I’m a sucker for stories with surprise endings. Your movie is at eight percent on Rotten Tomatoes? People compare it to a grease dumpster fire? But what’s that you say – at the end you find out that the whole time the bad guy has been…WAIT, WAIT DON’T TELL ME! I’m in for the next two hours!

Unfortunately, I’ve learned that twist endings are not as great in real life as they are in the movies.

My sophomore year of college, I lived with a mild-mannered roommate named Jordan. Jordan was so mild-mannered that if someone were to replace him with a reasonably lifelike mannequin, it might have taken a few days to notice. If my life were a movie, Jordan would be the perfect candidate for a last-minute twist.

Jordan’s one defining characteristic was that he was in a band in high school. He’d remind us of this fact every few days.

“We were pretty good,” he’d say while picking at his guitar in bed.

When nobody would look up, he’d continue.

“We did the Nebraska State Fair last year.”

Silence.

Twang twang twang twang

Zero times that semester did anyone show even a shred of interest in Jordan’s band. That did not stop him from filling us in on every detail.

He shared the band’s name (Skylar Blue).

“Cool.”

He shared the reason for the name (A 10-minute story about a kid named Skylar dying of cancer).

“Cool.”

He shared every song his band had recorded. (Heavenly, Faye and Til Death Do Us Part).

“Cool.”

Every story about Jordan’s band was long and filled with colorful detail. No one cared. No one cared, that is, until the day of The Twist. Continue reading →

The thing I miss least about working in downtown Cleveland is leaving downtown Cleveland. Every day at 5:30, every person in the city crowds onto the same street at the same time to leave Cleveland. As a result, no one gets to leave Cleveland.

Over the years, I learned how to leave Cleveland fast by cutting down alleys and through parking lots and in front of people. I got good. I got cocky. Then on June 3, 2015, I got stuck.

On June 3, I pulled out of my parking garage onto Prospect Ave. and stopped. No matter who I tried to sneak in front of or what parking lot I tried to cut through, I couldn’t get any closer to the freeway. A half hour later, as a last ditch effort to get home before dying of natural causes, I tried to cut down the alley next to the graveyard. That’s when I ran into the cause of my problem.

I could get out of Cleveland just fine on Indians and Cavs game days. But on June 3, someone bigger than LeBron James came to Cleveland. Taylor Swift had taken over my city.

I don’t know much about Taylor Swift. She seems kind of like a nice robot. But on that day, surrounded by minivans full of bedazzled 10-year-old fans, I realized that there was no more powerful robot in the world than Taylor Swift, Inc.

That day reminded me of my one previous encounter with Ms. Swift. It was five years ago, and it was captured on video. I watched it the other day while procrastinating and was struck by how much the two of us have changed over the past five years – Taylor into a sleeker robot with an armada of semi trucks, and me into someone who is mortified by my actions in the video.

On Dec. 7, 2010, Taylor Swift sat down with the Today Show to promote her tour. On the same date, Deserae and I visited New York City to wave in the background of a Today Show interview. We all accomplished our goals that day. Continue reading →

When Deserae and I went to Maui for our honeymoon, my goal was not to relax by the pool or enjoy the ocean breeze or have a romantic time with my new bride. No, I would not rest until we SAW EVERYTHING. That’s how we ended up on a three-hour hike after a full day of driving and sweating on the Road to Hana.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Road to Hana, it is 64 miles of blind turns and one-lane bridges through Maui ’s rainforest. If you make it to the end without dying or divorcing, you win a prize. The road’s best feature is its waterfalls. Because Deserae loves waterfalls (we got engaged next to one), I planned a route that would let us see all 2 billion of them. After eight hours, we’d seen all the waterfalls except one – the 400-foot Waimoka Falls at the end of the Pipiwai Trail. I’d kept this one a secret because I was romantic and dumb.

“I think you’ll like this hike!” I said as we pulled into the parking lot.

Deserae looked skeptical. “Is it long?”

“That’s not important.”

“It’s kind of important.” Continue reading →

They say that you can learn more about a person from a night of poker than a lifetime of conversation. I think that’s true, because on Monday I learned that my grandma is a cold-blooded shark.

The other day, my cousin Leah called to ask if Deserae and I wanted to join her and her boyfriend Andy for a game night with my grandma.

“Yeah, definitely. We have some games – do you want me to bring them?”

“You can, but Andy was going to bring cards and chips for Texas Hold ‘Em.”

“Wait, Grandma knows how to play poker?”

“I don’t think so, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Has Grandma even played poker once in her life?!”

“Dustin, it’s easy to learn.”

“Uhhhhh, I’ll bring Catch Phrase just in case.”

Leah, Andy, Deserae and I showed up at my grandma’s house at 7 p.m. We were also joined by my mom, because my mom sniffed out a game night, and there’s nothing my mom likes better than game night. When we arrived, my grandma informed us that she had never played Texas Hold ‘Em, and also she goes to bed at 8.

We convinced her that it should be OK to push that bedtime just this once and started explaining the rules. “Here are the poker hands,” Leah said as she showed my grandma a cheat sheet she’d pulled up on her phone. “There’s high card, then a pair, then two pair…”

“OK, I think I’ve got it,” my grandma said without looking at the cheat sheet. That should have been my first clue that maybe Grandma knew a bit more than she was letting on. Continue reading →

I make money by buying junk and selling it online. Because of this, I spend a lot of time in checkout lines answering the question, “What are you doing with all THAT?!” Usually when I answer that I sell on Amazon, the cashier gets intrigued and excited. “Oh wow! You need to show me how to do that!”

That is not the reaction I’ve been getting lately. Because Christmas is coming up, most of the junk I’ve been buying lately happens to be toys. And when cashiers ask “Who’s the lucky kid?” or worse “Are you donating all this to charity?” and I tell them that I sell on Amazon, I do not get an “Oh wow!” It’s just “Oh.” Then it’s silence and no eye contact for the rest of the transaction.

Am I the Grinch who stole Christmas? I don’t think so (I’ll stop buying toys a few weeks before Christmas, and stores have been restocking everything immediately after I buy it), but it’s hard not to feel grinchy when I step in front of a small child to clear out half a shelf of Paw Patrols.

To help clear my conscience and use my experience for good, I’ve put together this list of the top toys of 2015. If you’re not sure what to buy the child in your life this year, try one of these hot sellers. You won’t go wrong.

Garbage Truck

Tonka has this whole line of rescue vehicles – police cruiser, fire truck, SWAT helicopter – but its biggest seller by far is the garbage truck. There’s a small but very passionate group of children who LOVE garbage trucks. I believe these kids can only grow up to be one of two things: garbage men or serial killers. Continue reading →

College is a strange place for a thousand different reasons. One of the biggest reasons is that at any given time, roughly 75 percent of the people on campus are procrastinating. And when you procrastinate, you are willing to devote a shocking amount of time and energy toward any activity that is not school-related. Super Smash Brothers, for example. Also elaborate stunts featuring every mattress on the hall. And then there are the pranks.

At no other time in your life do you have the patience, opportunity and animosity toward others that is necessary to pull off Jim Halpert-level pranks.

In a college dorm – especially an all-male college dorm – every day is April 1st. Continue reading →

I have a love/hate relationship with my cousin, Leah. I know this because every time Leah introduces me to someone, she says, “This is my cousin Dustin. We have a love/hate relationship.”

Mainly Leah loves to ask me questions and hates when I tell her to Google the answer.

A few years ago, for example, Leah took up running. She started e-mailing me 50 times a day to ask about running shoes and running form and running music and what to do if her shins hurt because they hurt real baaaaaaaaaaad. Then, suddenly, the e-mails stopped. I wondered what had happened. Did Leah find a new running expert? Had she finally figured things out? Maybe she took my advice to JUST ASK GOOGLE!!!

Nope. Leah didn’t need me any more because she’d found someone else to tell her how to work out. She’d found CrossFit.

CrossFit, if you are unfamiliar, is a new cult.

Ha! Kidding! CrossFit people are touchy, so it’s fun to say things like that once in a while to rile them up. CrossFit is actually a fitness movement that is mainly participants telling everyone they know that they do CrossFit.

Kidding again! Really it’s just a thing where people pay $100 a month for someone to make them do Push-Ups until they puke. Continue reading →

Last week, I wrote about our new puppy, Nugget. At that time, Nugget had been in our home for less than 24 hours. When I wrote that post, I was young and silly and naïve. Way back then, I was worried about holding the dog wrong and getting him to drink and training him to go to the bathroom outside. If Nov. 11 Dustin could step back in time and give Nov. 4 Dustin some advice, he’d tell him to settle down. You’ll figure out how to hold him, Nov. 11 Dustin would say. The dog will drink eventually. And potty training…

…Well, maybe worry about potty training a little.

Don’t get me wrong, potty training is actually going pretty well. I just didn’t realize when we started that potty training is like a game of chess. As long as you can outsmart an 8-week-old animal, you win. The thing is, I’m really bad at chess. Continue reading →

A few weeks ago, you may recall reading about an epic battle that my parents’ dog waged against me and Deserae. Well that was such a great experience, that we decided to do it full-time! On Monday, we brought home a puppy.

The puppy is a cavapoo named Nugget. What is a cavapoo, you may be wondering. Actually, I know you are wondering, because every time I’ve told someone (including the vet) that our dog is a cavapoo, they scrunch up their nose and say “WHAT IS A CAVAPOO?!” A cavapoo, according to the dictionary, is a small, poofy ball of adorable.

Since coming into our house, Nugget has focused all his energy on being as adorable as possible. He constantly carries things far too big for his head. He somehow manages to stay within two inches of your foot at all times without getting crushed. Just now while I’m writing this, he’s begun squeaking in his sleep. How adorable is that?

Unfortunately, I have not been able to fully enjoy these acts of adorableness since I’ve focused all of my energy on not accidentally killing the dog. Continue reading →

Deserae’s parents are wonderful people. They are energetic and happy and generous and loving.

They are not good passengers.

This is something that I’ve discovered over the past two months while driving with them to volleyball games. Since Deserae coaches and her sister plays, I’ve recently spent a lot of time driving all over Ohio with the Neros.

Each trip would start with the same question.

“So what’ll it be? Your car or ours?”

Yikes. Tough choice.

My Car

I don’t know what your goal in life is. Maybe you want to make a million dollars or become CEO or change the world. I want to break even on every car purchase I make.

When it’s time to get a new car, I generally work very hard to find the best deal on the cheapest vehicle money can buy. The idea is to drive the car for a few years, sell it for around the same price I paid for it, then buy another vehicle for that same price. The upside to this strategy is I’ve never made a monthly car payment. The downside is I’ve never driven a car that wasn’t garbage.

The Neros are not the biggest fans of my garbage cars.

A few weeks ago, I pulled into the Neros’ driveway to pick up my in-laws. Deserae’s mom came out of the house holding 50 pounds of junk.

“OK, I think we’re ready,” she said as she dumped it all in the back seat. “I brought duct tape and a flashlight. Al, do you want me to grab you a coat in case you have to help Dustin change a flat tire?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? It’s supposed to rain later.”

“I think Dustin can handle a flat tire just fine.”

“Also,” I interjected, “I think my car will be fine for an hour.”

Silence. I looked in the rearview to catch Deserae’s mom giving the “we’ll see” look. At the first intersection, I turned left onto Webster.

“Oh,” I heard from the backseat.

“What?”

“You’re not going to get on the highway from 82?”

“No.”

“Because if you went that way, you wouldn’t have to double back.”

“Yeah, but Sprague is a lot faster.”

Silence. The “we’ll see” look again.

“Wow!” Deserae’s dad piped up. “You sure do feel every crack in the pavement in this car! You feel that Jackie?”

“What?”

“I said, ‘How’s the suspension back there?’”

“YOU’LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP!”

My muffler has a small hole that makes things pretty loud for people in the back seat.

“I ASKED HOW…”

“WHAT?!!!”

“Never mind.”

Their Car

The next game, I rode with the Neros. Deserae’s dad was shaking his head as soon as I got in the car. “Hope you guys don’t plan on getting there any time soon,” he said.

“Why?”

“Why? Why?! Hohoooo, it’s smack dab in the middle of rush hour, that’s why!”

Deserae’s dad is a police officer who won’t get intimidated by anyone. At work, he will chase down guys twice his size and half his age by foot, no problem. But ask him to venture onto the freeway during rush hour? Big problem. Hopefully, our first child is not born any time between the hours of 7 a.m. and 7 p.m., or he will not be meeting his grandfather for quite a while.

Twenty minutes later we hit a slow down.

“What did I tell you? What did I tell you?!”

Five minutes later, traffic was back to normal.

“Well that’s surprising.”

Then, a crisis.

“I CAN’T FIND MY MAPQUEST!” Deserae’s mom yelled while driving.

“It’s OK, we can just use my phone,” I said.

“I NEED THE MAPQUEST!!”

Jackie Nero is the last person on earth keeping Mapquest in business. She not only prints directions for every trip, but she also prints the maps that go with the directions and occasionally tapes them together if the map is too big for one page. She doesn’t trust GPS.

“In one mile,” Siri said, “stay in the left-hand lane to merge onto…”

“I DON’T LIKE THIS!”

Fortunately, Siri knew where to go. After some trouble with a turning lane (“Hey Al, I just stay in this lane, right?” “No, this is the turning lane.” “I think I need to…” “The sign is right there!” “Okay, okay…” “LOOK WHEN YOU’RE SWITCHING LANES!!”), we arrived at our destination. Lake Erie.

“Why are we at the lake?” Deserae’s dad asked.

“It’s a tradition! I always stop to look at the lake before games at Mentor.”

“Well you can get out, I’m not.”

“Oh stop, I brought your coat.”

We all piled out of the car, walked across the park and looked at the lake. The gray lake blended perfectly with the gray sky.

“I don’t see any boats,” Deserae’s mom said.

“Maybe because it’s 40 degrees, windy and almost night.”

A moment of silence.

“Does anyone want to go down the stairs to get a little closer?”

“NO!!”

—

“So what’ll it be? Your car or ours?”

Maybe I’ll take a boat.

LIFE LESSON #91

Getting there is only sometimes half the fun.