback? Surely, if she brought you a plate of cookies and you found it in your heart to sit down with her and her granddaughter (the daughter of the QB) and talk about the weather and your families, you would not deem her or her granddaughter to be crazy for being a fan of the team her son played for.

Presented with this scenario, you will likely concede that not every Packers fan is crazy. Maybe one or two of them have good reason to like the team. Maybe if you were in their position, you would feel the same. We're talking about the Mother and daughter of the QB. Consider their perspective. They're proud of the man. They love him in a personal way. Of course they're going to cheer for his team.

"OK," you might retort, "Not all Packer fans are crazy. But most of them are. And people who commit suicide are crazy, or immoral...there's something wrong with that."

Again, I would concede that perhaps some of them are crazy. Perhaps they are sinning against God. We'll deal with sins against God later. Let's talk first about craziness. As a mental health professional, I can say with expertise, that many people who commit suicide are not crazy. Many people who are terminally ill and in a great deal of pain give express
DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) orders to medical staff. I know a nurse who has worked with elderly and dying people for 25 years. She tells everyone she knows that she doesn't want to be kept alive artificially. Not even for a few minutes. She is an expert in this field. Certainly not crazy.

So, I have a perspective and so do you. I say that there is (probably!) at least one rational, sane person who would choose some manner of misery in some given situation. I can find examples from real life, or very probable hypothetical examples. You have a perspective that something is wrong with these people and they need help. They need to be executed, put in prison or on the psych ward. And you can give examples of crazy people doing crazy things. And I encourage you to do so. I don't think that you are wrong, just because you don't agree with me. Or because it seems that you are putting yourself in an oppositional position. I would encourage you to consider your source of information. Where does this view that certain beliefs are crazy come from? How did you learn it? I would encourage you to consider this even if you agreed with me.

Do you think that we are at odds in this scenario? I don't. True to my perspective, I say that you are entitled to your position. That it is a valid one IN ADDITION TO mine. They may not have much in common, our positions. Still, both are valuable. In a way, they make each other possible. How would I even know that I believed that "every position is OK," if you weren't out there saying "some positions are not OK?" My idea would not exist without its opposite.

So, you must know, as an open-minded person, I don't call myself an open-minded person, since that has the illusion of putting me in some kind of position that I have to defend. I'm not the kind of guy who says it's not OK to be a bigot, or a fundamentalist, or a torture enthusiast. That's what maybe a conventionally "open-minded" person might say. I'm also not the kind of guy who says that it IS OK to be a bigot or a torture enthusiast. I'm not any kind of guy. I'm not even the kind the guy who doesn't label people as bigots or torture enthusiasts in the first place. I'm not even not any kind of guy.

You see, I can't represent myself as an open-minded person. Although this is who I am in essence, by using the label, I put myself in opposition to people or philosophies who might be considered "closed-minded." I am not in opposition to them. It also doesn't seem right to say I embrace these closed-minded positions. I see them. I hear them. I know they are out there. I understand them when I encounter them. I don't fight them or argue with them. I can't imagine any scenario where I'd find myself among a group of Holocaust Deniers or Satanic Cult Followers or Gay Funeral Picketers. But if I did, I'd say "hi" and give them a hug or a piece of cake or whatever, if they wanted one.

This is where most of the open-minded people get mad. They'd say that it's better to give those folks a piece of my mind, to set them straight on a score or two. Or to analyze them. Figure them out. And on this level, I say that open-mindedness is another form of closed-mindedness. It is my position that, if you draw a line between what is a valid belief system and what is not, if you say, "well, that's taking it too far. This particular ideology is totally wrong and if you really believe that crap, there is something wrong with you," well, then, you've put a container around your beliefs. It's no longer open. It stops somewhere.

I hope that you know by now that I think it's OK to have beliefs that stop somewhere. Frankly, I find it easier to accept your intolerance of a Holocaust Denier than to accept the beliefs of the denier himself. And I accept them both, regardless of difficulty.

So this is my problem with labeling myself as an open-minded person. If I do that, I represent myself in a box. I label myself. And I can't be what I am and still fit into a label. And I can't logically label myself as someone who doesn't use labels, or someone who doesn't have a label. Because there again, if I say that about myself, I am labeling myself as someone who doesn't use labels. Which is why I find questions useful. Consider the following two sentences:

1. Questions don't really tell you anything.

2. Do questions really tell you anything?

So, I did a fool thing and started writing the best book in history. Now I've gotta finish it. Thanks for reading.

Suggestions for a title would be appreciated.
_______________________________________________________________________
Introduction
 
Are you abolutely SURE that this is a book?
 
It seems to me that the first sentence of an introduction generally serves to grab the reader's attention, and get her interested.  Introductions, from what I understand, tend to give preliminary information about the subject matter of a work.  The purpose of this section is to prepare readers for what is to come.  In preparation, I can only say: you are not about to read anything.  At all.  This book has no subject matter that can be introduced.  And, of course, I have written this introduction in order to do that very thing which cannot be done. 
 
Preface
 
A preface may give the author's purpose for writing the book.  This book has no purpose.  I do not desire to share any knowledge, make a significant contribution to humanity's current body of literature, or entertain anyone.  I do not desire for these words to be published.  I do not desire for them to be read.  Or written.  This book is not funny.  It's not sad or provocative.  It's not offensive or aggivating.  It's not helpful to anyone.  It's not mysterious.  It's not scientific or factual.  It's certainly not inspiring. 

This book absolutely cannot "get you thinking" or perturb you. It won't make you want to pick it up or put it down. It is impossible to have any feelings about this book, including ambivalence, numbness, or the absence of any feeling. None of this will be explained later.

Explanation is an impossibility. To explain something, to refer to some "cause," or "contributing factor" or "criteria" for some "event", is to do nothing but attach more words to it. The fact that we identify such things as "events" is problematic enough, but to define some event, and then explain it is to confuse the matter further. Though it may give a temporary sense of satisfaction in "answering" some "question," there are always more questions sprouted from such an answer. Much like the Hydra slain by Hercules, each time a question is severed, two more arise in its place. This is not a metaphor. The Hydra is, literally, everything you can imagine (which is, to you, everything) and you, dear reader, are not Hercules.

Perhaps you think that I am Hercules. Perhaps you are thinking, "this author is teaching me something," or "this author is playing a trick on me," or "this author is making claims about certain philosophical concepts such as explanation and epistemology." I invite you to open the back cover and look at my picture. Examine my biceps. I am not Hercules.
 
This book cannot frustrate or disappoint you. Furthermore, it is impossible to "not give a crap about."

Occasionally, a "clever" playwright or author will "break the fourth wall."  That is, she will write a part in which one of the characters reaveals an awareness of the audience, or the fact that a play is going on. 
 
Imagine the following:
 
You are watching a play in which the fourth wall is broken.  A prop falls off the front of the stage.  The actor looks out at the audience and says, "I'm sorry, people."  She jumps off the front of the stage to retrieve the object.  She climbs back up and continues the scene.  Later in the play, in the midst of an argument, another character accuses her of being a bad actor, and clumsy to boot.  The dialogue refers to the previous incident in which she dropped the prop.  All of this is scripted and everyone in the audience (including you) now realizes that the prop was dropped on purpose. 
 
People have different reactions to this.  One person might feel annoyed at being tricked; another, confused over what just happened; yet another, amused at the ruse the playwright had invented to give her an out-of-the-ordinary experience. Still other other audence members have no feelings about this at all.  Maybe they don't notice.  Maybe they have seen the play before and knew it was coming.  Maybe they just don't give a fuck.  No two people have the exact same emotional reaction to this event.  They may have similar reactions, but each is truly as unique as a fingerprint.
 
Following this fourth wall breaking, the room blacks out and an audence member gets up on stage.  A spotlight shines on him.  He looks like an ordinary theatregoer, but very disoriented.  He is stumbling and looking around.  He is talking to people who aren't there, in speech that is hard to understand.  Two stagehands come out from stage left, take him by the arms, and begin to escort him off.  He resists them, and the three of them scuffle.  There is a moment in which you don't know whether the struggle is "real" or scripted.  The room murmurs in concern, consolation, disbelief, laughter.  The struggle gets intensely physical and doesn't look much like stage fighting.  The stagehands finally succeed in subduing the man and escorting him off the stage and out the back entrance.
 
After the exit, another man from the front row gets on stage.  He introduces himself as the playwright.  A few people in the audience murmer recognition, say, that IS him.  You hear a man next to you whisper to his companion that he thinks the people in the audience are "plants," and this man is not the playwright.  "It's just part of the ruse," he says.
 
The man introducing himself as the playwright tells everyone that the "disoriented audience member" was in fact, an actor, and that he scripted all of this in order to show us the drama being acted out in ourselves.  He invites us to take a moment, direct our attention to our breathing, and observe our bodies and our thoughts.  "Don't do anything; just listen to your body and your thoughts.  Just notice them," he says.  "You came here wanting to see a play, and got this." 

Hi, People.

Well, after careless planning and practically no deliberation, I have decided to leave Minnesota and head back out to Oregon.

Why?

That's an understandable question. It's the same reason for the name Ocho, really. It came to me and it felt right. I woke up one night last week, feeling excited. It was an odd feeling, so I sat and paid attention to the feelings in my stomach and let the thoughts pass by. I was struck by the city of Eugene. I remembered how beautiful it is, and how friendly the people are. How safe it feels to me. After that, I knew I was moving. It's like an idea for a song. I get plenty of ideas, but every once in a while I know: that one's a keeper.

I'm kind of surprised myself. I never really thought much about Eugene. I've been there a number of times, but never considered moving there.

There are many good things happening in Mankato. I will miss my friends, my clients and coworkers and my band (any drummers looking for a gig?). I will miss the Hope Interfaith Center, the Coffee Hag and the Sugar Room. I will miss my guitar students. I will miss all of the neighboring areas where I play. I will miss South Dakota.

I will not miss the rudeness in this town, the crime, or the alcoholics. I will not miss the gossip.

I am excited for the mountains, the delicious food, the new faces and the new places. I am excited about new possibilities for work and education. I'm excited for public transportation and communal living. I will be closer to my family. I'm excited for something different.

I don't know how long I'll be gone. I know I'll always come back to Minnesota and SD, to visit or maybe even live. Who knows? The whole thing might tank; i might come back in a month. All I know is what I know: I'm doing this now.

I'm packing up my stuff, getting rid of things I don't want. Gonna fit everything into my car again! I'm leaving August 10th.

I love you all.

People.

I’ve been doing some reflecting lately and realizing what a lucky fool I am. What a gift to be able to live in comfort, love my work, give to my fellow human beings and express feeling and ideas through song. I did a visualization a couple months back, of a perfect world, an ideal life, and I had no desire to change anything or try to imagine anything better. I am blessed and rewarded at every turn.

Perhaps the greatest reward of all is you. I could not enjoy such beauty, joy, profoundness, weirdness or silliness alone. Having relationships, connection with people, is the only way in which I really exist. I thank you mercifully, humbly, and with a totally chilled-out vibe, simply for apprehending me with your consciousness. The fact that you even notice me, let alone interact with me and have thoughts about me...it’s like getting presented with flowers just thinking about it.

I get compliments and don’t know what to do with them all. I always try to say thank you. But I really want to say thank you here. Of course, you don’t even have to compliment me. If you have said hello to me after a show, sat and listened to my music, had a conversation with me, given me a hug, gotten to know me, worked beside me, showed me something interesting or told me about yourself or your kids or your thoughts on the state of the world, I have you to thank. I want you to know that I respect you and do my best to look to you in the highest regard.

I often get the sense that I may see people in a higher sense than they see themselves. Sometimes I hear people apologize for not being accommodating, or for not calling me or following through with something, or not having time to hang out or come to a show or whatever. There is no need to apologize. And there is certainly no need to feel bad. Not on my account. I trust that you are in pursuit of the Highest Good. I understand that you may be sorry for your own reasons, but please know this: I don’t expect anything specific from you. You are you; that is perfect as far as I’m concerned.

I’m really saying this: Thank you for being aware of my existence. Thank you for existing so that I may be aware of yours. It is because of this that we are now in relationship in one way or another. We have done that; we’re off the hook. Let’s party! Even if we lose touch for decades, you will have a place in my heart. We could even forget each other...If you have, even once, leant me your ear or a pleasant thought or kind word or a smile or a well-meaning look, you have done me an immeasurable favor. I only hope I can return them all.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

-Ocho

PS This of course does not apply to those actively trying to screw me over. Thankfully, there have been precious few. They will not ruin it for the rest of you. Perhaps I’ll write those folks an open letter at another time.

I work with a lot of kids who are diagnosed with "attention deficit disorder." I am paid to treat the symptoms of this disorder, which include being easily distracted, not listening when spoken to, and other things.

It seems to me that the name is misleading. These folks do not have a deficit of attention. They have attention that moves around rapidly. They change direction while walking. They begin tangential sentences with "also." But, it's not as if they pay less attention than those who do not display these symptoms. They pay attention to more things for shorter periods of time.

I also work as a crossing guard. It is my job to pay attention to traffic and get the attention of those drivers whose attention is somewhere other than the crosswalk. I have a big orange flag which serves this purpose pretty well.

I also work as a singer-songwriter. I used to think it was my job to get everyone to pay attention to me when I played live. I learned how to do this by varying the dynamics of the music, speaking to the audience, gesturing, and writing songs that feature the word "blowjob." Now I think my job is to enjoy myself and allow attention to happen by itself. It takes a lot more attention to enjoy myself than it does to get other people's attention. Sometimes I can get people's attention without even thinking. Without even paying attention.

I also work as a life coach. I pay attention to people and encourage them to pay attention to their experience each moment. I encourage them to guide their attention to things that are more useful for them. I encourage them to identify with their attention. To pay attention.

There's a card game, Egyptian Rat Screw, which is addictive and fun because it emulates real life so well. The goal of the game is to collect all the cards in the deck. This is accomplished largely by chance. The rules of the game make it dramatic and engaging, but still do not rely on any skill on the player's part: you get cards, you lose cards, all by chance. And, if you are sufficiently invested in the game, you feel hopeful, you feel frustrated, you feel disappointed, you feel victorious, all due to chance.

Except for one thing: whenever there are a pair of similar cards next to each other on top of the discard pile (eg two aces, two tens, etc.), whoever SLAPS the pile first gets the discard pile. That's the only element of skill in the game. That's the only thing that's not left to chance. Slapping.

So the way to win this game is to 1) pay attention and 2) act quickly and confidently. If you are doing this, you are not paying attention to the drama of the game: who is up, who is down, who just lost 15 cards 2 seconds ago. You are watching for the slap. Every moment. You are not even concerned about the slap you just missed. You are present in every moment for the slap.

Here's a common mistake: people say "OK, then, I'm not gonna pay attention to the drama. I'm not gonna watch who's up or who's down. Crap! I was just paying attention to that! Gotta stop it..." Think of where this person's attention is. You can see the error of this. Trying not to pay attention to something, ironically, only leads to paying attention to it, or to further distraction.

It seems paradoxical, but the only way to let that stuff go is to let it in. One begins by intending to pay attention to the slaps. Then one finds the attention has wandered to the dramatic part of the game, the distracting part. The thing to do at that moment, if one wants to win, is to accept that drama. Enjoy it. The drama is what makes the game fun. Feel it. Let the attention go. For a moment. Then bring it back, AFTER that. Otherwise we wind up further entangled, as we can see in the previous paragraph.

Check this out:
Once you get good at this game, once you've allowed all the drama to happen, it becomes mindless and not so fun. The chance unfolds all by itself. The player knows this. The player is up, the player is down and knows that this is part of the game. The player knows that there is no control over this, and so watches it happen. The player is done allowing the emotions to be determined by chance. The player is watching for the slaps. There is no drama surrounding this either. The player simply watches the slaps and gets them or doesn't get them. The player IS attention.

Now, the player does not arrive here until the drama has been exhausted and seen for what it is. It may take a long time, or it may be over soon.

AND...
As I said, when it is over, and the player becomes attention, the fun is over. The player is engaging in the most monotonous activity imaginable. Watching for two like cards and putting the hand down on top of them.

Of course it feels much better to have fun than to not have fun. So a player who wanted to have fun would go back to the drama and engage in it willingly. The player would have access to self-control, but would surrender it in order to make the game interesting.

This is attention now. This has access to self-control in all facets of this life. This surrenders self-control in order to make life more interesting.

1. this myspace page
2. Wikipedia - Ocho Rios, Jamaica
3. Wikipedia - Dodgeball (The Movie featuring ESPN 8: "the Ocho")
4. Ocho - a restaurant in Seattle
5. Ocho - an Australia-based online clothing store, "Groovy gear for the urban jungle"
6. seeking surf lessons in La Ocho, Puerto Rico
7. acronyms.thefreedictionary.com: What does OCHO stand for? (Off Campus Housing Office)
8. The Calle Ocho festival in Miami Florida.

also, go to catsthatlooklikehitler.com I was laughing uncontrollably within about 5 seconds.

A: It's Spanish for 'Eight.'

Q: Yeah, but why 'Ocho?'

A: Well, it's not because I have an eight inch penis. Or because I killed eight people. That has nothing to do with it...

I have this conversation about eight times a week, often to the disappointment of the people who ask me. So, I've been letting folks know that if they have a BETTER answer, I'll gladly accept it. Nathan Berg from Aberdeen, SD has taken me up on that offer. I have reviewed his answer, and it is indeed better. I have posted it at the end of this blog. I encourage all of you to come up with your own story and submit to me. (er...submit IT to me). Then I will choose the top eight and publish them in a chapbook which will sell eight copies; we'll all make eight figure salaries and take an eight day vacation together.

THE EIGHT STUPID MISTAKES SMART PEOPLE MAKE
by Nathan Berg:

Here are 8 "cans of worms" even the best of us like to open on occasion

1. The Caffeine Overdose

Caffeine is great. 4-6 cups a day has been shown to reduce the risk of cancer and other great stuff (lots of antioxidants in there). But let's face it: who settles for 4-6 cups? We're the triple-shot-espresso-double-latte-red-bull-mountain-dew-oh-my-god-my-nervous-system-just-shut-down society. Try some apples in the morning. It probably won't work, but it's worth a try.

2. The Just-One-Puff Trap

We as a nation are addicted to a lot of really awful crap. I'm not even talking about heroin or crack--I mean things like alcohol, cigarettes, internet, "reality" TV (HA!), video games, and fad diets. None of things--aside from perhaps cigarettes--are particularly harmful in moderation, but we are not a nation of moderation. We always want more. This is partially greed, I suppose, but mostly we've been raised unintentionally to have addictive personalities. Figure out what your excesses are and maybe cut back a little at a time. You don't have to quit if you don't want to, but a little goes a long way to your physical and mental health.

3. "Where'd this elephant come from?"

We have a tendency to ignore a problem until it spills over into our own backyard. This is easily remedied--do something about it right away. Okay, so it's easier said than done, but I've got faith in you.

4. You want cheese with that whine?

We complain. A lot. It's a great way to vent some stress from work, family, or whatever's bugging the crap out of you. Just don't take it too far. If it's that bad, find some constructive ways to better the situation.

5. "Let's just be friends"

Don't ever, ever say this--even if you actually mean it. Nobody ever wants to be dumped, but if it has to happen, a clean break is necessary. Give it a month or so, and if they still want to hang out with you after that time, cool. If not, oh well. You'll live.

6. Laziness is not an achievement.

No, really. Do something once in a while. If it's cold outside, stay in and jazzercise.

7. Walking the Mile

A lot of the problems between people come from misunderstandings and miscommunication. Just try and see things from other people's perspectives once in a while. It can remove a lot of stress from your life finding solutions to your social problems. Remember the Golden Rule--they made it 14 carat for a reason.

8. Gridlock

We drive too damn much, plain and simple. It's okay to walk once in a blue moon, really. Or better yet, ride a bike! It's fun and good for you.

So pretty much everybody has made every one of these mistakes at least once. Just because the mistakes are stupid doesn't mean we're stupid for making them. After all, no one's perfect. (Thank god!)

Thanks, Nathan!