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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #68

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

THE WEEK AFTER

It’s been 10 days since I graduated Grand Valley State University with a Bachelor’s degree in English Literature. Where I thought the preceding week would feel like a triumph, it’s felt more like the fallout of a relationship. I’ve been walking around in a stupor, going through a mental checklist that no longer exists. What’s the next upcoming class? The next test? There’s nothing there—just a void of who I used to be just a fortnight ago. Being in college has defined my life for the past 18 months. And now…nothing.

I’m not longer ‘Robert Hyma-in-pursuit-of-his-BA.’

Today, I’m ‘Robert Hyma-Ok-I-have-my-BA-now-what?’

The plan was to immediately transition into a tenacious job-hunt the day after graduation, which has happened. I’ve compiled a newly printed resumé, updated LinkedIn, and have set up profiles on Indeed and ZipRecruitor (as well as GVSU’s Handshake networking system) to begin the journey to finding a career.

The problem, as some of you are spotting immediately, is that this process is coming a tad late in the game. Most of my classmates have filled their summer schedules with unpaid internships (modern day indentured servitude—but with a maybe/sorta reward of a resumé bullet point afterwards). Maybe I resisted this path because I’ve had a sorta/kinda career path before resuming college, but I assumed a degree would grant instant entry into the jobs I was not qualified for previously. I just needed a piece of university stationary that said I was now qualified for a more enticing career.

Right?

Yes and no. The path to any career is mysterious, often defined by a mixture of the type of person, the era, the culture, and valued skillset. Still, stupid is stupid, and I may have made life more tedious than it needed to be by focusing on my studies so intensely.

The real trick of college is to have one foot in and out the door: Excelling in coursework while simultaneously leveraging this achievement into the working world.

And it all sounds like a great plan until reality sets in—college students are merely human beings. I’ve often been amazed by my classmates who have worked menially paying part-time jobs, coming into young adulthood and confronting identity with new groups of people, how to date and find love (if at all), combatting a hyper-aware society forever wired into the age of the internet, prone to constant comparison, success in every aspect of life a requirement for happiness, pride, wealth, and then to somehow find the clarity of a career path that begins IMMEDIATELY after being handed a diploma placeholder at Graduation.

In other words, there’s a strange dissonance with everyone graduating college: “I’m an adult now, why am I not successful yet?”

***

GRAD REBOUNDING

I’m finding it difficult to cut the cord of the past 18 months. Perhaps I’m alone, but the adrenaline of graduation has worn off and now I’m facing a new frontier with new landmarks and people with blurred faces. Everything is new, which is both exciting and terrifying, but it doesn’t discount the old. When I think about graduating college and moving on, it feels like trying to find a rebound after going through a breakup. 

I had this discussion with a classmate the day before graduation took place:

ME: “Are you walking this weekend?”

HER: “No. My boyfriend did last year, and we waited two hours to hear his name. And then he walked across the stage in about four seconds. It’s a huge waste of time. I’m not walking. Are you?”

ME: “Yeah. I’ve never walked before.”

HER: “Good luck. I’m ready to be done with this place. I could care less about walking. I’m ready to move on.”

There it is: “I’m ready to move on.” She’s been emotionally done with college for a while. Most seniors in college are. Attending classes, taking exams—it’s all rote and mechanical procedure in the weeks before graduation. Why can’t life just be all the things we’ve been preparing for?

While I understand this logic, I think it’s important to attend a ceremony at the start and end of things. The Olympics has its Opening and Closing Ceremonies, marriage its wedding and divorce proceedings, and college has its convocation and graduation. There’s something necessary in attending the start and close of a journey.

Most of my classmates were packing in a hurry to get on with “living”. But what has the past four years of college been if not a significant growth spurt? In that time, most students start in their teens, age into young adulthood, experience sex and alcohol on a consistent basis, and somehow develop an independence that is (hopefully) means not returning to the way things were before arriving on campus. Why does living take place only after the journey ends when so much living has taken place the entirety of an undergraduate degree? Blame it on age, but I disagree that college is a ceaselessly tiring and punishing gauntlet that must be endured in order to “get on with life”. In the aftermath of graduation, I think the past ten days have been necessary to process what the hell has taken place.

That’s my clouded and congested conclusion at this juncture: I’ve been lost and adrift not as a reflection of my inability to cope and move on to a new era, but as a meditation about the old one. 

This is what it means to move on in a healthy way.

Just, try not to eat meals with serving sizes befitting a roaming buffalo or binge watch the entirety of Netflix’s “for you” category as a way of numbing out. 

It’s better to feel the listlessness in the aftermath of graduation than run from it. The point is to feel all the things you must right now.

Otherwise, it’s a rebound into something else.

Might as well have applied for internships, then.

***

PARTING KNOWLEDGE

Before my final exams, I made a point to ask my professors what advice they would give their younger selves if they could. More specifically, I asked:

“What do you know now that you didn’t when you were younger?”

Here are two noteworthy responses from my professors:

First Professor:

“I once had a therapist that said, ‘It’s like you’re hauling around an extension ladder’. By that, she meant that I was looking far ahead into the future, while reaching way back into my past. If you’ve ever carried an extension ladder before, you know how awkward it is to walk around with. But that’s how it feels to think so much about the future and constantly dig through the past—there’s no pivoting without knocking into something you didn’t need to.

“So, I asked the therapist, ‘What do I do about the ladder?’ and she said, ‘Carry a smaller one.’ Since then, I understood how unimportant it was to worry about the future and the past. None of that defines you. What matters is keeping versatile in the present. That’s where everything is happening anyways. And with a smaller ladder, you can still get up and down when you need to, just with manageable heights. It’s much more useful, I’ve found.”

Second Professor:

“I once took such pride in being introverted, until I realized it was largely an excuse to protect myself. I loved to go off by myself and think, or write, or do whatever, but always at the expense of talking with anyone. As you get older, you find the reasons you do things are not practical so much as practiced. I wanted to be an introvert more than I ever was one. And ever since I gave up on the label, I’ve been much more willing to have conversations with anyone and everyone. It hasn’t left me tired and exhausted but inspired. I have so many more good people in my life because I gave up on the illusion of introversion as an identity.

“So I would say: Rethink what you cling to for identity. Often, it’s just a way of protecting yourself instead of being open to new things and people.”

***

Lastly, if you haven’t checked out the recent playlist from Quarter One of this year, I highly recommend it. There’s something there for everyone. Feel free to list your most noteworthy songs of the past while in the comments below!

Robert Hyma’s Q1 – 2024 Playlist

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #66

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

A NEW GAME TO PLAY

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been cold-approaching women in public. Cold-approaching is a term used in the pickup artist community; it means to go up to a person and begin a conversation. Ever since I started reading Neil Strauss’s The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists, I’ve been fascinated with all the things I never knew about being social (as opposed to the psychological toolkit proffered by pickup artists to optimally seduce women).

Courtesy of Amazon

I don’t fancy myself as someone who wishes to seduce (or could pull off the sorts of magic tricks, blatant techniques offered in the book).

But the social-skill aspect of approaching people…That has been fascinating to experiment with.

Some background: I wouldn’t call myself socially inept. I’m not clueless with how to speak to others, even women. Like many creative types, I’m predisposed to an introvert’s lifestyle, finding pleasure in time alone with hobbies/projects than seeking the battery refill of social interaction. That being said, when it comes to speaking to others, I have a fairly rote set of skills that aren’t up-to-date. Much of what I learned involves asking open-ended questions and keeping someone else talking. This is fine if my intention was small talk, or a polite conversation with a stranger, but when it comes to a more meaningful connection, asking questions is like a table with only three legs—it can stand upright but, you know, just barely.

The problem with wanting to test new social skills as someone older is there isn’t a steady place to practice. In my situation, I happen to have a burgeoning college campus full of students just waiting to be spoken with. So, setting out to try a few lessons from Neil Strauss’s book, I set out to test my skills this past week.

***

THE TOOLKIT

The first step was to apply a few useful tips from Strauss’s book. In no particular order, I sought to do the following:

Have an Opener: Really, just a rehearsed scenario that I could begin a conversation with. Here’s what I used:

“Hi, let me get your opinion on this. My sister’s birthday is coming up and I’m buying her a shirt she’s been wanting. I’m not sure if she’s a small or a medium, which size should I go with?”

It’s a solid opener because it invites a casual response (something that isn’t too difficult to have an opinion about) and appears harmless. It’s disarming and allows me to convey confidence in approaching a perfect stranger about this dilemma.

Set a Time Frame: Don’t just approach someone and gab on about something you’d like their opinion on. Most likely, a stranger is thinking two things when you approach: What does this person want, and how long are they staying around? So, to mitigate one of these concerns, it’s a good idea to disarm the concern that you’re not about to leave with a statement of how long you intend to stick around.

I used this one since I was on campus: “I only have a few minutes and then I have to get to my next class.”

I was skeptical that this would be so impactful, but I could see the tension drop away. A time frame was relieving. Who knew?

Don’t be Results Dependent: A huge problem with my previous social interactions has been expecting a certain result: exchanging phone numbers, assurance of a followup interection, acknowledgment that I was the most perfect man and how could I have not come along sooner…

(You can see some of the psychology for why it’s been a struggle. I haven’t, as Esther Peral famously prescribed, “calibrated expectations”.

With strangers, frankly anyone, I wanted to be the most likeable person who could win their affections. If you’ve tried this before, the results are obvious: If you’re desperate to be liked, not only do you appear disingenuous, but will fail miserably. Desperation is potent like Body Odor or blood in the water—people have a sense for it and it isn’t desired. Not socially, at least.

Letting go of results also takes away the pressure of approaching others—simply saying a few lines, playing with the conversation, and then saying, “Thanks. Nice to meet you,” are all acceptable ways of ending things if it isn’t going well.

And many times, things going poorly is as much about luck and chemistry as it is about social prowess.

Speak in Statements: Statements are the language of intimacy, I’ve come to realize. Statements take a stand. Friends talk to each other in statements. In fact, I’d wager the reason we love and care for our favorite heroes in stories is because they mostly speak in statements. It’s simply the door opening to the soul.

Questions are interrogative, like being on a job interview. I’m a great listener and question asker, which isn’t surprising—the writer in me is a natural investigative journalist. But being a great question-asker also means I don’t participate in conversation. Asking questions, I’ve realized, means I’m not offering anything to the conversation about myself. Essentially, I’m hiding behind the lopsided expectation that others should speak and I can sit back and watch them—like an audience. Is it surprising, then, that I’m the one to fall in love with others instead of their falling in love with me?

Of course: They’ve been making statements and have demonstrated character, while I’ve been most often anonymous and asking questions.

With this toolkit memorized, I set out to talk to women on campus.

***

IN THE FIELD

If the pieces of advice I listed above seemed intuitive enough, putting them into practice was a completely different experience. For example, I had not taken into account the entire lifetime of built up social fears and belief systems that made it impossible not to flounder on the first few approaches.

My first approach was with a fashion designer at a coffee shop. She had been reading a book about entrepreneurship and I started with a question, “What are you reading?”

She answered. I couldn’t recall what she said because I was petrified. Up close, she was prettier than I had anticipated. Everything I had coached myself to try had gone out the window. So, I reverted to my default social ability: I asked interview questions.

“Are you looking to start a business?”

“What other things have you designed?”

“Is this for college?”

On and on and on about her fashion dreams. And me? Nothing to report—I didn’t say anything about myself. I could have been an undercover IRS agent for all she knew, which is about how she looked at me after the fifth or sixth question. To my credit, though, I recognized the conversation wasn’t going well—certainly not organically—so I thanked her for her time and said it was nice to meet her.

A class crash and burn, but also a start of something. Where I might have just walked past this person’s table, I stopped and attempted a conversation. So, at least a passing grade with a first attempt.

Partial credit is better than none.

The second interaction this past week was on campus. Spotting a girl sitting in the warm sunlight outside of the library, I approached with an opener I had been turning over in my head. I mustered up the courage and then approached to say:

“Hi, I could really use your opinion on this. My friend was dumped by his girlfriend a few weeks ago, and he keeps texting me that he needs closure in order to move on. Should he text her about what happened?”

Ok, maybe a little too autobiographical for complete comfort, but it worked. She told me that it was never a good idea to try to get back or ask for closure with an ex (a sensible and correct answer). I asked if she’s ever had guys try to contact her after a breakup. She said no and that her mother always steered her right on these matters.

“Help my friend out,” I said, feeling more confident after sensing things were going well. “If you’re being approached by a guy, how should he come up to you?”

She thought for a moment and said, “Not like this. If I’m at a library, I’m working on something. At a coffee house, I’m just trying to get away and have a cup of coffee, maybe read.. If I want to meet a guy, I’ll go to a bar or to a club and go dancing. It makes sense to come up to me there. Anywhere else and it isn’t organic.”

I was surprised by her answer, organic. “You wouldn’t want to be approached at the library? Even if it was Downey Jr. coming up to you?”

She smiled. “Well, that’s different.”

I laughed. “Ok. So, at a bar or a club. Is that where you meet guys?”

She dropped her smile. “Oh, I’m not 21. But, yeah, that’s how I would want to meet guys.”

Ouch, that age difference between her and I. Yes, it was time for me to leave. “Well, I have to run to class, but thank you—I’ll tell my friend what you said.”

“Hey, what class are you going to?”

I smiled. Yes, the hook; the point where she’s interested and asks a question about me. I hadn’t expected this moment, but was flattered that it had come. Too bad the age gap between us was about 13-14 years—something I’m not willing to pursue. I said a class, the lie was white and innocent, and I took my leave.

And gave myself full credit as I walked on.

***

DRUNK TESTING

Whether cold-approaching does anything for my social life, the jury is still out. It’s true that I have more confidence since trying some of the approaches from Neil Strauss’s book, but this could also be an uptick in confidence due to experience. I’m not convinced that any of these prescribed techniques works for me specifically, but I am also at a crossroads in life and trying something new is entirely worthwhile.

The process of cold-approaching, like anything that’s been worth doing in my life, has been the most fun anyways.

Over the weekend, I travelled to Detroit to visit a few friends. I talked about cold-approaching at an Irish pub, and after a few Guinness’s each, we each took turns pretending to cold-approach the table as though we were striking up a conversation with a bunch of strangers. Each attempt was more ridiculous than the last, and we never were convincing to one another. It didn’t matter—after every try, we all sat down to laugh at how ridiculous we looked and sounded. It was great fun.

I realized on the drive back to my friends’ apartment that the fun rested entirely in the aftermath of any of this cold-approaching business. It was never about being successful with women or being considered a social darling—it was all about the fun of having an experience and sharing it with some close friends. We were all drunk, having a great time, and there wasn’t much else that mattered (besides getting home safe).

I’ll have to test some more in the coming weeks, but I did discover a new technique for mitigating the anxiety of approaching others: When one is hungover with blistering headache, there isn’t much energy left to care about how socially graceful you are.

So cheers to me and you, my friend: To more adventures, wherever they may be.

***

Justin Timberlake’s “Everything I Ever Thought It Was” album, courtesy of Spotify

Justin Timberlake’s new album “Everything I Ever Thought It Was” album released over the past week. It’s wonderful. Everyone should have a listen. I’ll listen the three tracks I’ve had on repeat, but the album is truly a work of renown.

In a sweeping series of promotions, Justin Timberlake also featured on NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert series, reprising some golden favorites. It’s a fantastic use of 25-minutes of your life to give it a watch. I’ll include a link.

  1. “No Angels”
  2. “Sanctified (feat. Toby Nwigwe)”
  3. “Selfish”

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #63

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

SOME PRACTICAL ADVICE

Breakups are terrible. No matter how many times I go through one, they are just as painful and mysterious even after a catalogue of past experiences to compare them with. Over the past two months, I’ve been going through the process of moving on from a serious romantic relationship. And while I’ve assumed my usual role of private detective revisiting the scene of the crime in order to solve just what murdered love this time around, I also understand the relationship is dead and that there was no saving it. Since the breakup, I’ve read everything I could get my hands on that offers advice—some things have worked, others haven’t.

What’s fascinating about breakups is that we often find our own methods for soothing and moving on. I’ve found things that have worked that I’ve never found anywhere else. So, in case anyone finds this useful, I’d like to share the THREE THINGS that helped me move on from this past relationship.

***

YOU CAN ADMIT ALL OF THIS IS A LITTLE FUNNY

I remember distinctly the last time I saw my ex-girlfriend. I was driving to her house and had an existential moment of humor: Everything was so ridiculously wrong in that moment that it made me laugh. Everything felt wrong—from the strange distance growing between us, the unreasonable expectations and judgments (that I levied as well, I suppose), nothing felt organic. It was to be our last time seeing one another and I wondered why we were going through with it, honestly.

I’ve heard that there is a moment of understanding right before one dies, as though there’s a recognition that death is imminent and all becomes soberingly clear. I believe the same moment exists in romantic relationships bound to fail. And my advice for if you ever find yourself in that nebulous space is to laugh at it.

It’s ok to admit that what’s happening is funny.

Perhaps recognizing the absurdity of my dying relationship was why I handled the following evening so well.

I was broken up over a text message…after 8 months of being with someone.

I’m already laughing as I reflect writing this. In the world of relationships, you don’t get to break up with a text message after 8 months. To be clear, those 8 months included: exchanging “I love yous”, meeting family, spending nights and weekends together, and even mowing each other’s lawns (well, I mowed hers—which is a whole other story). Given that backstory, it doesn’t follow that a relationship like that should end with a SINGLE text message informing that things are over.

She sent it late at night: 

“Robert, I’ve been sorting through my feelings about our relationship the past few months and now I know that I don’t want this. Sorry it took me so long to process.” 

Ok: abrupt, a little remorseless, but not unfathomable—it’s not like we were a great couple. But still, breaking up over a text message?

It gets better. She added:

“Don’t call me, I won’t pick up. I’ll call you tomorrow or Monday if you want to talk about it.”

That’s when I laughed. 

Really hard.

Because until that moment, I didn’t know you could do that: Schedule a breakup in advance.

To her credit, it took the sting of the breakup away initially. The notion that you can break up with someone and then schedule to talk about it later is hilarious to me. It defies the act entirely: 

You’re breaking up RIGHT NOW.

It’s not worth bringing up the cowardice of ending things over a text message (which is also indicative of so much else that was wrong with the relationship), nor all the negative attributes of that moment that aren’t worth elaborating on either. What I will say, in hindsight, I am grateful that things ended so absurdly. There were tears when it happened, but mostly from laughter. It’s hard to completely fault someone else for at least ending things on a joke—even though it was at her expense.

Real tears were to follow, of course—I did love her—but this part was funny and worth laughing about. It was a good start to a long breakup process, really, which helped in the long run.

***

IT’S OK TO COMPARE PAST BREAKUPS

Another surprising strategy that has helped is comparing past breakups. The added benefit of having gone through many breakups is recognizing that some were better than others. In many cases, I started to think fondly of past relationships that ended in a way that was – for a lack of a better term – classy.

No one likes a breakup because it means something wasn’t working, but there is a sense of integrity in finding a fitting ending. I’ve found that those who breakup with a polite and professional message are the ones doing it right. For example, I once hated receiving the rejected job application breakup:

“Hey, sorry to do this, but I don’t think we’re clicking. While I think you’re a terrific candidate and will make some other employer extremely happy in the future, it just wasn’t the right fit for me or my company. I’ve decided to go in another direction at this time. Thanks for applying and I wish you the best going forward.”

It still hurts, and is inhumanly sterile in warmth or tone, but it is a nice sentiment compared to other ways people choose to breakup.

*cough* Like a text message that attempts to schedule an explanation a day or two later. *cough*

I have never appreciated ex-girlfriends like I have from this previous breakup. While those breakups felt cruel and unreasonable at the time, I now see that they also showed a maturity in recognizing the relationship wasn’t going to work and how best to approach its end. Perhaps it is the writer in me, but I always appreciate those who put effort into the endings of things. It isn’t necessary to have total understanding or closure from a relationship (because no explanation erases the reality that the relationship failed; and most often, seeking closure morphs into something unhealthy such as keeping the door open a crack just in case both want to try – and fail – again).

In many ways, I feel better about my other breakups. They seem nicer now, somehow.

***

WHEN IN DOUBT, IMAGINE WHAT YOUR HEROES WOULD SAY

One of the most useful techniques I’ve discovered is to imagine you are telling the story of your relationship to one of your heroes. If I were to honestly tell the story of what happened, how would they respond? Here are what a few of my heroes would have to say:

Colin Jost: “Her brother wore a gun on holster on his chest when meeting you? In his own home? Did he offer to chest bump you to make the gun go off? What a great way of getting away with murder for someone with a severe insecurity complex. “Chest bump with the safety off, bro!” C’mon, even in westerns the cowboys take off their guns in their own homes!”

Craig Mazin: “No. Just, no. You should have left when she said that her “true self” was someone selfish, blunt, crass, and mean. Here’s some advice: when someone says, ‘Oh, here’s who I really am’ and gets VERY specific about the terrible qualities they possess, you BELIEVE THEM. Get away. Get far, far away.”

Neil Gaiman: “You know, when I was writing Coraline, I had an idea to make the little doorway to the other world have a guillotine blade that would shutter down if one wasn’t looking carefully enough, cutting off a finger or an arm. But I found it didn’t work because – and I think this is much like what you were telling me about your ex-girlfriend who believes in conspiracy theories – it was a bit TOO much of the wrong thing.”

Lori Gotlieb: “She wanted to stop saying ‘I love you’ months after you both had declared love for one another, and this was because she didn’t want to say it in case the relationship wouldn’t last? I’m not sure you can preorder a breakup in a relationship, but I think that’s what she was doing there. And you must ask yourself: Does that quality make for a good partner? I think you already know the answer to that.”

***

CAST FOR SANITY

At this point in my life, I don’t know what makes for a healthy relationship because – honestly – I’ve never had one. However, I can imagine what it feels like to enjoy a healthy romantic relationship. I won’t constantly wonder if someone wants to build something with me or not. I don’t think there will be family members or a roommate constantly gossiping about what a wrong fit I am, even though they never asked much about me. Nor will there be constant judgment and seeking out all my faults because I wasn’t, suddenly, impressive anymore (8 months into a relationship, ain’t NO ONE impressive any longer).

In short: it just shouldn’t be so goddam hard.

The director Judd Apatow has said that when he casts actors for his movies, he first and foremost casts for sanity. 

Ultimately, I think this is the best advice for choosing a romantic partner. And it is casting: you are being selective about who earns the role of being in your life (just remember that you are also auditioning for theirs).

So, just remember: When the next audition shows up and says they found Jesus Christ at 4-years-old, has a sibling that is convinced you are a communist because IT WAS A THOUGHT THAT CAME INTO HIS BRAIN FOR NO REASON, and claims that a clinically obsessive roommate’s 20-30 texts in a row are because she’s “just looking out for me.”

You can pass.

Even better: You should laugh, think fondly about past auditions that weren’t so bad in hindsight (but that you wouldn’t cast, either), and that everyone around you – whom is reasonable and wise –  suggests you see other auditions.

Because there’s still a line of people waiting to read for the part outside.

And don’t worry: It’s a great movie. We all believe in it. And the right cast will make it even better.

Until then, you can tell the person in front of you with a smile and polite dismissal, “Thanks, I think we got it. We’ll let you know.” 

***

I have one song only to recommend this week and it is the new Justin Timberlake track “Sanctify” that debuted on Saturday Night Live this past weekend. I’ve had it on repeat the past few days and, for the first time, can confidently admit that I’m looking forward to JT’s new album dropping in March. Here’s the performance from SNL, it’s worth a watch:

https://youtu.be/zLC8XiBxV1k?si=cll-mC_-yBNYWN0Q

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #53

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

THE MOST VALUABLE SKILL

A text message came early on in the week. A friend asked: “Which are the most valuable skills to have in life?”

At 33, I have a different relationship with the notion of “success” than I did when I was in my twenties and the world appeared full of potential. In my twenties, I might have answered something like: “Develop a skill, make it as good as you can get it, move to a place where someone values that skill, and then things will likely work out.” 

Which, isn’t bad advice. Many a YouTube guru would gladly make a motivational video about it.

Except, I’m skeptical of such advice now, even if it proves practical. I’m older, full of experiences to the contrary, and am aware that the complexities of career success are beyond how talented or hard working one is. Plus, there are years and years of learned behaviors such as poor relationships, recovering from divorce, and social factors like the Covid-19 pandemic and a world increasingly growing pessimistic and fearful from an overexposure to media of every variety.

In short—it’s much harder to pinpoint which advice applies the most when the floor is constantly shifting underneath.

All of this isn’t to say I’ve grown negative or unhopeful. To the contrary, I feel optimistic about my future and everyone else’s. Having said that, I wouldn’t give the usual American “work hard and your dreams will come true” pathos.

So, I took a night and thought about how I would answer my friend. The next morning, this is what I texted back:

“Honestly, I think my official answer is, ‘I don’t know’. At 33, my best guess is critical thinking, some basic reading and writing, and emotional intelligence. Throw in boundary setting as a bonus. By far, I think the best skill ever is to be naturally lucky.”

It’s been a few days since I sent that text. When I reread it now, I shrug. It’s a typical “I’m nearing my mid-thirties and I’m unsure why things aren’t going better” response. Deductively, this exact line of reasoning is likely why my friend asked me his question in the first place.

And after writing this Weekly Post-Ed, I shrug again. Not from my answer, but because I find the question of essential skills less interesting the older I get. I’m sure the constant hustle and clawing for success matters to some, and power to anyone attempting to climb up their respective hierarchical ladders, but I’ve resigned myself to playing the hand I’ve been dealt.

And like the games of solitaire I play at my desk, I hope to get lucky with the next hand or two. It’s not the most inspiring way to play (or even sell this metaphor), but it keeps me playing the next round without expecting so much, which, by the way, is another great skill to have handy.

Maybe I should have said that in my reply to my friend instead. Oops.

I’ll leave it open for all of you: What do you all feel are the best skills to have in life?

***

  1. “Our Wasted Hours” by Clean Cut Kid
  2. “Northern Lights” by Oliver Harzard
  3. “Them Jeans” by Joe Hertler and the Rainbow Seekers

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #23

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

AGDQ GRAND TOTAL

            What a fantastic week of gaming and charity! Through 7 days, AGDQ 2022 raised a total of $3,416,729 for The Prevent Cancer Foundation, a record high. The generosity of viewers for an event that started so small (in the basement of one of the founder’s mother’s house ten years ago), to being a huge contributor to major causes around the world is such a gratifying thing to be a part of.

            Games Done Quick returns this summer with SGDQ and I hope it eclipses the 3.5 million milestone for Doctors Without Borders. The world is a better place because of this event, no doubt about it. 

***

MARVEL FANDOM: WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER NOW

            The Marvel Cinematic Universe (Marvel’s movies and television shows) has become so numerous and robust that it isn’t easy to keep up with what’s going on. Even I watch analysis videos about the Easter Eggs in each film and episode on Disney+, paying attention like a student at a college lecture. Yet, somehow this fandom happened to me, and I think most of America.

            What’s interesting about fandom is that it takes devotion and study, something most adults would rather not give time for. “Watch Star Trek? All of it? I don’t have time.” Or, “Star Wars? How many movies are there? Oh, and then read the books for all the differences?” You’d rather take a course in World History (which might be less robust than the stories of those two franchises). And yet, all of us know the story of Iron Man and Captain America and the fight with Thanos.

            So, what made us all aware of the MCU? 

            Like any central entertainment of its time (the Beatles in the 60s, disco in the 70s etc), it was the unifying force that people talked about and experienced with one another. We watched the MCU on the big screen over the course of a decade and fell in love. Marvel movies were the spotlight attraction, and we followed the story as it was built. Perhaps movies do something that other mediums cannot. Movies are a visceral experience, much faster and easier to consume, and accessible by just about every walk of life. Not only that, but the movies were damned interesting: some heroes were larger than life like the billionaire Tony Stark, some were about the small guy with a big heart trying to do the right thing…and also gains superpowers along the way (Captain America, Spider-Man). There was a story for everyone. The MCU was exciting, entertaining, and it put forth a storyline that was easy enough to follow: 

            A group of super-powered individuals must team up through their differences in order to defeat the all-powerful bad guy.

            Anyone can follow that story. In fact, we all prefer that type of story. Sports teams, elections, religion, awards contests are all whittled down to “My favorite team has to somehow beat your team because we are the righteous ones.” We even narrate our daily lives with this narrative form, “Can you believe what my boss said to me today? I should turn around and tell that guy to…”

            And let justice be served.

            Superheroes are greater forms of all of us. They do what we cannot and we envy to be them. Like gods, they can impact the world at their will, doing mighty things. We want to be like them because, as we see it, we already are them…just without the powers. 

            All of this led to an inadvertent baptism into comic book fandom. Those that never thought they would care for the likes of Captain America, Spider-Man, Iron Man, or even the obscure (until the James Gunn movies) Guardians of the Galaxy suddenly said sentences like, “See, just like Star Lord,” and, “I can do this all day,” catchphrases from the movies. And we followed this team of superpowered misfits come together and beat the baddest of all bad guys: Thanos.

            Then, it was over. Our favorite characters leaving the silver screen, leaving the fight to whoever comes next.

            What comes next?

            Once the Infinity Saga ended and Thanos was defeated in Avengers: Endgame, I thought there would be a sudden decline with how devoted Marvel fans would remain. Suddenly, the story was not going to be as simple as “beating the bad guy.” Things were going to change and the path began twisting in ways that might have taken most by surprise.

            In this current MCU multiverse, it’s hard to tell up from down. The Loki we followed and loved until his death in Avengers: Infinity War was killed, but another Loki, one from another universe, has taken over. I found myself asking: am I ok with that? Do I feel any differently about this Loki or the previous one?

            Not only is there a Spider-Man, but there are multiple Spider-Men. In the next Doctor Strange, there are multiple Doctor Stranges—do I care about this? I honestly don’t know.

            In the current MCU story, there isn’t a singular objective (at least not yet), and I had my doubts that moviegoers would stick to the Marvel formula if things got too weird.

            Over the past two years, however, it turns out they are willing to stick it through. And for reasons that were unexpected.

            For one, devotion to anything means an acceptance of whatever is presented. Fandom, especially devoted fandom, is near psychosis in many ways because of how much we are willing to ignore for the sake of the cause. Another way of putting it: love. We are in love with these heroes. We want our heroes to be heroic, even if we don’t understand them. Hell, they could even behave un-heroically, putting people in danger for selfish reasons so long as they are equipped with the superpowers we all dream we could have (ie Spider-Man: No Way Home when Tom Holland’s Peter Parker attempts to wipe the memory of his identity from EVERYONE in the world—a purely selfish and defensive decision made without any kind of deliberation about what it means to tamper with freewill or others’ rights).

            Instead of a concrete story to follow, what Marvel has done is create a need to know the rest of the story, no matter what it is. We’re all vested, we all want to know what comes next. So, we’ll follow this until the end, most likely, because we’ve been doing so for over a decade (sort of a Gray’s Anatomy of the cinema, really). Watching a Marvel movie is beyond habit at this point, it’s Stockholm syndrome—we’ve fallen in love with our captors.

            I don’t think many would forgive Marvel for something shoddy and poorly done. What helps propel Marvel along is that with every new movie and hero, each new story (no matter how bizarre or obtuse it is compared with the “good guy beats bad guy” formula) is something interesting and unique. In that, we’re willing to keep going along with the gag, to see where it all leads..

            Because we trust that it will lead somewhere.

  • A Chinese assassin whose mother belonged to an ancient civilization that housed a protector dragon, and whose father owned a set of celestial rings from across the universe? Cool, I’ll buy it.
  • A group of precursor robots sent to monitor human development throughout the centuries so that the population grows vast enough to energize an egg birthing in the core of the earth? Ok, gotcha, never heard that one, I like it—what else have you got?

            And on the story goes, but we are still willing to hear it. “Give me another, tell me more.”

            I don’t think the world has experienced anything quite like the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As the saga continues, and as we all delve deeper into the multiverse, we might reflect on a version of ourselves along the way, of what life would have been like without the MCU at the forefront of our entertainment. Somewhere out there, through the cracked glass into another dimension, there must exist such a place.

            And what would a world be like without gods and heroes?

            I honestly don’t care to know.

            Whenever the MCU saga ends (because all things must), I think we’ll look back and think how remarkable it was that there was such a thing that kept audiences coming back to learn about the rest of the story. It reminds me of Homer and all those other great orators that kept audiences glued upon their every word. Who would have thought such a thing could unite, in whatever flavor, a world so easily divided.

            I can’t wait to hear the rest of the story.

***

  1. “Shotgun” by Anna of the North and Hver gang vi møtes
  2. “Ride or Die” by Hippo Campus
  3. “DANDELION” by ill peach
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