| It is February, so I suppose we should do something with a Valentine’s Day theme. Which is too warm and fuzzy for me, so you are on your own. |
| You’re not getting off the hook that easily! Although, as the most pragmatic and non-emotional person I know, I doubt that you’ll have anything of “romantic” value to say. |
| Well, I could talk about the business aspects of sending flowers, heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, and remembering to tell people you love that you love them – which, by the way, should NOT require a holiday. |
| You’re right. Maybe I do need to write this on my own. Especially since there’s nothing wrong with using Valentine’s Day as a reminder to tell people you’re thinking of them. |
| I thought that was one of your New Year’s resolutions – to reach out to people you have not spoken to in a while – whether friends or distant family. Or, even new acquaintances. |
| It was. And I loved your idea to pick one person each month to reach out to – whether by phone, Zoom, email, or even a handwritten note, so that by year-end, I’ll have touched the lives of 12 people. |
| Let me guess. You had it to do on your January “to-do” list, and it never happened. |
| Exactly. So, instead of feeling motivated, I feel defeated. |
| I am confident you wished lots of people “Happy New Year,” so that counts for January, and you still have time to send Valentine’s Day wishes, so you are good until March. You are on a roll, so keep up the good work. |
| You definitely look at things differently than I do. But I have February covered, as when I was at HEB buying Valentine’s Day cards for the girls, I bought one for Lisa, my best friend since grade school. She was just made a partner at her law firm, and instead of a congratulations card, I found the perfect Valentine’s Day card that talked about friendship. And I took the time to add a heartfelt, pun intended, message of congratulations. |
| Maybe you should stock up on Valentine’s Day cards and then use them all year long for an assortment of purposes. |
| Well, that sounds good, but I’m afraid it will fall by the wayside, along with so many other good ideas I’ve had over the years. |
| That sounds like a defeatist attitude. Explain how you manage to go to the gym at the same time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but cannot reach out to one “special” person during the month. |
| That’s because I finally listened to you and put it on my calendar and treat it like a doctor’s appointment. |
| And, what about your calls with Nina, your friend in Australia? I appreciate the time difference is a challenge, but you have spoken with her twice in the last month versus only a handful of times in the last year. |
| This is getting annoying. Same answer. By scheduling it. Before, we’d end each FaceTime with a general “talk soon,” and then months would go by. Now we pull out our calendars and schedule the next one for two weeks later, knowing that if something comes up, we may push it out a week. |
| So, take a similar approach to reaching out once a month to the people on your list. Maybe even pick a person for the next month, choose a specific day, and put it on your calendar versus having it on a monthly “to-do” list. |
| I’m feeling a bit foolish because that’s an incredibly simple idea, but a good one. I have so many things on my “to-do” list, but rarely put any of them on my calendar. That alone will make it a high priority. |
| Remember, we live in a world of email and text messages, so anything handwritten is special. But, it does not have to be two pages long, although that might become a keepsake. |
| Funny you mention that, as I recently received an email from Levenger about the lost art of the love letter. And although their intention may have been romantic, I couldn’t help but think a handwritten note, whoever the recipient, shows you care enough about them to put pen to paper. |
| I received the same email, but saw it as marketing their selection of pens and other potential Valentine’s Day gifts. But, it did remind me I needed to order more Circa products. |
| I guess that’s one way to celebrate Valentine’s Day. |
| Well, if it makes you feel better, in January, I sent a few dear friends some heart-shaped gingersnap cookies. |
| If it were anyone else, I’d say how thoughtful. But with you … what’s the real story? |
| In December, a business associate sent me a box of beautifully packaged gingersnap cookies. It included a note stating all proceeds support The Center for Pursuit, which promotes the pursuit of choice, growth, and independence for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, autism, or similar conditions. When I went to order some as gifts, they were all sold out. When I checked again in January, I saw they were back in stock and even had limited edition heart-shaped ones. |
| Now that makes sense. Did you even try the cookies? |
| Yes, and they were delicious, so I immediately gave them to the guys downstairs to avoid overindulging. |
| Of course you did. So now that you did something sweet (well, technically, gingersnap cookies aren’t sweet) in December and January, what are your plans for February? |
| You forget, reaching out to people every month is your resolution. Not mine. |
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It's a running joke in my family that the only reason I go to the movies is for the popcorn. And while that isn't 100% true, it's probably close, as I can't remember a time when popcorn wasn't an essential part of the experience.
I can still remember seeing Mel Brooks' "Young Frankenstein" when it was first released (in 1974) at the Massapequa movie theater, which was literally at one end of an old strip shopping center. It bore no resemblance to today's multiplex cinemas, and the concession stand offerings were very limited. It was dark and a bit dingy, and the seats were old and uncomfortable. But I didn't care because the popcorn more than made up for it. And while I sat through multiple showings of the movie (it's still one of my favorites), I was grateful my dad had given me enough money to buy multiple popcorns, as in those days there was no such thing as the big bucket, let alone free refills.
Fast forward, and some things never change...
First, I ask them to fill the large bucket "really high, please, I haven't eaten all day, and I'm starving." Ok, so I probably did eat earlier, but I need an excuse for asking for a ridiculous amount of popcorn, don't I? Which takes me to the next part of my routine. If the bucket's filled to the point of overflowing, I know exactly the pace to eat it so that it lasts for almost the entire movie. (Trust me, I'm not kidding!) And then, the final part of the routine … I don't start eating my popcorn until the movie begins. Not the coming attractions— the movie. (Unlike Black, who races to finish her small size popcorn by the time the movie starts as if it's something to be ticked off a "to do" list.)
So, think what you will, but for me, the popcorn's a critical part of what makes going to the movies so enjoyable. And has become an amusing memory for my youngest daughter and me, as many years ago, when we were in the concession stand line, she asked me what size popcorn I was getting,
I love you, honey, and you're so smart, but that may be the silliest question you've ever asked me. And, quite possibly, will ever ask me.
To this day, she still remembers it, and although she no longer lives at home, when she hears that I’ve gone to the movies, she’ll jokingly ask me what size popcorn I got. And in the same breath, answer the question. Because she knows that there’s only one answer.The biggest bucket available.
Every time we see the photo above of our "guinea pigs", it brings back such fond memories. You may be thinking, "What? Are they calling those students guinea pigs?!" Well, actually, yes. And before you think ill of us, please know that we use the term with great affection, deep gratitude, and utmost respect. And these eight amazing seniors from the Class of 2010 know that's our nickname for them because ...
We started calling them our "Guinea Pigs" as soon as they volunteered to help us develop our Red & Black Personal Finance and Life 101 program at KIPP Houston High School. It was important that they knew this was truly an “experiment”, as neither one of us was a teacher or a financial expert.
It all started at our first speaking engagement, when during Q&A a woman asked why the topics in our book weren’t taught in school. The next thing we knew, we were sitting in the office of Bryan Contreras, Director of KIPP Through College, and being asked not only to develop, but also to teach, a semester-long personal finance and Life 101 course to their high school seniors. During their spring semester. (Yes, the months right before they graduate.) While Red looked like a deer in headlights (we barely considered ourselves authors, let alone teachers), Black responded as she often does, with a simple:
Sure, not a problem.
While Red went home to carpool and baking cookies, Black did what she does best — use her corporate and business experience to tackle the challenge. So, she requested a "task force" of seniors to help us develop the curriculum because, as she put it:
If it is not relevant, why bother? And, who knows best what is relevant to high school seniors? High school seniors.
Black introduced them to the business concept of a working lunch (which might also be considered a pizza bribe), and we met for five Fridays. We gave them a list of select book excerpts they were expected to read each week so we could discuss what they thought should be included in the curriculum. That first week, they seemed motivated to help — but we weren't sure what to expect.
They came back excited and totally committed, with two of them having read the entire book and the rest having read much more than the assigned excerpts. Luckily, Red had been a straight-A, copious note-taking student. However, she could barely keep up with their comments and feedback, let alone the side discussions generated by the conversations in our book. You could see their interest in personal finance (and many other Life 101 topics) was strong and genuine, and they explained that learning from the mistakes of others was extremely powerful. One student, after prefacing his comment with apologies, stated:
When I grow up, I don't want to be Red.
We'll always be indebted to our Guinea Pigs for their enthusiasm and suggestions, as using our book as the textbook was their idea, not ours. And through their feedback on the book and the lessons they were already learning from it, which began at those pizza lunches, the answer to how best to "teach" a Red & Black class was obvious to them. It was as simple as a book club. For us, it took a little longer to come to that realization as we were hampered by our own preconceived notions about how lessons are taught in a classroom. So, although the initial intent may have been for us to be the teachers and them to be the students... we learned from each other.
P.S. – For those of you interested in a more "educational" look at our detour into the world of education, including "feedback" (student quotes, Black's "non-scientific" surveys, and KIPP press releases) from our two spring semesters when we "taught" at KIPP Houston High School, please check out An Unexpected Education Detour ...
Red loves to stop and reminisce. Black prefers to look forward.
But even Black will admit that sometimes there’s value in looking back — it reminds us where we came from, the detours and roadblocks we have managed to navigate, and that we may be stronger and more capable than we give ourselves credit for. Sometimes, it’s a lesson learned. Sometimes, it’s a memory that reminds us what’s truly important.
But Black has one caveat (and it's one of her favorite car analogies) …
If you decide to look back, keep it in perspective. There's a reason why windshields are so much larger than rearview mirrors.
Black
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