Life Lessons Learned from CarTalk

Like many folks who tread the same trails that I trod, I find the radio in my car tuned almost exclusively to one of the local NPR affiliates. I appreciate balanced news coverage, and I enjoy human interest stories, Science Friday, and StoryCorps. Despite the near ubiquity of NPR on my radio, though, almost nothing gets me more excited than to hear those banjo twangs which announce the arrival of Car Talk: Bink bink ba da boinky boink... Few things make me as happy as to hear the chortles of those mush-mouth beantown bozos for an hour. Yesterday, I was, in some ways, saddened to hear about the death of Tom Magliozzi, the older of CarTalk's co-host brothers. While I didn't personally know him, I had begun to feel a kinship through the years that I spent with Tom's voice coming over my radio. His death certainly makes me feel for his family and friends, but also gives me a reason to explore my own feelings about death, life, and radio. As I've begun to look critically at my love for CarTalk, I have to wonder what exactly it is about this show that has struck a chord with me (and so many others) for so long. 

I'm not really a car guy. I guess this should be said. I appreciate my car (Percival). I enjoy looking at classic cars (late 60's Corvettes & Mustangs anyone?), and on those rare occasions at which I have had the opportunity to drive a special car I have always been thoroughly grateful for the experiences. But, that being said, I'm not even going to change my own oil, much less try to do any sort of meaningful repairs. I don't have the tools, the patience, or the willingness to dedicate my time to such a project. So, it's certainly not the cars that draw me in to CarTalk. As I consider, I think what I've always really appreciated about CarTalk are the lessons that it teaches me about life. These lessons rarely come from the life advice dispensed by Click and Clack, funny though it might be, but from the men themselves. Here, then, are CarTalk life lessons worth learning:

1.) Spend your time doing what makes you happy. 

It is simply the case that many, if not most, of us will never have the opportunity to have the 'perfect' career. Most of us aspire to something different, perhaps something bigger, something that seems better. While there are certainly times to strive for our desires, and to stretch toward a desired future, our wildest dreams may never come to fruition. Even so, there are many hours in the day (hopefully) beyond the hours that we spend at work. Without being too intentionally self-centered, it is important to ask ourselves, how can I spend my time in a meaningful way? Appearing on the radio once a week was certainly not a career for the Magliozzi brothers (although it certainly didn't hurt), but the whole phenomenon came into existence because they spent a little bit of time doing something that made them happy. Sometimes genuinely meaningful moments come into our lives through otherwise ordinary experiences. 

2.) Always explore the possibilities. 

In some ways, this lesson seems to contradict what I've just written. I genuinely believe that there are many instances in which one's dream career is entirely out-of-reach. Even so, if I've learned anything as I've read about Tom Magliozzi's life over the last day, it's that there is tremendous value in stretching ourselves, in trying something new. When he no longer felt fulfilled by his corporate job, Magliozzi walked away in order to open up a do-it-yourself garage. He may have been one of the lucky ones who seemingly accidentally stumbled into something that he really enjoyed, but even if he hadn't, their just might be value in his seizing the opportunity to try something different. While there are absolutely times when walking away might not be the course of action, there are always opportunities that should at least be considered. This is not a 'once-in-a-lifetime' situation either, life is never about the one thing. The goal of living is never to reach the unreachable star. Look around, see life, enjoy the possibilities. Even if the possibilities don't come to fruition, even if we feel stuck where we are, there is always joy to be found in the world. 

3.) If you're worried about your vehicle's brakes, you probably shouldn't be calling a radio talk-show about it. 

I'm pretty sure this should go without saying. Nobody likes going to the mechanic. Who cares? Brakes are important. 

4.) It's never that bad. 

How many times have I tuned in to CarTalk only to hear callers who think they have major problems just being laughed at by the hosts? In the moment things often seem bad, and that's okay. Often when things seem bad, things are bad. But even when things are bad, there are others who have gone through it and come out the other side. This doesn't make it seem less bad in the present, but this badness should never overcome hope. Hope springs eternal. Also, it's ok to laugh at other people's problems, but you probably shouldn't laugh at their faces. #schadenfreude

5.) Make yourself laugh.

I've always considered myself a comedian. Basically nobody else agrees. I'm cool with that. If I could give advice to any young comedian (read: anybody at all) it would be this, "Make yourself laugh." One of the truly marvelous aspects about CarTalk are the many (MANY) times during which the show comes to a dead stop because the hosts seemingly can't control the laughter that is bellowing out of them. What is interesting about these instances is that the listeners often sit in silence, probably rolling their eyes, because whatever started this hysteria was not really that funny. "Yeah, I get it, it was the ball joint all along..." Yet, even when I roll my eyes, even when I'm not in on the joke, these fits of laughter are among the most magical moments of any given show. Somehow, even when the joke is awful, or entirely non-existent, I find my face warping into a smile. For that brief time (or sometimes not at all brief time) the world stops in the face of sheer delight. The Magliozzis, it seems, do the show for themselves. Just as Andy Kaufman often refused to pander to audience desires and expectations, CarTalk exists in the purest form as two people entertaining themselves. The best performances are never actually performances to begin with. Life is funny. If anybody recognizes this fact, it's likely that others will also recognize it in them as well. Just laugh. Laugh a lot. Laughter is the best medicine (although penicillin isn't so bad).

On Easter Hope

I've recently been thinking a lot about hope. A few months ago I wrote an essay about Joss Whedon (who is awesome). As 'research' for this essay I listened to hours of interviews with Whedon. I was particularly disturbed by this quote, "I think the world is largely awful and getting worse, and eventually the human race will die out... and it'll be our own fault." I was not at all disturbed by the fact that Whedon genuinely believes this, nor even that he would publicly admit to it. What really disturbed me was that my initial response was to agree. Looking around the world, it is difficult not to at least consider the possibility that Whedon is right. Every day there is a new study (unless, of course, we want to pretend that science doesn't exist) which demonstrates the continued, human-enacted, degradation of the natural world. While climate change is always at the forefront of the news, this is hardly the only issue that the continued survival of the world faces. Of course, in addition to being a contributing factor to climate change, air pollution also causes a great number of other environmental and health problems (http://www.epa.gov/airquality/peg_caa/concern.html). The ubiquitousity of plastic is another major problem facing the planet (http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/plastic-not-so-fantastic/ and http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2012/06/20126681156629735.html). Plastics are causing significant problems in the water and on land.

Several decades ago the theologian John B. Cobb Jr. was already asking, "Is it too late?" (http://www.amazon.com/Is-too-late-theology-ecology/dp/0962680737) Even if it wasn't yet too late when Cobb published this landmark book back in the 70s, how much damage has been done since that time? The most depressing aspect of Whedon's ecological outlook is that it is not a simple pessimism, but an absolute hopelessness. Whedon said, "I can't believe anybody thinks we're actually going to make it before we destroy the planet. I honestly think it's inevitable. I have no hope." For Whedon hopelessness is not merely because a zero point has been reached- not just that global ecology has reached a point of no return. Rather, it would appear that Whedon's hopelessness equally stems from a view of the moral breakdown of human society- or at least large chunks of it). Whedon desires to be a catalyst for change, but doubts that humanity is capable of making the necessary change. Sometimes I wonder whether Whedon is right. Sometimes I despair.

Yet, as a Christian theologian, in the midst of the Easter season, I am reminded of the hope of the resurrection. The Easter resurrection is misunderstood if it is seen to only pertain to the future. The resurrection is less proof of a heavenly afterlife than it is a hope-giving inbreaking of heaven onto the present earth. 1 John 1:3 says, "By [God's] great mercy [God] has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ." Although he's not speaking directly of this, or any particular biblical passage, Wendell Berry well summed up this 'living hope' when he said, "Hope is a different hting from optimism. Optimism and pessimism are based on the idea of how things are gonna turn out. Hope is grounded in the present; it's not about the future. It's about the reality of possibilities, this sense of possibility that you can do better. Friends, others give me hope. Hope lives on hope." As is usually the case, Berry offered to me an important reminder. Hope is not a 'hope for...' It simply is. Hope is hope. Hope gives hope. Hope lives on hope. Whedon has no hope for the future, but the future is not where hope lives. Hope lives in the present.

Even when I look at the world and see death, destruction, and devastation, I can look around me and see people who are genuinely living well. (In particular, today I was given hope by two people- Rick Reilly's malaria net campaign through Nothing But Nets, and a college friend, Devin Chesney's newly formed social venture FairWear (you can read an interview with Devin in Forbes magazine here).) It's not only in the big things, or the major ventures either. I can look around and see genuine kindness, compassion, and love in the actions of friends, family, and strangers. I have come to realize that this is where Whedon is simply wrong. The world is not awful, the world is full of hope. Even if the planet is awful, and probably getting worse, and even if this awfulness is due to the actions of (at least subsections of) the global population, the ecological decline (and potential downfall) of the planet is not the whole story. Even if it is too late (which is certainly still an 'if') to reverse the ecological downturn of the planet, people choose living hope, and that gives me hope. Throughout the Easter season and beyond it is my goal to choose hope, or, to put it in the words of Wendell Berry, to 'practice resurrection'.

On Daylight Savings

It's the worst.