Have you heard of this book? It is now one of my all-time favorites. The guy who gave this “last lecture”, Randy Pausch, is pretty smart, I think.

Randy was a professor of computer science at Carnegie Mellon University. He died of pancreatic cancer at age 48 and is survived by his wife, three young children, family, friends and colleagues…and now a huge number of individuals around the globe inspired by his “last lecture.”

He was asked by the University to give a “last lecture” which usually marks professorial retirement. For him, this would be the final lecture he’d ever give. Though he wrote his lecture for his children, his advice, anecdotes, and wisdom are really for everyone.  His book “The Last Lecture” is a collection of thoughts about achieving your childhood dreams, lessons learned, enabling the dreams of others, and his tips about how to live life. The thoughts and perspectives in this book really resonated with me. Not because I know my end, but because I am striving to live more like I do.

These are a couple of my favorite excerpts….

All you have to do is ask.

“…I walked over to the smiling Disney monorail attendant and said: “Excuse me, could the three of us please sit in the front car?”

“Certainly, sir,” the attendant said. He opened the gate and we took our seats beside the driver. It was one of the only times in my life I ever saw my dad completely flabbergasted. “I said there was a trick,” I told him as we sped toward the Magic Kingdom. “I didn’t say it was a hard trick.”

“Sometimes, all you have to do is ask.”

pg. 177

No job is beneath you.

“My advice has always been: “You ought to be thrilled you got a job in the mailroom. And when you get there, here’s what you do: Be really great at sorting mail.” No one wants to hear someone say: “I’m not good at sorting mail because the job is beneath me.” No job should be beneath us. And if you can’t (or won’t) sort mail, where is the proof that you can do anything?”

“…When I was fifteen, I worked at an orchard hoeing strawberries, and most of my coworkers were day laborers. A couple of teachers worked there, too, earning a little extra cash for the summer. I made a comment to my dad about the job being beneath those teachers. (I guess I was implying that the job was beneath me, too.) My dad gave me the tongue-lashing of a lifetime. He believed manual labor was beneath no one. He said he’d prefer that I worked hard and become the best ditch-digger in the world rather than coasting along as a self-impressed elitist behind a desk.”

“I went back into that strawberry field and I still didn’t like the job. But I heard my dad’s words. I watched my attitude and I hoed a little harder.”

pg. 168

All you have is what you bring with you.

“I’ve always admired people who are over-prepared. In college, I had a classmate named Norman Meyrowitz. One day he was giving a presentation on an overhead projector and in the middle of his talk, the lightbulb on the projector blew out. There was an audible groan from the audience. We’d have to wait ten minutes until someone found a new projector.

“It’s okay,” Norm announced. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“We watched him walk over to his knapsack and pull something out. He had brought along a spare bulb for the overhead projector. Who would even think of that?

“Our professor, Andy van Dam, happened to be sitting next to me. he leaned over and said, “This guy is going places.” He had that right. Norm became the top executive at Macromedia, Inc., where his efforts have affected almost everyone who uses the Internet today.”

pg. 159

Send out Thin Mints.

“As a part of my responsibilities, I used to be an academic reviewer. That meant I’d have to ask other professors to read densely written research papers and review them. It could be tedious, sleep-inducing work. So I came up with an idea. I’d send a box of Girl Scout Thin Mints with every paper that needed to be reviewed. “Thank you for your agreeing to do this,” I’d write. “The enclosed Thin Mints are your reward. But no fair eating them until you review the paper.”

“That put a smile on the people’s faces. And I never had to call and nag them. They had the box of Thin Mints on their desks. They knew what they had to do.

“Sure sometimes I had to send a reminder e-mail. But when I’d ping people, all I needed was one sentence: “Did you eat the Thing Mints yet?”

“I’ve found Thing Mints are a great communication tool.They’re also a sweet reward for a job well done.”

pg. 158

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I was so struck by his enthusiasm, his inquisitive nature, and passion for loving life. My RCIA sponsor gifted this book to me for my birthday and it really made me examine how I want to live my life, and how I actually do. It is an easy read, very short, and poignant. You will not be sorry you picked this one up.

What would advice would you share with others about living better, fuller, and more beautifully?