Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #136: Expensive Soup, Goodbye Dolly, Finally Caught, etc.

1. I have heard of things being marked down in a store, but this one takes the cake. While in a supermarket, I was looking for soup to have with dinner. Of course there are loads of ‘New Low Price’ stickers everywhere. They don’t mention that first they had to jack the costs up a ton, so the low prices are still probably above where they should be. Anyway, I noticed one particular markdown that caught my eye. It was a Campbell’s soup, now marked at $3.99. The old price? $21.99. For soup? Unless it’s made with fresh lobster mixed with real gold, I couldn’t imagine any soup being that expensive. Honestly, I think it was a mistake, but still I had to grab a photo of it so nobody would think I was telling tall tales. You know, like seeing a three-foot garter snake but telling everyone it was a fifteen-foot boa constrictor? Not that I’ve ever told anyone that.

That's some markdown

2. Sometimes workouts wipe you out, and you know it immediately. Sometimes they are sneaky and leave you a puddle after you’re done. This week I had a shorter day at work. Since there literally is a gym attached to the office where I train people, I figured why not just use that instead of driving somewhere else. When I exercise at my work gym, it typically ends up being option overload. I have unobstructed access to almost anything I could want for training. This time it was lots of kettlebells, BOSU, cable machine, and such. I worked every major muscle and even threw in some HIIT cardio while I was at it. Good job for thirty minutes. I got done and had barely broken a sweat, so I figured I hadn’t gone as hard as I did. The joke was on me; before I had even gotten into my car, my body felt like it was turning to dust. All I wanted to do was go home and collapse in a heap on the floor, but I had to stop at the store. If I could have lain on the floor and slept, I would have. The best workouts are when you feel you didn’t do enough but in reality did more than enough. I’m sure some of you are saying the best workouts are none at all. That is a perfectly fine choice as well.


3. One of the banes of my existence during the warmer months is woodpeckers. I am kidding; it’s not that bad, but they do become annoying. Obviously, if you just look at their name, you know this bird loves to peck at wood. Every year they return and choose the areas on the other side of my walls to hammer away at. What do you do to stop them? I’ll bang on the other side of the wall to scare them off, but what if they don’t get scared? I was hitting the wall, and the dang woodpecker just kept going. There was only so hard I was going to pound on the wall. I could just imagine me putting a hole in the wall trying to scare a bird. I mean, how do you explain that to someone? If you say you were trying to scare away woodpeckers, they might just call the nuthouse to come and get you. You’d almost be better off saying it was roid rage or something like that. In the end, the woodpecker got tired of annoying me, I guess, and went away. The only thing worse than a woodpecker attacking the walls is when they do the same thing to the gutters. Then it goes from a dull thud to a jackhammer that never ceases to give me a mini heart attack when it happens.

It was one of these that was the culprit.

4. Live your life in a way that, when you pass, hundreds of millions of people feel like they have lost a loved one. That is the sentiment I get when looking around social media after the death of music icon and humanitarian icon Dolly Parton at the age of 80 this week. She is someone whose music touched generations, but whose contributions to society in general touched so many more. She made life better for countless people whom she never met. I have been reading dozens of stories from celebrities and ordinary people about their interactions and connections to Dolly. I am preparing a blog post to go more in depth, but I will quickly summarize mine. When dealing with a crisis of confidence or uncertainty about where I am going in my life, I look for inspiration and direction. I tend to look toward not just people who have been successful, but people who have been successful and, on top of that, a good person. Numerous Dolly Parton quotes have made the rounds in my life during the last several years. The biggest one in particular is her quote: “If you don’t like the road you’re walking, start paving another one.” I felt that, as I have always felt like there was something beyond just a (no pun intended) 9-to-5 job. I have been trying to create my own path for years, and that quote reassures me each time I read it. I think there are very few people who were as universally loved and admired as Dolly Parton. Her death, even though she was 80, has stunned the world. But I circle back to the top. I feel like I am part of the largest group of mourners ever. Hundreds of millions of us feel like we lost someone special even though the vast majority of us never met her or even saw her in real life. There will never be another like Dolly Parton. Rest in peace to the Queen of Country. We will always love you.



5. I want to piggyback on that last entry. There are many celebrities, in particular musicians, who have inspired me with their work. Sadly, when you’re working on creating your own path, you sometimes forget to give thanks to those who inspire you to carry on. Such as it was with Dolly Parton. It was like after hearing of her death, I remembered all of the times that I read quotes of hers that seemed to bring clarity to my mind. I should have put it out in the universe, even if it was a social media post that she’d never see. Yes, celebrities don’t need the validation; after all, they have already made it. However, I would know that they lent a hand in my journey even if they never did. This is going to be a kind of catch-all, thank-you purge while it is fresh in my mind, as I don’t want to have a posthumous thank you as I just did for Dolly Parton. Whether working on a creative project or simply looking for answers in a sometimes overwhelming life, these are the artists whose music I have leaned on the most in those times. Thank you so much to: Stevie Wonder, Stevie Nicks, Norah Jones, Dave Grohl, Elton John, Phil Collins, Thom Yorke, Glen Phillips, Bono, Michael Stipe, Sade, and probably more, but those are the people whose words and music have spoken to me above all others. There are certainly more who have since passed on, but I wanted to thank these people while I still have the chance.


6. My life at times feels like two totally different films smashed together. No matter if they make sense, they are jammed into one hybrid. I feel like I am, on one hand, a health-conscious, wise, confident, and driven person. Then on the other hand, I am a self-loathing, terrified person bound to bits of self-destructive behavior. One day this week, it crystallized in a series of events that saw me ping-pong back and forth from fitness to fatness. I began at my day job as a personal trainer. As the day drew to a close, I was hungry and decided that going for a run was not going to happen. I wanted to eat, preferably something bad. That came in the form of a large pepperoni pizza. Oh, don’t get me wrong, it tasted great, but it left me feeling angry, knowing the amount of exercise I’d have to do to burn off what I’d just eaten. A few hours later, I was doing some writing work and felt the urge to go for a walk. So after eating a large pizza I proceeded to go and walk nearly 5 ½ miles on a perfect summer afternoon. I burned over 700 calories. Finally, the day swung totally in the opposite direction again. I got hungry after the walk and couldn’t decide what to have for dinner. My mind was set on cereal. So I went and got a box of cereal to have for dinner. Not a bowl, the whole box. It is wild when I write it down to think about how I swung in such opposing ways in the same day. I was a personal trainer and went for a long walk, burning lots of calories. Yet on the same day I ate a large pizza and a box of cereal. So yes, my life feels like it can be a pair of diametrically opposed films that are crashing into each other. It’s sort of like when you mix two perfect colors of Play-Doh, and it makes some weird color. The weirdest thing is that I kind of enjoy almost having the best of both worlds. I do heavy bouts of exercise when I want to and don’t deprive myself of the foods I like, even if they are way less than healthy.


7. The latest episode of being the fun uncle. I went to my mom’s to visit, and my 7-year-old niece Sylvie was there. We had fun with stuffed animals playing around. Sylvie had this spray-on, leave-in conditioner, and she started spraying the animals and combing their fur. Naturally, she wanted to style my hair by spraying the conditioner in it. The only issue is that I have less than an inch of hair on my head. I don’t need much conditioner. She also grabbed a pen and said she might be able to color in my gray hairs, but that didn’t work. To say I ended up with a lot of that conditioner in my hair would be a huge understatement. I’d say conservatively Sylvie sprayed the bottle 20 times on my head. It was plastered down with it. I left it in the whole time she was there, but once she had gone home, I went straight to the bathroom to try to wash it out. Despite soaking my head with water, I could still feel it hanging on. I guess that makes it a good conditioner. It took a full, hot shower to finally remove all of the conditioner. I did make the mistake of telling Sylvie that in the winter I will have a lot more hair. That means the odds of a follow-up featuring the conditioner are likely, but with even more to slick my hair down.

This is the stuff she used, I'm impressed I found it.

8. I know we were all kids once. I know most of us did dangerous and reckless things when we were kids. I’m assuming that those who are Gen-X like have way more stories and battle scars than a lot of the younger people do. I preface this next story by saying all of this so that I can then say that kids have to be smarter. I was leaving the supermarket one evening this week. I took a back road behind the plaza and through a neighborhood because in the summer it’s way easier than trying to navigate Route 28 (our busiest street on Cape Cod). On this occasion, I was going slow to a stop sign and preparing to turn right down another road. I would say 99 out of 100 times when I hit that intersection, there is nobody anywhere. No cars, no people, just a wide open road. However, I also never assume, so I stopped and waited a moment. Good thing I did. Without warning, and from an area completely shielded by bushes, a kid on a motorized scooter came flying around the corner. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look, just flies right in front of my car. I had no idea that he was there until he flew in front of my car. It was a total blind spot. I am so grateful that I was taking my time because if I had started driving a second or two earlier, I could have hit that kid. I can only assume he goes down that route and never sees a car. I also remember, as a teenager, you feel you’re invincible until something comes along to slap you in the face. I shouted a few words at his stunned face and then went on my way. I am glad I didn’t end up being his wake-up call to be more careful, or something worse.


9. This week I finished the series Glitch on Netflix. It was another in my run of sci-fi, supernatural, suspenseful shows. Yes, I guess I have a type. The series is from Australia and has 18 episodes, which are divided into 3 seasons. The gist of it is a group of people returns from the dead, literally crawling out of their graves. The show is then trying to figure out why they came back looking normal and healthy, and also the ramifications of their return. I won’t spoil anything but will say it actually has a happy ending despite it being totally different than what I expected. One thing totally unrelated to the plot of the show has to do with the recent trend on streaming platforms of original shows having incredibly small numbers of episodes counting as a ‘season.’ 6 episodes is a season? Even 8-10 is weak. I guess growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, when TV shows had 20 or so episodes in a season, I have been spoiled. Attention spans and commitment levels are a lot shorter in the 2020s. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t matter much when you’re binging a show that has already run its course, but I have a few shows that are still currently going, and having to wait a year or more for another handful of episodes is pretty lame. I’ll still do it, but yes, I will complain about it along the way.

10. Well, it only took 9 months, but Netflix finally realized I was getting all of their shows ad-free when my subscription was the low tier with ads. I had wondered if they would ever catch on. I mean, I certainly wasn’t going to write to a multi-billion dollar corporation and tell them I was getting a higher tier than what I was paying for. In December, when I got Netflix back, I noticed after a few days I hadn’t seen one ad during my time on the platform. Weeks turned to months, and I almost started taking it for granted, expecting that they might have forgotten about me. This week I was watching something when all of a sudden an ad popped up. Then, maybe ten minutes into the show, a full-on ad break came on. I was sad for a moment, but hey, I had a good run with ad-free Netflix. Besides, I grew up in the times when you couldn’t skip commercials; they were just part of the experience. I guess if I was a kid who had only known streaming, I might be upset. I’m old, though; I can deal with a few ads with my shows. It’s just like the 90s all over again. Well, except my knee doesn’t get sore because of playing sports; it gets sore because it’s Tuesday.


11. As things ramp up for going on location to film The Cabin next week, I have gotten to enjoy recording some scenes with friends that I cast in the movie. First, it cuts down on the search for people to play the roles. Second, it allows me to thank them by giving them roles in the film. Two scenes were audio-only, as they will be telephone calls in the film. A third was a fake Zoom call. The audio scenes went pretty seamlessly. In the end, I decided that it might be better to do the fake Zoom call in person, just in case anything went wrong. Boy, I was lucky I did. There were a few minor mishaps when it came to lighting and sound that would have been harder to try to solve from the other end of a computer. Plus, if you’re on Zoom, you only get something like 45 minutes of video time before it shuts down. I could have just imagined needing to spend most of that time fixing technical issues only to have Zoom kick us off as we finally got going. In the end, we got it all to work and got the scenes shot. It was the final thing I could do on Cape Cod for the film before heading off on location in a few days.

Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #134: Overheated, Old Friends Reunion, Substitute Event, etc.

1. Who would have thought that walking over 10 miles in 100-degree heat would have some lingering effects on the body? As you might remember, in last week’s blog I did the walk I just mentioned while waiting for my car to get some work done. I slowly cooked myself over the course of a 3-hour walk. Now, over the weekend things seemed normal. I didn’t have anything to do, so I was sitting around relaxing. As soon as I got back to my day job and actually had to do things, I realized just how wiped out my body was from that walk. I was physically exhausted. If I could have laid down and slept on the floor of the gym, I would have. The best part is that I have to go get a little more work done on my car this week and very likely will do some sort of walk again. Don’t worry though, it won’t totally be like deja vu. It is supposed to be at least a few degrees cooler, with a lower heat index of around 85 instead of 101. I will still bring everything I need, but rather than walking 10 miles will probably go down the street to my friend’s bike shop and bother him until my car is finished.


2. With so many oars in the water when it comes to my life, it can be hard sometimes to know which ones will actually move my boat and which ones are merely decorative. I look at where I am putting my energy and effort and wonder what my return on investment truly is. I have so many projects I am working on. Podcasts, books, events to go along with those books, producing my first feature film, these are all important and satisfying. However, I guess the bottom line for me, and I am sure many of you reading, is to be financially secure. Yes, I have these projects I pour my heart and soul into, but at the end of the day I still need to work a day job to pay my bills to allow me to pursue these projects. In life, you don’t always get obvious answers. I wish it were in black and white which road to take, but it’s not. A lot of life is moving in the direction you think is right and hoping that there isn’t a cliff around the next corner. It is one part exhilarating and one part terrifying to have so many potential options lying ahead of me. Any one of these projects could suddenly blow up into a life-changing career. Then again, none of them could. There is no guarantee, and that is the risk I take. You only get one life. The best you can do is live it to the best of your ability, doing what you believe is right. Still, I wish there was a big flashing neon sign with an arrow pointing me in the right direction. Funny how, even as I near 50, I still look at my life as a puzzle I am still in the process of building. It’s the perfect storm of fear and freedom.


3. It’s funny how certain events remain vivid in your mind, but to others they are forgotten or at best a blur. One such event came up when chatting with my buddy Steve this week. During a trip over to Nantucket in 2014, we ended an amazing day with a stop at Cisco Brewers. I had finished up much of my research for a travel book I was writing about Nantucket, and it felt like the perfect cap on that chapter. We each got a beer. I got an IPA in a plastic cup. At this point, I had, I believe, an iPhone 6. I took a few photos of the bar and surroundings, including one that I thought was artsy, with the beer in the foreground and the Cisco sign above the bar in the background. Since Steve is a skilled photographer who taught me a lot of what I know, I wanted to show him the photo for his approval. I also wanted to actually drink my beer and not just leave it as an ornament on the bar. I turned around to him with the phone, but the hand with the beer hit the raised lip on the edge of the bar. The beer, in turn, spilled everywhere. I did manage to save maybe half of it, but it was a hugely embarrassing moment. People around must have thought I was already ‘three sheets to the wind’ as my Nana used to say. I believe Steve said the photo was good, possibly to make me feel better. The rest of the time at Cisco went off without incident. It still ended up being a great day, but going full circle, that moment with the beer Steve has no recollection of. I told him I think I stored it as trauma, which is why I remember it in vivid detail.

The infamous photo in question

4. I mentioned earlier about all of the projects I have going on. There can be a sense of uncertainty over the path I am currently on. Obviously, there are no guarantees, and anything worth having is worth risking something for. I do often try to look for subtle signs or hints that I am on the right path. I got a good one this week. While driving to work on a beautiful morning, I opened all of my windows and my moonroof to get as much of the sunlight in. I was on the road when, out of nowhere, a ladybug came in through my roof and landed on my right arm. It was surprising, to say the least. I extended my right arm out, and the bug sat there for several seconds while I drove. You can believe whatever you choose, but I know that in many cultures ladybugs are seen as signs of good luck, wealth, and protection. Just as quickly and randomly as it landed on me, it was gone again. If it had only lasted a minute longer, I would have been in a parking lot and could have gotten a photo. Oh well, it made me feel a little more secure about the road I am on.


5. This week I had an event that could have easily gone sideways. The Cape Cod Maritime Museum in Hyannis reached out to me last week. They had an event Thursday of this week, and their speakers had dropped out. They said I came highly recommended and asked if I could step in. I have learned that when it comes to opportunities, you say yes and figure things out later, so that’s what I did. I had one week to craft a totally new presentation. It ended up being what it was like to have a summer vacation on Cape Cod in 1926, a century ago. There was a lot of research and hours spent putting together a suitable presentation and copious notes. Despite being really happy with my work, I knew that there could still be issues. People had ordered tickets for a certain event. What if they didn’t want to keep their tickets to see me? I was cautiously optimistic but still keeping in mind that it might not be as good as I’d hoped. Boy was I wrong. Not only did people keep their tickets, but the event was sold out, with people waiting on standby just in case seats opened. The Maritime Museum holds events in a really neat, rustic downstairs library overlooking the harbor. It was so packed with chairs that I was wedged in a corner behind a podium. In the end, the event turned out to be one of the best I’ve ever been a part of. It went so well that the staff is already setting up a return event for January. I left the museum feeling grateful, validated, and a bit overwhelmed at the support I got.



6. This week was also the second half of the exhaust repairs on my car. For those who didn’t read last week’s blog, I brought my car in to get the loud noises of my exhaust fixed. It turned out there were a lot of leaks and weakened pipes and joints in the exhaust system, thanks to New England winters. It took six hours before I got my car, and even then I was told there was more that needed to be done. Technically, it might have been finished last week, but there was a chance that it might not have been finished by closing time. If so, I would have had to leave my car there over the weekend, which wasn’t going to work. So here we were at part two, deja vu. Again, I dropped the car off and started a long walk on the bike trail. This week the weather was a little cooler and a lot less humid. It made the 9.5 miles I walked feel like a breeze compared to cooking myself over 10 miles last week. It didn’t take as long for my car to be finished. When I got back to the mechanic, he started going over new things that needed to be fixed when they started trying to fix other exhaust issues. In my mind, the dollar amount kept on climbing. My wallet was whining like a scared dog in my pocket. Then I got the bill. After all of the things they did to repair my failing exhaust, it was still several hundred dollars less than I anticipated. My stress level dropped, and I was once again thrilled with the folks at Ormon Automotive in Harwich. I will never bring any car anywhere else for repairs. They are always thorough, fair, and trustworthy. If you find a mechanic where you feel respected and taken care of, you don’t ever let that go. One thing to know, though, their sparkling reputation means that you need to call a week or so ahead to get your vehicle in. Just a heads up.


7. It is always a blessing to get to see old friends of more than 35 years. This week I was lucky enough to not just see one, but three. First was Barry, who I’ve known for forty years. I hadn’t seen him in person in close to three years. His wife, Rachel, is an accomplished author and someone whose dedication to the grind I really respect. She was part of a festival a few towns over, and I was able to go and hang out under their tent for a few hours. It was a fun mix of catching up on life but also chatting and brainstorming ideas as far as promoting and marketing our work. Anytime I can spend more than a few moments with Barry, it’s like the perfect hit of dopamine. It’s all of my beloved childhood memories rushing back. But it’s also a shot of inspiration when looking toward the future. It’s funny because it always seems like we can catch up pretty quickly, but we also both end up admitting to needing to catch up more often. Each time I feel like we’ll actually follow up on that declaration. We’ll see if we do this time.


8. Second was a meeting nearly 35 years in the making. I have known Tim and Hasan since 1989. I actually met them both within weeks of each other. Despite my having seen each of them several times in the last few years, it had been since 8th grade that the three of us were in the same place at the same time. We met by the pool at one of Tim’s motels on a perfect summer afternoon. It was as if time had just skipped from 1992 to that moment and we were right back to being teens. Hasan’s son Elijah, who just turned ten, was a fun ball of energy and has been raised so well by his dad, but I am not surprised. We all sat around and talked about old times, people we hadn’t seen in ages, and a lot about life as guys creeping toward fifty. It was the first time I’d swum in a pool in years. I loved every second of it and didn’t want it to end, but Elijah was getting hungry, so that was the cue. I hope to see Tim once more before he closes up the motels and heads back south. We all did make very early plans for next summer with the possibility of inviting more people. I truly am blessed and lucky for the friends I’ve made in my life.

A summer afternoon by a pool is always good.

9. The show du jour this week for me from Netflix is The Four Seasons. I took a bit of a break from the suspense, supernatural, scarier shows that have made up the majority of my viewing habits. This is a comedy-drama, dramedy? It features Tina Fey, Steve Carell, and Will Forte, among others, as middle-aged couples and their friendships and how they evolve. The show will have a pair of episodes as a season, ie: spring, and when each of the four seasons is done, that’s a season of the show. So far, there are two seasons with eight episodes in each. I love the humor that is also mixed with real-life issues that anyone can relate to. For me, the standout of the show, though, is Colman Domingo, who cracked me up with virtually everything he said. I only knew him from Fear the Walking Dead, so to see him as a funny, sassy, smart-ass gay man made the show even funnier. The best part is that it got picked up for a third season. The only downside is having to wait until some time next year to watch it. Don’t worry though, I have already jumped back into my typical psychological and suspenseful stuff as I just began Glitch. More on that when I finish it.

10. When I was at my peak as a distance runner ten years ago, I had a very low resting heart rate. According to the American Heart Association, the average resting heart rate is somewhere between 60 and 100 beats per minute. 100 beats per minute is in the average zone? That sounds crazy to me. When I was distance training, though, my resting heart rate was routinely right around 40 bpm. When becoming a personal trainer, I remember doing heart rate readings with a partner. Mine popped up at somewhere in the low 40s, and my partner had never seen a heart rate that low and assumed something was wrong with the heart rate monitor. Then I said I was a marathon runner, and it all made sense. Years passed; hip issues made distance running, and sometimes running in general, a memory. My resting heart rate, while still good, in the high 50’s, was nowhere near what it was at my peak. Flash forward to this summer. With better training habits to deal with my hip, I have been able to slowly increase my running distances. As you already saw, I did a 9.5-mile walk this week, and a 10-mile walk last week in the heat. Amazingly, the last six weeks or so of exercise has done wonders for my resting heart rate. When just sitting and watching something on TV, I happened to check my Fitbit. It showed my heart rate at 42 bpm. That’s right in line with my peak as a distance runner. The only thing is I am not a distance runner. In fact, I typically only run a half-mile or so before stopping to do some walking. So what’s up? I think that my body is just remembering how it used to be, and getting back to that lower resting heart rate is muscle memory. My goal now is to continue increasing my running to see if I can drop that resting heart rate into the 30’s, safely, of course.

Sunset at Englewood Beach in West Yarmouth, MA

Say Yes, And Figure It Out Later: An Unexpectedly Wonderful Event

Say yes, and figure it out later. That is a phrase I have heard a lot over the years when it comes to opportunities in life. Typically it refers to a job, but for me it refers to a speaking event.

This week I was part of an event that could have easily gone sideways, and in the back of my mind I figured it would. The Cape Cod Maritime Museum in Hyannis reached out to me last week on Tuesday. They had an event scheduled for Thursday, August 13th. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, their speakers dropped out. One even said something like, ‘I’m old, I just can’t.’ That’s a great way to honor your commitments.

I received an email asking if I could step in on short notice. I wouldn’t be giving the same presentation as the people who bailed, though. I was asked to create something.

I hesitated, but when they said that Don Wilding, who I consider the gold standard of Cape Cod history, recommended me, I was in. I didn’t want to disappoint him, the maritime museum, or the people who had already spent money to buy tickets for the event that night.

So I said yes, but that left me with an issue: I had one week to craft a totally new presentation. They gave me a bit of leeway. The only parameters were that it needed to fit into the Roaring Twenties motif of their lectures during the summer of 2026.

Luckily, a few years ago I had crafted a video about what it was like to have a summer vacation on Cape Cod a century ago. That was for 1923, but it was not that much of a leap to change things up for 1926.

Although I had the subject, I still needed to do a lot of research and spend hours putting together a suitable presentation and copious notes. I needed to make sure the talk included details about specific Cape Cod places from back then, like restaurants, hotels, and events of the time. By the time I was done, I had forty slides in the presentation and 3,000 words worth of notes.

Despite being really happy with my work, I knew that there could still be issues. I felt good about what I would be speaking about, but would it matter? People had ordered tickets for a certain event. Now that it had been changed to something totally different, what if they didn’t want to keep their tickets to see me? What if sales of tickets for my presentation were terrible?

I have written ten books. I have spoken at many dozens of events over the years. Even at my highest of highs, I still get imposter syndrome. It’s that voice in the back of my head that tells me that I don’t deserve good things, or success, or love, or happiness, or whatever. It’s a fear of being found out or exposed even though it's usually totally unfounded.

It was too late by the time August 13th rolled around. I had committed to the event and done the work of creating the presentation. I would not bail like the other people had. I remained cautiously optimistic but still kept hearing in the back of my mind that it might not be as good as I’d hoped.

The drive to the Cape Cod Maritime Museum was a wash of summer traffic and a passing severe thunderstorm. Would the weather play a factor in turnout?

I arrive at my events forty-five minutes early. There was an event at the Cotuit Library years ago where I got stuck in traffic on the way and arrived five minutes before my start time. I walked in, and the people were waiting. It already looked bush league.

Then, on top of being nearly late, the cables to connect my laptop to the projector were malfunctioning. It was a nightmare. In the end, I believe I started speaking fifteen minutes late. I vowed to never let that happen again, and it hasn’t.

The staff at the museum were so grateful to me for stepping up. I had never been inside, so I loved getting a behind the scenes tour. Anybody who enjoys boats, sailing, maritime history, anything like that, I highly recommend visiting.

Naturally, because I was so early, everything was set up in record time with no hiccups. My cautious optimism turned to overjoyed excitement when I got the news. Not only were the pre-sale ticket people coming, but the entire lot of seats was sold out. On top of that, there was a standby list of people waiting just in case seats opened up. That’s right, my event had a waiting list. It was a first-ever for me.

I set up my books on a table and gathered my notes on a clear hard-plastic podium. One by one, staff members came up and thanked me for being there. I admit I felt a little pressure, wanting to be worthy of all of the praise.

Once the setup was done and all of the pleasantries exchanged, all I had to do was wait. The Maritime Museum holds events in a really neat, rustic downstairs library overlooking the harbor. It was so packed with chairs that I was wedged in a corner behind the podium.

While awaiting the people, I looked around. In an interesting twist, the very first book I spotted was one about Gurnet Point in Plymouth. It’s meaningful because my buddy Steve’s family has had a cottage out there for a century. I snapped a photo to send to him later.

That was another interesting shift. I tend to take a few photos or videos before the event to share on social media. On this day I didn’t have time. People began coming down the stairs, and it was showtime.

This was a History on Tap event, so Cape Cod Beer donated some drinks for people to enjoy. I had a nice lemon seltzer. August 13th was my 2,162nd day alcohol-free, with my 6th ‘Soberversary’ coming September 12th.

People filed in with their plastic cups of beer or wine and stared at the title slide for the event. Not wanting to just stand there, I engaged with people sitting nearby. Slowly the seats filled, and voices echoed off the old wooden floors and walls.

I was mic’d up, but only for the recording of the event for the museum and not to be heard over the crowd. Having come up in the restaurant industry, I had learned how to project my voice, so being heard has never been an issue.

As we began, there might have been an empty seat or two, but it was a nearly full house of somewhere between fifty and sixty people. So they had shown up. Now it was up to me to be worthy of their time and money.

Yes, I might have needed to basically read my notes like a script, but I spoke of Olde Cape Cod for forty-five minutes. I loved hearing the sounds people made at each new slide. Some featured old photos and postcards of places they either remembered or had heard about.

When I finished my talk and asked for questions, the applause echoed off the walls. It had gone better than I could have hoped for. The Imposter Syndrome retreated, at least temporarily. I also realized that saying yes to something a bit out of your comfort zone is good. While it is good to keep the worst-case scenario in mind, it also rarely ends up happening.

I answered questions for another twenty minutes, never wanting it to end. After the event unofficially ended, people came up to buy books, thank me for stepping in, and overall wish me well. I felt validated.

I have always been an introvert. Writing books forced my hand into becoming a public speaker. People are usually shocked when I tell them that after an event. Now I have confidence while speaking; it tends to be everything else surrounding the event that gets into my head.

The guests made their way upstairs, or into the next room to see some genuine boat building going on. Soon it was just the three remaining staff members and me. The event had not only drawn in regulars, but it had brought in people they said they’d never seen come to a lecture. I will stay grounded and say it was the interesting topic rather than the interesting speaker.

As things began getting put away, the staff at the museum asked if I’d want to come back and do another presentation. Of course I said yes.

The plan now is to do an event in January. It is likely going to be a return to the Lady of the Dunes murder case that was such a huge part of my life a few years ago. For that one, I will not need to create a whole new presentation.

In the end, the event turned out to be one of the best I’ve ever been a part of. I left the museum feeling grateful, validated, and a bit overwhelmed at the support I got.

Driving along the busy Route 28 as the sun began going down on a warm summer night, I felt the urge to stop somewhere. I chose Englewood Beach in West Yarmouth. It was, and in many ways still is, the spot I most associate with my Nana.

I felt like being in that setting, reveling in such a successful event, and in a small way sharing the good vibes with my Nana. Sure, the stress and worry felt a bit pointless after the fact, but you never assume anything until it’s over.

That’s a little look at what ended up being one of my favorite events of my writing career. It shows that sometimes you just need to say yes and figure it all out after. It also gives me growing confidence that if I do say yes, things will turn out as good as or better than you might expect.

Wait, Did I Just Almost Get Robbed?: A 1990s Summertime Tale

Wait, did I just almost get robbed?

That was the thought that was swirling through my head after one of the strangest encounters of my teenage years. The answer was, maybe? I guess?

For this story, we need to take a trip back to the good old days of the 1990s. The summer of 1995, to be more specific. It was nearing the end of the summer, at least the part of the summer where kids were out of school.

I was seventeen years old and getting ready to begin my senior year of high school. Being that it was the 90s, and I was a nice, responsible young man, I had already been working during the summers for the last five years.

Granted, I wasn’t raking in loads of cash as a dishwasher and food prep boy, but it was good enough that I was looking to secure a little bit of a status symbol. No, it wasn’t a car, or some fancy sneakers, or anything like that. What I wanted was something different. I wanted something to show off my minuscule financial wealth to my friends. I wanted an ATM card.

ATM cards, debit cards, whatever you want to call them, had been popular since the 1980s. Before then, you had to go inside the bank and write a slip and go to a teller to withdraw money.

Being an introvert, having a way to get money from my bank account without having to talk to anyone was a dream come true. The bank I had my account through was Cape Cod Bank & Trust. They went out of business after being bought in a merger in 2004, to show how old I am.

Typically if I was out riding bikes with my friends, I’d stop at a CCB&T ATM so I wouldn’t incur a ridiculous user fee. However, for this story I would have had to have gone in the opposite direction to where I wanted to go to find a branch. I decided the dollar surcharge, which I believe is what it was at the time, was worth it.

It was later in August. The sun was setting around 7:30pm on Cape Cod. I wanted to get some money from the ATM and then hit up the nearest convenience store for some surely healthy snacks. It was probably some bottles of Jolt Cola to fuel late-night outdoor adventures.

My friend Rob came along. It was getting close to dusk. We had been having fun messing around after dinner, so we started off from my house later than we should have. Our neighborhood was always quiet, so we rode right down the middle of the road as the streetlights began popping on over our heads.

At this time in 1995, the nearest ATM I knew of was a branch of Cape Cod 5 located on the outer edge of a shopping plaza near a highway entrance. The ride to that ATM was roughly 1.5 miles. We were in the parking lot in a little over ten minutes.

The bank in question.

Rob and I laid our bikes in the grass. This ATM was an indoor one. I had to slide my card into a reader to get the door to open after hours. Being teenage boys, neither of us looked around as we did this.

I slid my card through; the door beeped, and we both entered. I was laughing at something funny that Rob had said. I wish I could remember what it was. Suddenly the laughter was cut short by banging on the door.

We both spun around, and standing at the glass door was a man. It was hard to tell how old he was, as the light was brighter inside the bank than outside, so he was silhouetted. What was for sure was he was trying to get in.

He banged on the door again, and this time he began shouting.

“Access the door!” He screamed. Rob and I were both confused and scared. I believe one of us shouted, ‘What?’ This only angered this guy more. “Access the door!” The man shouted again.

This was 1995. Neither Rob nor I had cell phones. There were payphones nearby, but this would have meant having to go outside and past this stranger who was furiously trying to get inside with us.

We needed one of these inside the bank.

Looking back, I don’t know what the best course of action would have been. Fear took over a little, and I foolishly opened the bank door to let this person in.

Why was he there? Because he believed that we were thieves who had somehow stolen someone’s ATM card and were now going to use it to steal their money.

How do I know that? Because he said as much as he angrily demanded that I give him my card. That was a bridge too far. I refused and told him it was mine as he accused me of being a thief.

This man had to be over fifty. I have no idea where he had been or what led him to think that pursuing a pair of teenage boys into a bank after hours was a good idea, but it was irrelevant at that point. We were trapped as he stood looming over us.

“I’m going to watch you as you make this transaction,” the angry man said. I think he thought he was calling my bluff. Rob stayed facing the man while I turned my back. I punched in my code, hiding it from the man.

I believe I withdrew ten dollars. The machine spat out the cash. I quickly grabbed it and stuffed it into my wallet along with my card again. At this point I turned around and faced the man.

Seeing that it was indeed my ATM card and that we weren’t thieves, he muttered ‘ok’ or something dumb before getting out of there as fast as he could. He must have had an epiphany of how the whole situation looked and knew he had screwed up.

Rob and I waited a minute or two before stepping out into the darkness. It was a beautiful, if humid, night on Cape Cod. We were thrilled that the lunatic hadn’t done any damage to, or stolen, our bikes.

I can’t remember what exactly we said to each other after, but I am sure it was something along the lines of ‘what the hell just happened?’ We had gone to grab a little cash for a snack run and ended up in the middle of a scene from America’s Most Wanted.

Teenagers are resilient though. We hadn’t been hurt. We hadn’t been robbed. So we chalked it up to some idiot thinking he was going to be a hero but ended up being a complete jackass.

We still did our snack run. We returned to my house, and there were a few other kids around. In the 1990s and in that neighborhood, darkness didn’t mean everyone went inside. Rob and I dropped our bikes in the wood chips at the very edge of the front yard near the quiet street.

Loads of bikes in the front yard were common in the 90s

The retelling of our story likely began with ‘you won’t believe what happened.’ I remember telling the story to at least one of my sisters, maybe one of Rob’s brothers and my brother, and also Mikey, who was down visiting Cape Cod during weekends in the summer as he did back then.

As the years go by and some details, like what we got at the convenience store after, get hazy, I still firmly remember the sound of the banging on the glass door and that guy shouting for us to ‘access the door.’

The other kids looked at us in shock and awe. We had survived a brush with death, or at least we made it sound like we did. It was certainly not an average adventure that I was used to on Cape Cod.

I can’t remember when I told my mother about what had happened. I know that when Rob told his mother, she was livid. She wanted to go to Cape Cod 5 the next business day and ask them to check the security footage to see the guy who had caused this trouble. Nothing came of it, though.

It has been thirty-one years since a man shouted at me to access the door of a dark and relatively isolated ATM. I have never had an experience like that again. I will say that I didn’t go back to that Cape Cod 5 ATM for any withdrawals for many years. It was like I expected that weirdo to be lurking in the bushes waiting for me to come back.

For as much as Rob and I made jokes about that guy after the fact, there is no denying that it was a scary situation while it was happening. Until he vanished into the night, there was no telling how things were going to end.

He could have been an addict trying to get some cash for drugs. He could have had a gun, or a knife. He could have been a whack job looking to get his rocks off by assaulting teenage boys. These were all real possibilities as we stood face to face with an angry older stranger.

Luckily it never got to that. I stupidly accessed the door, and then he watched ominously while I used my ATM card to withdraw some of the money I had earned by working. Then he scurried away after realizing what a stupid mistake he had made.

I do wonder if we had tried, if Rob and I could have beat the hell out of him. It would have been the ultimate irony. This guy thinks he’s going to foil some thieving kids like he’s a Scooby-Doo villain, but we end up not only not being thieves but then whopping his ass.

That Cape Cod 5 location is still in business, and on the off chance I go by there, I can still hear ‘access the door’ ringing in my ears. I wonder what ever happened to that guy? Did he ever tell the story to someone? He probably didn’t. Or if he did, in his version, he thwarted a pair of giant meathead guys trying to rob a little old lady.

I am so blessed and lucky to have grown up when I did. There really will never be another time like the 1990s. It was the last decade where you weren’t bound by technology. When you spent summer outside until the streetlights came on, and sometimes even after.

It was a time I wish I could go back to. A time that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Even if every now and then you had to deal with creepy older guys looking to chaperone your bank visit. But hey, that’s a fair trade for all of the good stuff.

The 90s on Cape Cod were something else.

Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #133: Fresh Grief, Extreme Turtles, Very Long Walk, etc.

1. People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. That Maya Angelou quote is what comes to mind when I think about my Nana Serpa. She was my stepfather’s mother, and she passed away this week after a long bout of failing health. The thing is, I could try to spin it and say ‘at least she’s no longer suffering,’ but that won’t make anyone truly feel better. When a loved one, whether blood or not, dies, they immediately leave a vacuum where all of these unfiltered emotions get sucked into. There is no longer a chance to say things, at least not to them. Nana Serpa was always sweet and kind, and made me feel like family even though we didn’t share a drop of blood. I am heartbroken for my stepfather as he has now lost both of his parents. The one thing I don’t like about being an empath is that when you feel an emotion, it can be a signal to open the floodgates of similar ones. It brings forth in me all of the unprocessed grief I have for several family members and friends who have died in recent years. I then feel bad about feeling bad about others who have long since passed, but it is not something done maliciously. It feels at times like I have a closet packed to the gills with grief. Then when a new batch comes, I try to gently crack open the door and stuff the new grief in without everything spilling out. It never happens. So my sadness over Nana Serpa has invariably led to the sadness returning over my Nina and Grampa, Uncle Eric, Brenda, Matt, and Pete. I guess it is better to feel too much than nothing at all. It shows these people really mattered to you. Rest in peace, Nana Serpa.


2. On most work days, it is pretty straightforward. I come in, train some people, do some paperwork, probably have a few laughs, and go home. It’s not too often that odd things happen. This week we had one such day. I was sitting doing some paperwork after my last client left. To my right, inside the gym, the lights flickered. That happens all the time. There is something faulty with the wiring for the lights in the gym. But then the lights in the therapy room flickered. Within seconds, all the power went out. In the past, the power might have dipped out for a few seconds and quickly come back on. This time it went out and stayed out. The problem was that I had a series of clients all in a row, all on their way. There was no way to let them know, and also no way to know how long the power would stay out. It turned out that a tree had come down on the wires, knocking out power to the surrounding neighborhood. I ended up training three different clients in a dark gym. There was barely any light from windows, but somehow we made it work with nobody getting hurt. I actually found it a fun challenge to do my job with little light and almost total silence. We could actually hear the people who work upstairs talking; it was so quiet. In all, the power was out for just over 2 ½ hours. As fun as the challenge was, I do not wish for any more long power outages at work anytime soon.


3. Sometimes you have to scratch and claw to get opportunities. Sometimes they just fall out of the sky. This week I was lucky enough to have an event get dropped into my lap. The Cape Cod Maritime Museum in Hyannis has biweekly lectures, and one coming up next week saw both of their speakers pull out. As they looked for a suitable replacement, I was recommended to them. I am very humbled and flattered that I was seen as the one to potentially save the day, for lack of a better term. Of course I said yes. The program needed to be in some way connected to the Roaring Twenties on Cape Cod. Lucky for me, I created a video a few years ago about what it would be like to summer vacation on Cape Cod a century ago. Revamping it for 1926 instead of 1923 wasn’t too difficult. The hard part was creating from scratch a new presentation. This meant finding all of the images I needed and creating a few dozen slides to make the presentation worthwhile. I am excited about the possibilities of a totally unexpected event. Maybe I’ll sell some books? Maybe I’ll get booked for more events? Stepping up like this can only do good for my reputation. We’ll see the results next week. This is the video I am basing the presentation on.




4. The latest show that I binged on Netflix was the seven-episode Midnight Mass. This ended up jumping up near the top of my favorites so far. It is a neat mix of two different shows mashed into one in the best way. On a small island located 30 miles offshore, two people arrive on the same day. A man fresh out of jail after serving time for a DUI fatality, and an intriguing priest both arrive and set the tone for the show. It is one part religious beliefs and miracles. Then suddenly you get smacked with supernatural elements that throw you off. It’s really well shot and acted. It’s heartwarming, thought-provoking, and also has its fair share of blood and gore. I highly recommend it. Oh, Netflix, you always seem to suggest things I’ll like.

5. In a true example of what’s old is new again, the rumor going around is that Myspace may be getting set to make a big comeback soon. The owners of the site are possibly working on bringing the original social media giant back to give us what social media used to be. No more algorithm junk. I remember only joining Facebook in 2007 because Myspace was changing in ways that made it less fun. If the owners can bring it back like it used to be, I’d probably turn Facebook into a dead mall. Maybe I’d visit every now and then to see what stores were still there, but my main shopping would be at Myspace. Bring on the Top 8, songs that start playing when you click a profile, and a site not dominated by the algorithm and scummy tech bro billionaires. I’m ready to party like it’s 2005 again.

6. Nothing is done until it is done. That is the lesson I have learned many times. Nothing tends to surprise me anymore. When getting the exhaust work done on my car this week, I was told a certain amount of time was needed. My plan was to go walk the nearby Cape Cod Rail Trail until I was called and told my car was ready. Well, once two hours of walking turned to three, and my phone’s battery was nearly dead, I figured I might want to go back to the mechanic and just check in. In reality, I had walked over 10 miles, and my body was just not going to do anymore. It quit. I spotted my car still on the lift and ended up sitting near the mechanic’s in the shade for a while, hoping it would soon be done. Nope. Now this wasn’t them being lazy; they just found more that was wrong, which I was told could have been possible. It turns out my exhaust is worse than anticipated, but luckily my mechanic is highly reputable and trustworthy. They have built up credibility over the years with me and countless others, which is why they are always busy. I ended up standing in the lobby for an hour chatting with the service tech, who is a super nice guy. I didn’t want to sit since I had been soaked in sweat and didn’t want to ruin their chairs and make the lobby smell like a locker room. In the end, it was nearly six hours until I left with my car. The best part is I need to bring it back next week to have the job finished. The actual best part is the mechanic is going to do some magic to save me hundreds of dollars, so I don’t mind the wait. Tune in next week for Part 3 of my car exhaust repair saga.


7. It was a sweltering, soupy mess of a walk while waiting for my car. I had anticipated 7-8 miles in total. I ended up with just over 10, more than 1,300 calories burned, and clothes that felt like I had showered in them. This was the first time I had done over 10 miles since January 2024. Not ironically, this was the last time I had major work done on my car at the same mechanic. I was smart and packed PowerAde and sunscreen in my backpack so I didn’t worry that much about sunburns or dehydration. Still, more than 10 miles on a day with the heat index over 100 degrees will sap your energy fast. By the time I decided I couldn’t walk anymore, I wished I could call an Uber to bring me to the mechanic. Unfortunately, my phone’s battery was a whopping 5%. The walk overall was fun, all things considered. I had a small lunch due to the time I got my car back. This led to me having over 3,600 calories allotted for my dinner after inputting things into MyFitnessPal. I could have had a medium 3-topping pizza and still been 1,000 calories under my daily goal. Yay, thanks to the long walk and horrible heat!

Looking through a tunnel on the Rail Trail 

8. An unexpected occurrence on my walk was the appearance of a high school class on a trip. No, it wasn’t any Cape Cod school, but students from the Providence Day School. I felt bad that the kids came down to ride the bike trail on a super hot and humid day, but what are you gonna do? I was walking around a rotary on the trail, about 3 miles in, when I noticed arrow signs. They said ‘PDS route to Coast Guard Beach.’ At first I thought they misspelled PMC for Pan-Mass Challenge. Then they started passing me. Dozens and dozens of high school kids on bikes. They were all well-behaved; some said ‘on your left’ as they passed. A few even waved. Here I was expecting a drink to be thrown on me or to get shoved or slapped. I guess that’s what I would have thought if I was a kid again. In the end, there had to have been over one hundred kids that rode by on the way to Coast Guard Beach in Eastham. I don’t know where they started from. I think they parked in Harwich at Brooks Park; sorry to those not from Cape Cod for a lot of specific Cape places. Shoutout to those kids and their teachers at Providence Day School. They were very respectful on their trip, and I hope they had a great time seeing the scenery on Cape Cod.


9. There is a section of the Cape Cod Rail Trail in Harwich that is a haven for turtle crossings. It is about 2.5 miles in from the trailhead on Rt. 134 in Dennis for those curious. I don’t always see them, but the odds are higher there than just about anywhere else on the bike trail. There is a spot where the Herring River goes under the trail and empties into the West Reservoir of Bell’s Neck Conservation area. I don’t know if the waterway under the trail is too small, but turtles end up climbing up the embankment, crossing the trail, and going down the other side into the water. I was nearing 10 miles into my walk when I was going past that spot again. There it was. A juvenile box turtle was attempting to cross the trail. It was maybe 3 inches across at the shell. Not needing an excuse to stop walking, I guided it across the trail, basically shielding it from oncoming bikes. Then I got my video. The turtle crawled to the edge of the stone embankment. I had no sooner made the joke that it was going to jump when there it went, diving over the side. I scrambled to find it. Granted, it was only 3 feet down to the ground from the top of the stone wall, but for a tiny turtle that’s pretty far. I got video of it continuing down the steep hill. It fell and rolled at times, which made it feel more like a Three Stooges episode. Obviously the video will show things better. Don’t worry, it was ok, so you can laugh.




10. Sometimes things just come up Milhouse. That’s a Simpsons reference that some of you might not get. What it’s referring to is a particularly lucky event this week. After having to spend much of one day waiting for my car to get fixed, I had to push some other errands off. This included doing laundry. I wasn’t looking forward to driving on a hot summer weekend to the laundromat. The first bit of luck was realizing that I could throw my laundry in and, while it was going, head across the street to the library and get some work done. It was some abstract multitasking. I got to sit in the a/c and relative quiet and start working on a project. One of the librarians came up to where I was sitting and asked me if I had received the check for my event there last month. I had not even thought about it. In fact, I just assumed that I had done the event for free, except for the books I sold. This was the peak of the luck. Not only was I multitasking while my laundry was going, but now I was essentially getting paid to do work in the library. Sadly, I know if I go to write at any other libraries locally, they won’t be handing me checks, but I can always dream, right?


11. We have reached the halfway point of summer. No, summer doesn’t end Labor Day Weekend, sorry. It ends on September 21st. As of this writing, we are in another hot stretch on Cape Cod and the Northeastern United States in general. Don’t get me wrong, I am lucky and blessed to have access to air conditioning so as not to slowly cook myself in August. That being said, this is also the time of year that I start counting down the days to my favorite time of year. Fall is my favorite season. In fact, as some of you might already know, my favorite time of year is Labor Day through New Year’s. The weather is still good through most of October. There are several birthdays of loved ones, including my own. There are also several amazing holidays to celebrate. Sure, we could get a freak snowstorm before Thanksgiving, but that’s a fair trade for the good vibes I feel during the last third of the year. I don’t hate summer, but it is my third favorite season behind fall and spring. Once the sweltering, humid days break, which is typically later in August, then summer becomes alright. That just happens to coincide with Labor Day, so lucky me.

In My Footsteps Podcast Episode 255: Summer In the 1980s, Invention of Gatorade, 80s TV Show Fails, Marilyn Monroe(8-5-2026)

 

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Remembering 1980s summers. The creation of the sports drink. Some of the biggest 1980s TV show fails.

The dog days of summer begin, and Episode 255 is here to try to keep you cool.

It begins with the creation of the thirst quencher. Sports drinks have been helping athletes and everybody else stay hydrated for six decades. What began as an experiment on the University of Florida campus became a billion-dollar industry on the back of Gatorade. We do a deep dive into the drink that is for that deep-down body thirst.

Summer was different in the 1980s. It was freedom and adventure. It was bikes and dirt and sugar. It was getting out and staying out until the streetlights came on. Let's reminisce about those bygone days when technology was an appetizer and not the main course. When the outdoors called via landline. Let's look at summer in the 1980s.

Not everything was better in the 1980s. The Top 5 will attest to that. We will be looking at some of the biggest TV show fails of the 80s. Horrible spin-offs, ridiculous premises, big stars failing badly, it's all here.

Of course, there is a brand-new This Week In History and Time Capsule, looking at the sad death of Hollywood icon Marilyn Monroe.

To support me and the show, become a member on Patreon. 

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Helpful Links from this Episode

• Buy My New Book, In Their Footsteps!
• Searching For the Lady of the Dunes True Crime Book
• Hooked By Kiwi - Etsy.com
• DJ Williams Music
• KeeKee's Cape Cod Kitchen
• MSFTS Community
• Kingfisher Hotels Cape Cod
• Christopher Setterlund.com
• Cape Cod Living - Zazzle Store
• Subscribe on YouTube!
• Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog
• CJSetterlundPhotos on Etsy

Listen to Episode 254 here