The first steps have been taken to collect some of the best Weblogs into a book, but I doubt it will ever be made into a movie. The decision of who would play me would simply be too hard.

Over the next several weeks, loyal readers will assist this project by identifying Weblogs they'd like to see in a book, as well as determining the title of the book. On Wednesday next week, anyone interested will have the opportunity to submit their favorite(s) for inclusion. Of course, if you don't want to wait, simply reply to this email and let me know your thoughts.

I'm anticipating being ready to publish sometime in the Spring, and of course, I will autograph all 12 of the copies. I'm not sure that any book stores will want me to appear, officially. But I do plan to set up a folding table in front of a store and take a photo of me with pen in hand, so I can claim "I had a book signing at Barnes and Noble." Sure, it was on the sidewalk, but it still counts.

A version of this Weblog first appeared nearly two years ago. At the time, My mom was a lively 91 years old, living in her own apartment. She recently passed away, and I used her quote, above, as part of her eulogy, so I wanted to share her inspiration again.

We called her Nana.

Five siblings shared the role of making sure she had a daily visit from one of us. When it was my day or days, I’d stop by and do a couple of simple things on a list she sometimes made for me.

Occasionally, I did the dishes, organized the refrigerator, and took out the trash. I was in the restaurant business for several decades, so not only are old habits hard to break, I happen to very good at most of my old habits. Two of my sisters performed much more important and frequent functions.

As part of my visits, I provided a detailed update on, well, what I was up to: where I’d been, how I’d been, and with whom I’d been. (Does anyone know if it is 'who' or 'whom'? I think it's whom, so I'm going with it.)

One week after a particularly robust report to her on my volunteer service to organizations old and new, some medical experiences, a live music event or three, a run or two, and a little bit of travel, she looked me right in the eye and said “You lead a very, very, interesting life. And it’s your own fault.” It gave me pause.

My mother was a profound philosopher.

I realized I do lead an interesting life, now that you mention it. You could make a case that you wouldn’t be reading this unless I lead, or led, an interesting life. Driving back from my mom’s apartment, I thought about the fact that I’ve always led an interesting life. I mean always.

I’ve had years where I went to more than 120 live music shows, and others where I went to 70 major league baseball games, and years where I traveled on private jets, (the reason I don’t like riding on roller coasters).

I've run half-marathons, a whole marathon, been in dozens and dozens of football, basketball and hockey stadiums. I've met governors, ambassadors, and senators, not to mention Shania Twain, Kenny Chesney, and Peter Frampton. I even shared a pizza with a guy named Wayne Huizenga in Miami (see footnote), and went drinking with a guy named Al Copeland in San Francisco (see footnote).

And of course being married to the girl of my dreams, currently my proofreader, for more than 48 years has been very interesting as well.

So, I’ve led an interesting life. Buy why? Accidental or planned? I started thinking about whose job it is to make our lives interesting. Who did we assign that responsibility to? When did we assign it?

The reality is my mom was right: if your life is interesting, or if it is not, it is your own fault. No one cares about your life being interesting as much as you do. No one has more at stake than you do.

If you look at the work side of things, the question could be posed ‘whose job is it to make your job interesting?’ If you totally rely on your company or supervisor to make your job interesting you probably have a boring job.

When you think of the most interesting parts of your job or your personal life, my guess is that you had something to do with it by customizing the role or creating that twist or that enhancement to something basic you really find interesting.

It’s not too late to make your life interesting. Here's a simple example of a time where 'interesting life' was the goal:

I worked in California with a guy from New Hampshire, and we would commiserate that we were too far from Fenway or the Garden or Foxboro to attend games, and we missed the experience. In those days, for example, there was one year the Celtics won the world championship, and the games were not even on TV in Los Angeles. Not. On. TV. It was hard to get a Boston sports fix out there.

One night while sipping cheap chardonnay on Stearns Wharf in Santa Barbara harbor, (the best place in the world to drink, and a very interesting place on its own) we came up with the idea to make our lives as New England sports fans more interesting.

Within two years we had seen the Patriots play in Anaheim and Seattle. We saw the Red Sox play in San Diego, Anaheim, Oakland and Seattle, plus the Celtics and Bruins play in Los Angeles. I can assure you, our lives were more interesting as a result.

I use this example to illustrate the fact that many people don’t lead interesting lives because they give away the capacity to do so. Living an interesting life isn't their goal.

Many people settle for boring.

Why wasn't last week an interesting week for you? Who did you assign the task of making your week interesting?

What do you think could make your life interesting this week, if your goal was to make your life interesting? (While keeping it legal, socially acceptable).

As you go through the week ask yourself questions about 'interesting.' For example, are you watching TV because you’re bored? Or are you bored because you are watching TV?

The world doesn’t owe you ‘interesting’, you owe you interesting. Whether you have an interesting life or not, it’s clearly your own fault.

It's your own fault.

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