When I was an adolescent, my parents shipped me off to a month-long overnight summer camp for boys. Among the usual group of misfits in my cabin was a boy my age that we nicknamed Stinky. He had one quirky goal: to wear the same shirt every single day of camp.
Predictably, the shirt got dirty and smelly. And to stay in the good graces of his fellow cabin mates Stinky would occasionally wash it. However, given the rough and tumble nature of camp activities, the shirt sustained minor tears and rips. As the days and weeks passed, those rips grew larger. Stinky’s unusual and visible goal, and his dedication to it, made him a camp celebrity. Some campers, knowing his mission, would pull on the tears, trying to frustrate him, and make the shirt unwearable.
By the final week, the garment looked less like a shirt and more like a rag. But Stinky persevered. Despite the damage he kept wearing it. I’m not sure what he did with the shirt after camp, whether he (or his mother) threw it out, framed it, or burnt it, but Stinky (and no one else) owned this accomplishment.
Years later, while listening to an episode of This American Life, titled “The Good Guy Wins,” Stinky’s public act all made sense to me. The segment tells the story of Jonathan who is obsessed with participating in a unusual, low-stakes racing competition against an anonymous competitor. The joy wasn’t in winning, but in participating, doing something that mattered to him, even though it seemed trivial to others.
The story got me thinking about the value of “silly” goals—those personal challenges that might seem pointless to others but carry deep meaning for the person pursuing them.
For Stinky, it wasn’t simply about wearing a deteriorating shirt, nor was it some pre-punk rock fashion statement, nor was it a quiet rebellion against contemporary norms. It was a declaration of personal agency.
Why Does This Matter?
Most people go through life on autopilot. They wake up, go to school or work, and spend their days without really thinking about what brings them joy or fulfillment. They follow routines, driven by societal expectations rather than personal desires, and end up feeling like zombies—disconnected from or rarely examining their own likes and passions.
But silly personal goals, like Stinky’s mission to wear the same shirt every day, or Jonathan’s to participate in a race with an anonomous competitor can break that monotony. And as long as these goals are not immoral, unethical or illegal, they don’t harm anyone. Although they might seem pointless to others, they can bring a sense of purpose, fun, and fulfillment to those who pursue them. In a world where success is often measured by external standards—grades, promotions, or social status—accomplishing a “silly” goal reminds us that life is more than just meeting society’s expectations.
The Value of Personal Goals
Stinky’s goal wasn’t about impressing anyone or achieving some grand feat. It was about his personal determination to do something unusual, something that gave him a sense of identity and accomplishment.
Similarly, Jonathan’s quirky racing competition wasn’t about winning or beating anyone. It was about participating, enjoying the process, and doing something that mattered to him—even if it seemed trivial to others.
What makes these goals so fulfilling? It’s the fact that they’re entirely self-directed, free from external expectations. These “pointless” challenges give us a sense of autonomy and creative control over our own lives. Silly goals help us connect with ourselves. They remind us that life’s meaning doesn’t always have to come from serious or lofty pursuits.
Winning Isn’t Always the Objective
Neither Stinky nor Jonathan won something concrete. What they achieved was a sense of satisfaction from staying true to their goals.
In many cases, the real reward isn’t a trophy, a raise, or a round of applause—it’s the joy of the journey, the lessons learned, and the personal satisfaction of accomplishing something you set out to do, no matter how small or silly it may seem to others.
Photo Credit: Blacqubook
IStockphoto
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/iStock-485870443-scaled.jpg17072560Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2024-09-08 06:09:502024-09-08 06:09:50Lessons From a Ripped Shirt
There’s probably no musician alive today, whose music I’ve followed as closely, as Bob Dylan’s.
Not only have I bought and listened to most of his albums, read articles and books about him, including his memoir Chronicles: Volume One, watched numerous music videos of him playing, but I’ve also seen him perform live.
That being said, I would not consider myself to be a Dylanologist.
Needless to say, over his long career Dylan has written and performed numerous memorable songs, ones that have appealed to and in some cases defined different generations. Some of my favorites include, “Like a Rolling Stone,” “Lay, Lady, Lay, ” “Hurricane,” “Mississippi,” or “Gotta Serve Somebody,” but I keep on coming back to “Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight.”
Written in 1982 and appearing on his album Infidels, this melancholic song has been covered by other famous musicians like Aaron Neville, Bettye LaVette, and Chrissie Hynde.
It’s hard for me to put into words why I like “Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight,” so much. For those unfamiliar with the song, the lyrics depict a boyfriend or husband pleading with his girlfriend or wife to not abandon him and their relationship. He asks her to stay strong and give their love another chance during a difficult time. The lyrics capture a deep sense of vulnerability, desperation, and the fear of losing love. The argument that the boyfriend/husband presents appears logical for the context, and the words are chosen with both economy and precision.
There are a handful of things about this song that appeal to me.
To begin with I’m sure that watching the music video of Dylan playing “Don’t Fall Apart on me tonight,” live with well-known talented musicians in a studio helped.
The song also capably combines blues, rock, folk rock, reggae and country music sounds.
“‘Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight’ clearly benefits from the talented guitar performances of Mark Knopfler, formerly of Dire Straits, and Mick Taylor, formerly of the Rolling Stones. The track also features accomplished reggae musicians Robbie Shakespeare on bass guitar and Sly Dunbar on percussion.
But what makes the song memorable to me is Dylan’s ability to capture the universal nature of this scenario, highlighting both the importance of tenacity and the value of second chances in relationships. In a world, where personal connections are often fleeting, sustaining meaningful relationships during times of emotional stress can feel like it requires superhuman powers. Sometimes, this means temporarily letting down your guard and hearing out the other person, even if, in the end, it’s best to abandon the relationship.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2024-09-01-at-8.23.55 AM.png6481042Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2024-09-01 12:46:372024-09-22 12:16:55What’s my favorite Dylan song?
For more than a decade a number of scholars and activists have expressed difficultly with the terms convict, inmate, offender, prisoner and felon. This problem has extended to using these labels preceded by the word “ex.” Recently this criticism has extended to difficulty with calling former President Trump a felon.
People opposed to using these terms argue that they are stigmatizing and prevent men and women who are labeled or referred to as such from gaining employment, progressing in their careers, finding suitable housing, etc.
A frequently recommended alternative is to use people centered language (PCL). It’s argued that using PCL is less stigmatizing and more humanizing. Thus, instead of referring to someone as a convict or felon, they should be called “A person with a conviction,” or in lieu of inmate or prisoner using “Incarcerated person” or “Person who is incarcerated,” etc.
But this strategy is no panacea for assisting people who are incarcerated or have been released from custody. And there are numerous criticisms of this approach that PCL advocates seem to be either unaware of or chose to ignore.
And here’s the main reason why PCL is problematic. Using PCL is cumbersome and it introduces unnecessary ambiguity Unless they have drank the Kool-Aid, themajority of people you talk with are going to look at you and wonder what the hell you are talking about. I don’t mind the strange looks, but if you value effective communication using PCL is not going to help.
It’s time for prison scholars and activists to invest their energy into more impactful kinds of prison reform activities, like fixing sentencing and prison conditions instead of getting caught up with and going down the rabbit hole of language politics.
Photo credit:
Photographer: Doctored
Title: Beef_angus_chart_butcher
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/IMG_6078-e1724294695495.jpg363600Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2024-08-25 01:34:472024-08-25 12:48:51My beef with Person Centered Language (PCL)
Lessons From a Ripped Shirt
/by Jeffrey Ian RossWhen I was an adolescent, my parents shipped me off to a month-long overnight summer camp for boys. Among the usual group of misfits in my cabin was a boy my age that we nicknamed Stinky. He had one quirky goal: to wear the same shirt every single day of camp.
Predictably, the shirt got dirty and smelly. And to stay in the good graces of his fellow cabin mates Stinky would occasionally wash it. However, given the rough and tumble nature of camp activities, the shirt sustained minor tears and rips. As the days and weeks passed, those rips grew larger. Stinky’s unusual and visible goal, and his dedication to it, made him a camp celebrity. Some campers, knowing his mission, would pull on the tears, trying to frustrate him, and make the shirt unwearable.
By the final week, the garment looked less like a shirt and more like a rag. But Stinky persevered. Despite the damage he kept wearing it. I’m not sure what he did with the shirt after camp, whether he (or his mother) threw it out, framed it, or burnt it, but Stinky (and no one else) owned this accomplishment.
Years later, while listening to an episode of This American Life, titled “The Good Guy Wins,” Stinky’s public act all made sense to me. The segment tells the story of Jonathan who is obsessed with participating in a unusual, low-stakes racing competition against an anonymous competitor. The joy wasn’t in winning, but in participating, doing something that mattered to him, even though it seemed trivial to others.
The story got me thinking about the value of “silly” goals—those personal challenges that might seem pointless to others but carry deep meaning for the person pursuing them.
For Stinky, it wasn’t simply about wearing a deteriorating shirt, nor was it some pre-punk rock fashion statement, nor was it a quiet rebellion against contemporary norms. It was a declaration of personal agency.
Why Does This Matter?
Most people go through life on autopilot. They wake up, go to school or work, and spend their days without really thinking about what brings them joy or fulfillment. They follow routines, driven by societal expectations rather than personal desires, and end up feeling like zombies—disconnected from or rarely examining their own likes and passions.
But silly personal goals, like Stinky’s mission to wear the same shirt every day, or Jonathan’s to participate in a race with an anonomous competitor can break that monotony. And as long as these goals are not immoral, unethical or illegal, they don’t harm anyone. Although they might seem pointless to others, they can bring a sense of purpose, fun, and fulfillment to those who pursue them. In a world where success is often measured by external standards—grades, promotions, or social status—accomplishing a “silly” goal reminds us that life is more than just meeting society’s expectations.
The Value of Personal Goals
Stinky’s goal wasn’t about impressing anyone or achieving some grand feat. It was about his personal determination to do something unusual, something that gave him a sense of identity and accomplishment.
Similarly, Jonathan’s quirky racing competition wasn’t about winning or beating anyone. It was about participating, enjoying the process, and doing something that mattered to him—even if it seemed trivial to others.
What makes these goals so fulfilling? It’s the fact that they’re entirely self-directed, free from external expectations. These “pointless” challenges give us a sense of autonomy and creative control over our own lives. Silly goals help us connect with ourselves. They remind us that life’s meaning doesn’t always have to come from serious or lofty pursuits.
Winning Isn’t Always the Objective
Neither Stinky nor Jonathan won something concrete. What they achieved was a sense of satisfaction from staying true to their goals.
In many cases, the real reward isn’t a trophy, a raise, or a round of applause—it’s the joy of the journey, the lessons learned, and the personal satisfaction of accomplishing something you set out to do, no matter how small or silly it may seem to others.
Photo Credit: Blacqubook
What’s my favorite Dylan song?
/by Jeffrey Ian RossThere’s probably no musician alive today, whose music I’ve followed as closely, as Bob Dylan’s.
Not only have I bought and listened to most of his albums, read articles and books about him, including his memoir Chronicles: Volume One, watched numerous music videos of him playing, but I’ve also seen him perform live.
That being said, I would not consider myself to be a Dylanologist.
Needless to say, over his long career Dylan has written and performed numerous memorable songs, ones that have appealed to and in some cases defined different generations. Some of my favorites include, “Like a Rolling Stone,” “Lay, Lady, Lay, ” “Hurricane,” “Mississippi,” or “Gotta Serve Somebody,” but I keep on coming back to “Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight.”
Written in 1982 and appearing on his album Infidels, this melancholic song has been covered by other famous musicians like Aaron Neville, Bettye LaVette, and Chrissie Hynde.
It’s hard for me to put into words why I like “Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight,” so much. For those unfamiliar with the song, the lyrics depict a boyfriend or husband pleading with his girlfriend or wife to not abandon him and their relationship. He asks her to stay strong and give their love another chance during a difficult time. The lyrics capture a deep sense of vulnerability, desperation, and the fear of losing love. The argument that the boyfriend/husband presents appears logical for the context, and the words are chosen with both economy and precision.
There are a handful of things about this song that appeal to me.
To begin with I’m sure that watching the music video of Dylan playing “Don’t Fall Apart on me tonight,” live with well-known talented musicians in a studio helped.
The song also capably combines blues, rock, folk rock, reggae and country music sounds.
“‘Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight’ clearly benefits from the talented guitar performances of Mark Knopfler, formerly of Dire Straits, and Mick Taylor, formerly of the Rolling Stones. The track also features accomplished reggae musicians Robbie Shakespeare on bass guitar and Sly Dunbar on percussion.
But what makes the song memorable to me is Dylan’s ability to capture the universal nature of this scenario, highlighting both the importance of tenacity and the value of second chances in relationships. In a world, where personal connections are often fleeting, sustaining meaningful relationships during times of emotional stress can feel like it requires superhuman powers. Sometimes, this means temporarily letting down your guard and hearing out the other person, even if, in the end, it’s best to abandon the relationship.
My beef with Person Centered Language (PCL)
/by Jeffrey Ian RossFor more than a decade a number of scholars and activists have expressed difficultly with the terms convict, inmate, offender, prisoner and felon. This problem has extended to using these labels preceded by the word “ex.” Recently this criticism has extended to difficulty with calling former President Trump a felon.
People opposed to using these terms argue that they are stigmatizing and prevent men and women who are labeled or referred to as such from gaining employment, progressing in their careers, finding suitable housing, etc.
A frequently recommended alternative is to use people centered language (PCL). It’s argued that using PCL is less stigmatizing and more humanizing. Thus, instead of referring to someone as a convict or felon, they should be called “A person with a conviction,” or in lieu of inmate or prisoner using “Incarcerated person” or “Person who is incarcerated,” etc.
But this strategy is no panacea for assisting people who are incarcerated or have been released from custody. And there are numerous criticisms of this approach that PCL advocates seem to be either unaware of or chose to ignore.
And here’s the main reason why PCL is problematic. Using PCL is cumbersome and it introduces unnecessary ambiguity Unless they have drank the Kool-Aid, the majority of people you talk with are going to look at you and wonder what the hell you are talking about. I don’t mind the strange looks, but if you value effective communication using PCL is not going to help.
As a response, a handful of individuals in the Convict Criminology network have courageously and eloquently argued why the term convict, etc. is an appropriate term and advocated the reclaiming of the convict label.
It’s time for prison scholars and activists to invest their energy into more impactful kinds of prison reform activities, like fixing sentencing and prison conditions instead of getting caught up with and going down the rabbit hole of language politics.
Photo credit:
Photographer: Doctored
Title: Beef_angus_chart_butcher