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Welcome to Stuff I Learned Yesterday. My name is Mark Des Cotes, I’ve never been in a fist fight, and I believe if you aren’t learning, you aren’t living. In today’s episode of Stuff I Learned Yesterday I talk about learning a life lesson the hard way.
Before I go on I want to interrupt this episode to thank each and every one of you that helped get Stuff I Learned Yesterday, Arrow Squad and The Blacklist Exposed nominated for a 2015 Podcast Award. It’s incredible that we have three Golden Spiral Media podcasts in the running this year and I’m very humbled to be listed amongst so many other great shows.
Now we need your help with the voting. The way it works is you get to cast your vote once per day, per email address, through March 24th. After voting, you may get an email asking you to verify your vote. If you do, just follow the instructions in the email. To cast your vote visit podcastawards.com. We ask that you select Stuff I Learned Yesterday from the General Category, Arrow Squad from the Best Produced category and The Blacklist Exposed from the Entertainment category. You can choose your favourite shows from the other categories if you like as well. Then fill out your name and email at the bottom of the page and press submit. That’s all there is to it. Until the next day that is when we ask you to do it again. So enlist your family and friends and get them voting each day as well. With your help GSM could take home these coveted awards. Now back to our regularly scheduled podcast.
Today’s Fun Fact of the Day: Contrary to popular belief, ostriches do not burry their heads in the sand… In fact there are no documented cases of this ever happening. It’s believed this myth came about because ostriches dig holes for their nests. Once they lay their eggs they will reach down into the hole to rotate them on a regular basis. Viewed from a distance this looks like the ostrich’s head is buried in the sand.
I want to take a second of the podcast here and wish Mandy all the best in her new career. Even though we’ll still hear her form time to time on Fridays, I’m sure her Thursday spot will be missed by many. In fact, for those of you that find a void in your day left by Mandy’s absence why don’t you fill it by sending something in to our Friday Forum? It’s what Mandy would want you to do. You can participate in Friday Forum by visiting our Feedback Page or calling our voice feedback line at 304-837-2278.
Here’s What I leaned yesterday
I was actually in the middle of writing a completely different SILY episode for this week when something happened that made me change my story.
My daughter arrived home from school on Friday and instead of saying hi like she always does, she went straight to her room and closed the door. Never a good sign. Of course being a concerned parent I went to check on her only to find her crying on her bed because “all her friends hated her”. This is what I was able to get out of her.
A couple of weeks ago Joelle’s best friend was invited to a party by a couple of girls that, for some reason, don’t like Joelle. She doesn’t know why they don’t like her but needless to say she wasn’t invited. Joelle’s best friend asked her if she minded if she went to the party and Joelle told her she didn’t. I remember this. At dinner one night Kim and I asked her if she had any plans with her friend that evening and she told us about the party. Joelle wasn’t upset that she wasn’t invited, nor was she upset that her friend went. She told us she was surprised that her friend even asked her. Joelle thinks it’s ok if her friend hangs out with other people just like she would expect her friend to be ok if Joelle wanted to hang out with someone else. Just because they are best friends doesn’t mean they need to be exclusive to each other. I personally thought she was very mature about it.
All was good until Friday. As it happened, there was drinking going on at this party and Joelle’s friend got in on the action. Remember, these are 15 year old girls here. Anyway, Joelle’s friend posted a picture of herself drinking on Instagram, that in itself was a stupid thing to do but that’s beside the point. Now someone took that photo and using a special iPhone app, anonymously texted it to the girl’s mother, which in turn got the girl in very deep trouble. Well, Joelle got blamed for this. The girls that threw the party, the ones that don’t like Joelle, told her friend that it must have been Joelle who was jealous and wanted to get back at her for going to the party without her. Of course Joelle told her friend that it wasn’t her but her friend didn’t believe her and she’s convinced a few others that Joelle is to blame. So now bunch of people at school have turned on Joelle for being a snitch, which she keeps telling them, to no avail, that she didn’t do. I believe her, and not because she’s my daughter, but because it’s not in her nature to do something like this. In fact, another girl as school, one who’s been Joelle’s hated nemesis for several years now actually stood up for her. She told the group that she may not like Joelle but even she knows that this is not something she would do.
Joelle told me that at this point, even if her friend discovers the truth of who sent the photo to her mom, the damage has been done. Their friendship will never be the same.
Now, here I am, sitting on my daughter’s bed listening to this story, my mind is racing a mile a minute trying to figure out what the best thing to say is, looking for some bit of parenting wisdom to ease her pain. Wishing my wife was home to help. Finally I decided to tell her an abridged version of the following story from my youth.
Between the ages of 3 and 10 I lived in Pierrefonds Quebec. My dad’s best friend, Mr. Petrie lived in neighbouring Pointe Claire. 2 or 3 times a year we would be invited by him and his wife for dinner at their house. The Petrie’s children were of similar age to my brothers and no longer lived at home, so for me these visits were long and boring. Remember, this was at a time when there were less than 10 channels to watch on TV and nobody knew what a VCR was.
Now Mr. Petrie had a huge matchbook collection. He had several large fish bowls on his bar in his basement filled to the brim with matchbooks from around the world. In those days, matchbooks were as common as business cards and just about every business had them. Mr. Petrie was very well traveled. He didn’t smoke, but he made a point of taking a matchbook from every hotel, restaurant or business he visited.
So to pass the time while the adults talked, I would sit at his bar and empty the fishbowls to examine the different matchbooks from around the world. They fascinated me. The artwork, the designs, the type, I was amazed with how much they could squeeze into such a small area. Although I can’t credit it to this, maybe those matchbooks played a part in my becoming a graphic designer. I will tell you however, that I had another agenda on those visits. In one of those bowls was a match book Mr. Petrie must have picked up at, let’s call it a gentleman’s club. It had no writing on it, only a photo of pretty woman dressed in her working clothes if you know what I mean. Every visit I would go through the fish bowls secretly looking for that book. Of course, I left this last part out of the story I told my daughter.
On one visit to their house, Mr. Petrie asked me if I thought I’d like to start my own collection? When I showed interest he told me I could go through the bowls and keep any doubles I found to start my own, which is what I did.
Fast forward a few years. I’m 12 years old and now living in Cornwall Ontario. I have my very own matchbook collection residing in several fishbowls on my dad’s bar. Of course I’m not as well traveled as Mr. Petrie, so to make up for it, I would ask everybody I knew to pick up matchbooks for me whenever they went anywhere. It was very common for friends parents to have a couple of books put aside for me whenever I would come over. Because of this I would often have matchbooks in my pockets.
If you remember my treehouse story from a while back I talked about the woods behind the park on the street I lived on. The one where my friends and I would build our tree forts. That summer there was a fire in those woods. The fire department was quickly called in and they were able to put it out before it got out of control. Less than half an acre was destroyed.
As with any such incident questions were asked. How was the fire started, who could have done it? Of course eyes turned towards me, the boy that always had matches on him. And even though there was no proof, everyone was confident I had started the fire. I told them I hadn’t been in the woods that day, which was the truth, I hadn’t, but hardly anyone other than my parents believed me. My best friend at the time was the only one of my friends that stood up for me. He told everyone that it couldn’t have been me. He had never seen me used matches, in fact I made sure every matchbook I had in my collection was complete with no matches burnt or missing. He tried to convince them that what they were implying didn’t make sense, but, the adults had made up their mind and as far as they were concerned, I was guilty.
Before that incident I had regular babysitting jobs for several families on the block. I never received another call afterwards. Several of the families didn’t want me at their place anymore. Their kids could still play with me but just not at their houses. Some of the kids became distant and we stopped hanging out altogether. And not surprisingly, nobody brought me matchbooks anymore.
For a long time people would look at me judgingly as I would walk or ride by on my bike. I didn’t like it but what could I do. I knew the truth and that was good enough for me. Eventually the looks stopped and I got over it, putting the whole situation behind me. Life went on.
It was several years later that I discovered that is was my best friend, the one that had stood up for me that had in fact started the fire. He was in the woods burning leaves with a magnifying glass when things got out of hand. He tried to put out the fire but when it started growing he panicked and ran home. He never thought I would be blamed for it, he was just too scared to confess. When he saw that my parents believed I was innocent and had dismissed the whole thing he kept quiet. His parents were extremely strict and he was afraid that If he told the truth they would punish him severely, which I’m sure they would have.
I wasn’t mad at my friend when he eventually told me. I understood his motive. I was however upset he hadn’t confided in me sooner. We drifted apart shortly after this, not because of the fire, just because of life. Our interests changed and we each pursued other things.
What did I learn?
You may be thinking that my story wasn’t much comfort to my daughter. I’m sure it wasn’t. But that hadn’t been my intention. What I wanted to teach her was that sometimes in life, there are situations that you have no control over. You can’t make someone believe something if they don’t want to. Even if it the truth. It’s a hard fact but we all know it. Life isn’t always fair.
People change, our opinion of people change. It’s all part of growing up. If her friend thinks Joelle is responsible then she doesn’t know my daughter as well as Joelle thought her friend did, and Joelle doesn’t know her friend as much as she thought she did either.
It’s nice to think you and your best friend will be together for life but that’s not always the case. I envy those who can say they’ve been best friends since kindergarden, but in reality, this isn’t how it goes for most people. Puberty, relationships, career paths, passions, all play a part in the journey you call your life. If you’re extremely lucky you may have a friend whose journey closely parallels yours. But for most that journey will twist and turn, meeting people along the way that will become friends, as others may grow distant.
I myself have had several people in my life that I’ve called best friend that I’ve lost track of over the years. My best man at my wedding, we reside in the same area and yet I couldn’t tell you where he lives. We run into each other from time to time and talk for a bit. I’ll always consider him a friend but we’re no longer close.
At the tender age of 15, my daughter isn’t immune to this. That hated nemesis that stood up for her, was in fact her best friend several years ago. They had a falling out over some trivial matter and no longer like each other.
I don’t begin to understand the drama that goes on in the life of a teenage girl, although my wife tells me it’s always been this way. My son made it though high school without any such incidents and I don’t remember anything like this from my teen years. Maybe being a teenage boy is just easier.
So perhaps I wasn’t much help to my daughter. But I did assure Joelle that things would get better. It may take time, but things will. She may never be as close to those friends again but that’s not the end of the world. Wether they believe her or not, this incident will eventually be forgotten.
Not everyone at school is against her, new friendships will be formed and who knows, maybe they’ll be ones that will last a lifetime.
Either way, it’s a life lesson learned. Life isn’t always fair. You just have to be strong enough to put it behind you and go on.
I’m Mark Des Cotes, and this has been Stuff I Learned Yesterday.
As an epilogue to my own story. When I was 16 or 17 years old Mr. Petrie came for a visit. He asked to see my matchbook collection, so we sat at the bar and went through the books I had. When my dad was out of the room Mr. Petrie told me he knew why I liked looking through his collection so much. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a certain matchbook I hadn’t seen in several years and with a wink, tossed it in my fishbowl.
Although I haven’t collected in many years, I still have my matchbook collection stashed away in a box in my basement. That special book tucked away with all the others.
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