The Airbnb concept is somehow both weird and intuitive. It is weird to spend the night in a perfect stranger’s home, but then again it makes sense to get some use out of something otherwise unused at a mutually beneficial price.
The service thrives on customer reviews, of course. For instance, any review with “there were creepy people playing with snakes” will pretty much guarantee that I will keep looking. On the other hand, “there were creepy people playing with snakes—and free churros” might persuade me to stay more than one night. So it is in the best interest of the host to provide a pleasant stay, which leads to good reviews, which leads to more business. You know, Economics 101.
What I did not know until recently is that the hosts can also review the guests. Makes sense, I guess, but I will admit to being a little nervous when I recently received my first review by an Airbnb host. Here is what I got: “Al is clean and kind.”
I am incredibly proud. Absolutely love it. Mark it down, when I check out of the Airbnb called Life, I believe that is headstone worthy.
It reminded me of a great Anne Lamott story (in Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith, 37-45) when she helped her friend with a dance class for adults with special needs. Several days later, Anne’s friend told her that after the class one of the students said, “I liked those old ladies! They were helpers, and they danced.” Those are the words Lamott wants on her gravestone.
I have had more opportunities to be around death so far than I remember requesting and each instance got me to thinking. After all the resume drafts, and after all the performance reviews, and after all the updating the LinkedIn profile—and even after the obituary is written, read, and recorded—a few numbers and a few words are engraved on a rock in an attempt to sum up one’s life. An entire life in just a few words.
What will your words be? I’m just saying, clean and kind ain’t bad.
“Love of beauty is taste. The creation of beauty is art.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Strava is the self-described “social network for athletes.” I accepted Brad’s invitation to join anyway. Strava challenged its users to go for a personal record (“PR” in runner lingo) in June in The Strava Mile. For some reason I accepted that invitation, too.
My sweet daughters took me to reggae night at the Hollywood Bowl last weekend for Father’s Day. It was a beautiful evening that featured Ziggy Marley, and it was extra special to hear him perform his father’s classic music on a day that honored dads. It was also a little, ahem, “foggy” in the Bowl on reggae night, and let’s just say that I was glad it was an open air venue.
Our church family has long prepared and served periodic meals for the weekly meetings of a local ministry that serves marginalized people in Malibu. After the meal there is a Bible study for those interested in staying, which ends up being a decent number of people. Last week, the message from the ministry leader was part sermon and part motivational speech that encouraged those in attendance to live with courage. I was particularly impressed by the connection he had with the motley audience. It was obvious that they liked him, which I suspect is in large part because he likes them.
My wife is now a certified indoor cycling instructor and I am on notice that I will soon attend one of her first classes. She is amazing, and I am slightly terrified.
“Knowledge is flour, but wisdom is bread.” – Austin O’Malley
