Confessions

About Me

My name is Michael Connor.  That’s not my real name.  It’s a pseudonym.

I don’t mind so much if people discover or read this blog.  But maybe I do.  I haven’t decided yet.

To be honest, I am over forty.  Quite a bit over, but it doesn’t feel real to me, yet.  I’ve spent too much time working too hard and I don’t know what it’s added up to.  I never married and don’t have a family.  My own parents, brother, and sister are all over forty, and I worry about them.  So, what is this blog all about?

To a great degree, my life has become too much of just three things: work, store, home.  Repeat.  The weeks go by and I don’t know what they add up to.

This blog is an attempt to make my life mean more.  Perhaps through crazy means.

Several years ago, I ran across 52 Things in 52 Weeks: Just a Girl trying New Things.  It is excellent.  It’s about a former law student who decided to try something brand new every single week for a year.  I’ve wanted to do this, too—even though I think it will be very hard for me.

In any case, the benefits of trying 52 things in 52 weeks appear awesome to me!  Here are a few:

  1. Check out her list of 250+ things she’s already done, and/or wants to try.
  2. She gains skills.
  3. She has stories to tell. Hilarious stories. Dramatic stories.  Stories of boom.  Stories of fizzle.
  4. Who knows where this quest might lead her?
  5. She obviously inspires many people with her popular blog.
  6. She doesn’t feel compelled to go base jumping, wing-walking, or cage-fighting every week. Some weeks, her activities are tame. She baked an apple pie because she never did that before.
  7. I hope this will make me into a better teacher, giver, and man.

 

8 to 100.  And I hope to learn why I truly want to do this.  Because are our motives ever truly clear to us?

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Who am I, really?

I am a lifelong teacher.  I’ve taught eleven kinds of college English, six or seven kinds of high school math, American History, a Cold War class, a WWII class, and Personal Finance.

During a decade, I ran 51 marathons.  (Each was 26.2 miles.)  And 500 half-marathons—roughly one a week.

I’ve written a few novels.  For four of my classes, I wrote four nonfiction books.

My dreams for my life?

* Marry the right lady and help her be happy, holy, healthy, and striving.

* Write compelling novels.

* Give permanent gifts.  For example, in the Spring of 2018, I hope to donate $1,000 to my workplace and leave it in a trust for 135 years.  If it grows at 9.5% per year, it becomes a quarter of a billion dollars.

I also want to write a thank you card to every senior I’ve taught at my school.  Last year, I wrote over one hundred.  This year, I am starting earlier and I hope doing a better job of telling great stories of things teens did.  I hope I make them realize: I teach because I want to give gifts that matter forever.  I want to see the light inside of each person, and help them realize that each is the first one of their kind, as Bono says in “Origin of the Species.”

Of course, people 135 years from now won’t care about who left their school money, and in a decade, my students won’t recall a card that maybe they read and discarded.  But it’s a start.  If I give one gift per day, maybe like a weightlifter, I will build up my strength.  Trivial cards today—and next year, who knows?

My name is Michael Connor.  That’s not my real name.  This isn’t Michael Connor’s blog.  It’s a man pretending to be someone named Michael Connor.

 

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Perhaps this is Michael Connor’s picture, January 1, 2018.