If someone opens up a conversation with this terrible phrase, run away.

The problem with “Don’t get me started” (DGMS) is that its implied meaning is the exact opposite of the its literal meaning. The speaker wants to get started. Not only do they want to get started, they want to keep going. They should say “Don’t get me stopping” because stopping is the last thing they want to do.

I’m a good listener and love to hear a funny anecdote, unique insight, or inspirational story. But a DGMS is none of the above. It’s a rant, complaint, vent, or whine. The only people who like to listen to rants, complaints, vents, and whines are those with their own DGMS. Which means they aren’t truly listening, they’re just biding their time for the person to finish, so that they can share their DGMS.

The only time a squakle (made that up) of Complainers (see Desert Island or School on a Desert Island) may be listening to each other, is when they set out to steal the DGMS. It’s like watching kids trade Pokemon cards at lunch. The group is exchanging complaint stories, so that they can go off and pawn the DGMS as their own.

Lost’s pilot episode is the best pilot episode in the history of television. I don’t know anyone who watched it and wasn’t immediately hooked. Nowadays, when I get show recommendations, a lot of them come with the disclaimer, “You got to give it a couple of episodes.” You don’t need to give Lost a couple of seconds before you are all in.

There are several reasons why Lost was so addictive. The mystery. The ensemble. The setting. These all contributed to my weekly viewing. But, it was how I envisioned handling myself on a desert island that really pulled me in.

I didn’t imagine myself evading smoke monsters, but I did wonder how I would navigate so many unique personalities while waiting to be rescued. In thinking about the characters, I found that the Lost characters fit into different desert island survival archetypes.

My dad traveled a lot for work when I was a kid. Computer sales…maybe. I would not be surprised if on his deathbed he told us that he was a hitman for the CIA.

Through his weekly trips, my dad got to visit some cool places. One benefit of traveling to different cities, countries, and events was that sometimes he would come home with swag for my brothers and I. Another benefit was that if he was gone during winter months, he wasn’t yelling at us about snow shoveling (why aren’t you shoveling, you’re shoveling wrong [yes, there’s a right and wrong way to shovel, and it’s all about where you start, whether you are clearing horizontally or vertically {heaven forbid diagonally}, and how you should shovel differently as a group], why is your mother shoveling, etc.).

JL Collins (A Simple Path to Wealth author) would have you believe that investing in broad-based, low-cost stock index funds provides you with the greatest return on investment. I disagree.

Daily acts of kindness provide the greatest immediate and long-term returns.

The best thing about acts of kindness is that they benefit both the person being kind and the kindee.

Parents frequently state, “I would do anything for my kids.” I think that they believe that.

Unfortunately, due to laziness and/or ignorance (these are the big two reasons, though I’m sure there are others), a lot of parents are poisoning their children.

The Pareto Principle asserts that 80% of results come from 20% of efforts. In education, core instruction should reach 80% of students, with 15% of students needing supplemental interventions, and 5% requiring intensive support. As a principal, 80% of your time is spent addressing the needs/complaints/questions/concerns of 20% of students, teachers, and families.

I believe the above “rule” is generally accurate, however the exact percentage depends on the particular school. I would even assert that there are schools where only 1% of the students, teachers, and families monopolize the majority of your time. I believe that these unicorn schools do exist.

It’s 2024. People know the difference between good choices and bad ones. They know what they should be doing and what they shouldn’t. This is true in all areas: nutrition, work, parenting, exercise, relationships, etc.

That doesn’t mean that my expectation is for people to always do the right thing. There are copious reasons for people to wander off the path of righteousness. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe you had a rough day at work. Maybe you’re on vacation. Maybe you got fired. Maybe you made a bad business decision. Maybe you and your significant other broke it off. These are all legitimate reasons (excuses) to take negative actions. I’m not saying you should, but I get it.

At the beginning of every school year, teachers create Professional Development Plans (PDP). A PDP starts with a goal which includes action steps, a desired outcome, and the timeline. Teachers can align their PDP with their Professional Learning Community (PLC) or they can be independent. Before a PDP is finalized, an initial PDP meeting between the teacher and an administrator takes place. One common mistake that administrators find during these conversations is that teachers confuse action steps with goals.

When determining whether your statement is an action step or goal, ask yourself the question, “why.”

If you need to give a reason to further explain your statement, then your statement is an action step. If the statement itself provides the why, then your statement is a goal.

On November 11, 2021, my wife (Vicky) and I were traveling back from Tennessee. We were attending to the selling and purchasing of rental properties in the Smoky Mountains. The holiday weekend provided us with an extra day to make the quick westward trip.

Our three boys love tagging along to Pigeon Forge/Gatlinburg, because it means junk food, mountain coasters, and wilderness hikes. This time, Vicky and I made the decision to leave the boys with grandma and grandpa, as this was a business only trip.

Deals done and on our way home to pickup the boys, we came over a small crest on Highway 40, just outside of Mocksville, North Carolina, discovering bumper to bumper traffic. Vicky applied a little more pressure on the brakes than normal, but we stopped safely with plenty of room between us and the next car.

Slightly confused with what was causing the backup and maybe a teeny bit annoyed that our efforts to get home as quickly as possible to see the boys was becoming more and more unrealistic, we heard the worst possible sound.

When I hear coaches say, “The pain of losing is more powerful than the pleasure of winning,” I understand it, but since coaching is not my world, I can’t fully relate to it.

I coached my youngest son’s 4 year old soccer team last year. It was pretty serious with the player draft (false), unrealistic parent expectations (parents were great), injury management (Tommy might have scraped a knee), playoff intensity (didn’t happen), and salary negotiations (of course not). But, I still wouldn’t say that I understand the everyday pressures that professional coaches face or the emotions that come along with them.

No.

Of course not.

That is a ridiculous question.

I have a theory that the website ShouldIBeOutraged.com exists.