Your boredom is boring! Be entertaining, not just entertained.

When I was a middle school teacher (which is roughly equivalent to being a riverboat captain on the River Styx), I regularly heard this complaint from my charges: “Mister, I’m bored!” (They called any male teacher or administrator “Mister” because, I suppose, they couldn’t be bothered with actually learning to say difficult names like Strother…or Smith…or Jones.)

I heard the complaint so often that I started making mental notes of the frequent fliers of the “I’m bored” flag. This is what I found: the ones who most complained about being bored were, without exception, the most boring kids in the classroom. They lacked imagination, personality, and drive.

Since those years as a teacher, I have continued to monitor bored people. My observations have led me to this conclusion:

Bored people are boring people, and those who require constant entertainment are themselves seldom entertaining.

Yes, that is my assessment and it may not be irrefutable truth. I will, however, continue to believe it until proven wrong.

These observations have motivated me to discover what innate characteristics best combat the blight of boredom.

My Conclusions, which I will call "The Six Essential Elements of an Interesting Life"

• A sense of wonder. If you've never been captivated by a sunrise, brought to tears or ecstasy by a masterful musical piece, or found beauty in a toddler smeared with mud from head to toe, Then, you might be susceptible to boredom.
• An inquisitive mind. If you are one who always wants to know who, when, where, why, how…I doubt you battle boredom much, do you?

Let me tell you a little story. My father founded and owned an auto repair shop in the town where I grew up. My first job (which I began at age 11, which is another story) was in that shop.

Dad named his shop D&F Battery & Electric. The D& F were initials for David and Freda, my parents' names. Dad sold the shop under duress to a man he had mistakenly brought on as a partner.

That was in 1977. The shop is still there, run by the son of the man to whom Dad sold. A couple of years ago, I stopped in to see the place after more than 40 years of having left. The same man (the former half-owner's son) still owns and operates the business. After I reminded him who I was, we caught up on the past 40 years. At least, I did. This man who had not seen or heard from me or my family in more than four decades didn't have a single question. He didn't ask whether Dad was dead or alive, where we had been, or what we had done. He wasn't the least curious. That told me everything I wanted to know and confirmed everything I believed about that bunch.

• A vivid imagination. The theater of the mind is a classic antidote for boredom.

When my oldest grandson was young, he and his mother (our daughter) lived with us for a few years. My wife was a thrift shop warrior back then. She delighted in finding great deals on wonderful items. She sometimes found action heroes or military figures, which she bought for Ty. I remember watching him from his bedroom doorway as he arrayed heroes and army guys in battle formations. He gave them voices and personalities.

How many places have you been in your mind? How many lives have you lived? How many mountains have you climbed? How many enemies have you vanquished?

• A voracious appetite for reading. If you are the kind who will always wait until they make the movie, I suspect you are already bored with my ramblings.

"The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read." ~Mark Twain

• A passion for invention. All of you with patents in force or pending, please place your photos or comments in the comments section.

My best friend fits this category. I don't know that he ever patented anything but long before vehicle manufacturers turned pickup tailgates into Swiss army knives, he designed one on paper and showed me all the amazing things one could do with that ostensibly simple part of the truck.

• A penchant for improvement. I put my wife in this category. She never met a recipe she couldn’t improve. My mother made the best chocolate pie. Everyone who ate it said so. Then, Donya got hold of it and did her thing and my Mom said, "Your chocolate pie is the best I ever had."

Somehow, while putting these thoughts to paper, I was reminded of the Leanne Womack classic, I Hope You Dance. (It was probably that whole “sense of wonder” thing.)

I guess what I am saying is what she was singing: It’s your life; live it!