Many people have asked if I would sign their book, but they live too far away or it's just difficult to make it happen.  For a $50 donation to the Phoebe Fund, I will send a personalized copy of #Tryharder to you or whomever you like.  As you know, I don't make a dollar off of the books I write, as every cent goes into a college/future fund for my niece (the daughter of my brother, who passed away a few years ago).

Just click the button and I will personally process your request!

 

Who is this book for?



 

Things have a way of working themselves out.

 

In 1996, I was sitting in my apartment in San Angelo, TX playing Madden football with my roommate Matthew. I thought of this moment the other day when I was tinkering around with putting this story into a blog. I also realized that the last Madden football game I had played was probably 2004 and, if I were to pick up the latest game, I would be completely and totally lost. Yet, my 6 years old son would pick it up in a matter of minutes without ever playing a football game prior. I played a good bit of video games in college, just like everyone else, but I am by far the worst player in my house. You can hear the kids groan when they are forced to let me play Mario Brothers with them. I'm like the last kid picked for kickball. It's sad honesty. My wife makes them play with me!! What happened to me? I used to be cool!! Right?

 

Anyway, back to college. So Matthew and I are sitting there playing Madden and I look down at my left hand. There was a small raised pimple-like spot in the webbing between my thumb and pointer finger. After looking at it a half dozen times, I decided to do what everyone else would do. Squeeze it. As the game came to an end, and I most likely destroyed Matthew's team, I squeezed the raised area. (Work with me here, it's cooler than you think). Out of my hand shot a piece of wood the size of a large pencil lead. A good chunk-way bigger than a sliver or thorn. Enough to actually catch fire if I lit it. Fans of the Dr. Pimple Popper website would have lost their mind with this extraction from me body!

 

How did it get there? 6 years prior to the squeezing, I was working for my dad on a construction site and we were building scaffolding for the exterior of a 3 story police station in Austin. I stood on a scaffold as my cousin Rob handed me pieces to assemble the next story of the structure. I would then climb up onto what I just pieced together and build the next story. I hated this job above any other I was forced to do as a construction apprentice. This was never going to be a career and there were only two factors that kept me from quitting this job. 1) I made more money than most of my burger flipping high school friends and 2) My dad was the boss, so I had no choice but to work.

 

As we were building the structure, and I'd like to add I am not a fan of heights, people below me would hand me 10 foot long 2" x 12" boards that I would use to stand on while putting up the other pieces. You would lean over the side as low as you could, grab the board and then shimmy it up till you could move it into place. On this day, there was one board with a sizable chunk of wood sticking out and as I shimmied it up with my hands that chunk went completely through the webbing of my hand and broke off. Imaging, if you will, a small drumstick sticking out of your hand, one half out the bottoms and one half out the top. Get the visual? Magicians do this as a trick in their shows, whereas I actually had a chunk of wood through my hand! No blood. Just shock and a little bit of pain. I then climbed down the scaffold, shouted for my dad to come over and he then took me to the first aid kit. We yanked out the wood, I bled Monty Python style (it sprayed a little), we poured some peroxide on it, bandaged it up and I was back in the scaffold 15 minutes later. No stitches. No aspirin. On a construction site, you don't go to the doctor unless you can't stop bleeding or you broke a leg. Why a leg? Because if you can't stand up, you can't hang drywall. Why not an arm? Because you can hang drywall one handed. I've seen it done by my father who has broken his wrist more than 10 times.

 

So, for about 6 years, I had this lump in my hand the size of a small marble. Never had it looked at because everything healed fine and we chalked the lump up as an internal scar. I had a tetanus shot since the incident so there was no further cause for concern. For 6 years this piece of wood took its time to surface and escape my body. After 6 years of waiting, it finally worked itself out.

 

Things have a way of working themselves out. I know this was a strange story to fortify that statement, but would you have rather me share with you yet another story of someone facing adversity and then getting what they waited for in the end? Boring! A chunk of wood, living in secrecy for 6 years inside my hand and then making its comeback! Heck, they could write a Netflix series around that!

 

#Tryharder to understand that we don't have complete control of our lives. We can do all the right things and carefully navigate through our day, only to have a large piece of wood spear us in the webbing of our hand or a life event sideswipe us when we least expect. Understand that time and only time determines when we see the side effects or results of our work and patience. This chunk of wood took 6 years to make its way to the surface of my skin with only the help of my body slowly shoving it towards the light.

 

Imagine what you can do if you applied energy and focus to your issue, while still holding onto the belief that things have a way of working themselves out. You need to see the finish line when you start any journey and visualize where you want to go. Know that you are exactly where you are supposed to be in life and when the opportunity presents itself that allows you to move forward and cross that line or finish that chapter, have the courage and curiosity to squeeze the pimple and see what comes out.

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"He's a nice guy".

"She's cute".

"He has a good job".

"She has a good heart".

Almost always, all of these phrases are the kiss of death when it comes to dating. Eventually, after you get older and some dating standards change, these qualities move up in importance when looking for a mate; but initially these phrases will cause you to have many free Friday and Saturday nights.

I know from experience! When I stopped always trying to be a "nice guy"- I became a "serial dater". What flipped the switch? I developed ridges!

What commercials do you remember most? The ones that are different. The ones that stand out. They are funny or provocative in some way. They connect because they give you something to hang onto. They have ridges.

I once worked with a morning show that had some success in the ratings, but it was mostly due to the type of music we played and not because of their ability to entertain. I'm not taking anything away from them, they are talented, but they didn't give the audience anything to really hang onto. They lacked ridges. When we took them off the air, there were a handful of listeners that were upset. I got emails from people telling me that I suck at my job because I ruined their drive to work; only to call their "favorite" show by the wrong name. Or they called to vent that I took away the only show that they listened to "every morning"; 3 weeks after I took it off the air. Favorite? Every morning? When you are compelling, you have ridges and you are memorable.

After a date, girls (and guys too) will go back and tell others about you and one of these two stories will be told. 1) You are an amazing person and you have so many things in common. 2). It was the worst date ever. Both have ridges. The dates in between these two anchors get one sentence and it’s something like, "It was fine". That line is usually followed up by a lack of returned calls, you’re placed in the "friend zone" and given no dating referrals to another single friend of theirs. Being good looking isn't a ridge and won't get you much beyond a swipe right on Tinder. Having love handles are not the greatest ridges either (I speak from experience). Having memorable ridges will allow you to make an impression.

If you are smooth and watered down, then you give others no ridges to grab onto. They fly past you in the river of life, never to gain any knowledge of who you are or what you can accomplish. They don't have things that they can tell others about you. We all want to be memorable and in order to do that, we need ridges. #Tryharder to recognize and embrace your ridges. Know that if you walk through life afraid to offend, make an ass of yourself or showcase your abilities; you will get overlooked. You will be forgettable. You were not put on this earth to be forgettable and the only thing stopping you from being memorable is you.

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