Category Archives: Advice
“I Guess I’m a Dumbass” — My Podcasting Story So Far
People think I’m an idiot. I don’t know why exactly—but I feel it when they scoff at me for doing a podcast. It’s a hobby. I like I enjoy conversations, asking questions, putting together ideas. I write all my interview and conversation prompts myself. I do it because it’s something I care about.
For a while, I outsourced the editing. I wanted to save time and thought getting a professional to handle the technical part would be worth the cost. I paid someone—let’s just call her my podcast editor—for that work. And man, that decision taught me a few hard lessons.
Here’s what happened:
1. Intro Music Drama
I wanted the intro music to be 15–20 seconds. She cut it to 5. Her reasoning? “Anything longer will turn away listeners.” Okay, I thought, maybe she knows more than I do. I trusted that feedback. In hindsight, it was just the first red flag. My vision was getting tweaked in the name of “audience appeal”—without actual audience input.
2. The Book Title Butchered
I interviewed an author whose book was titled Race Against…Against Race. Yes, the repetition was intentional—it was part of the book’s message and structure. But the editor decided that the repeated “against” must’ve been a mistake, and every single time the title came up, she cut it down to Race Against Race. Totally changed the meaning and made me sound like I didn’t even know the name of the book I was referencing. I had to ask her to go back and fix every instance. She wasn’t happy about it.
3. Private Conversation Left In
I did an episode with a retired goalie. At the end of the recording, there was a private conversation I explicitly told her to remove. Guess what made it into the final episode? Yep. That private part. Had to ask for another fix, and by then, I was already exhausted by this whole “outsourcing” thing.
4. Fast Cuts with the San Diego Chicken
This one still bugs me. I had the chance to interview the famous San Diego Chicken. It was a fun, natural conversation with human pauses—normal pacing. But the editor decided to cut all the pauses. The result? I came off as someone who kept cutting him off, over and over. Her explanation? “People don’t want to hear pauses—they want fast-paced flow.”
Really? Is that what podcasting’s about—sounding like a robot?
After all that, I decided to stop using her. It was costing me money, time, and worst of all—my voice. I was paying for “professional” editing but ended up feeling like I had to recheck every second, every word. I wouldn’t be surprised if she used AI to do most of the work, barely listened to the content, and still sent an invoice.
The last straw? She made a comment mocking me for podcasting as a “hobby.” That stung more than I expected. I was paying her, trusting her—and in the end, I got mocked for caring about something.
So yeah—maybe I’m a dumbass. Or maybe people just don’t get that doing something for love, not money, doesn’t make it worthless.
This is still my show. Still my hobby. Still my passion.
You don’t have to be famous or paid to create something real.
Wait… there’s more. Think that editor was bad? She’s just part two of the saga. Part one started with a “friend” who thought charging $500 for basic advice was totally normal.
Before I even recorded a single episode, there was this one “friend” who gave me a masterclass in how not to help someone
5. The $500 “Friend” Who Failed Me Twice
Before I even started the podcast—back in 2020—I reached out to someone I thought was a friend. He’d been doing podcasting longer than I had, so I figured: why not ask for some tips? I was brand new and just trying to get my footing.
He said, “Sure, I’ll help you out. I’ll even write everything down for you—what gear to buy, how to get started, what software to use…”
Then came the punchline: $500.
Just to tell me what mic to buy and how to hit record.
Oh, and a fee for each episode he’d help produce going forward.
Seriously?
This was stuff I ended up researching and figuring out on my own in less than an hour. But he tried to turn it into a full-on business transaction. This wasn’t mentorship or friendship—it was a sales pitch.
And the kicker? This same guy had already failed me twice before that.
Failure #1:
He once interviewed me for his podcast, back when I was still new and inexperienced. During the conversation, I was fidgeting with my keys—not realizing the mic would pick up all the noise. He had the experience. He should’ve said something during the recording. Instead, he just let it happen. I only found out about it after the episode was published—and by then, I sounded like a distracted amateur.
So much for the seasoned vet looking out for the rookie.
Failure #2:
Another time, I was a guest on his show again—this time to talk about a book I’d written about a baseball player. He completely butchered the player’s name. Over and over. I had even told him beforehand how to pronounce it, and he still got it wrong throughout the conversation.
He thought it was funny.
I didn’t.
And I’m sure the player wouldn’t either.
So this guy, who had twice shown a lack of care, preparation, or professionalism, suddenly wanted to charge me $500 upfront and then ongoing fees to help me with my own podcast?
People really will sell you back your own common sense and call it expert advice.
Needless to say, I didn’t take the offer. I figured it out on my own. And honestly, I’m glad I did.
The Manager Didn’t Appreciate Me: A Tale of Frustration and Unfair Treatment
There are moments in your career that make you question whether your efforts are truly valued, and for me, those moments came all too frequently. From trying to take time off to move into a new apartment to dealing with a lack of communication and support, my experience with my manager left me feeling unappreciated and, frankly, disrespected.
It all started when I was preparing for a big move. Moving is stressful enough, but I also had a job to balance. I requested several days off to pack and get settled, hoping that my boss would understand the importance of this personal task. Instead, I was granted a grand total of four hours. Four hours to pack up my entire life and move it into a new apartment—hardly enough time to even get started. To make matters worse, I watched as other colleagues were granted more generous time off for personal reasons. One teacher was allowed to take time off for a trip to San Diego, and another was given several weeks off to go on a missionary trip to Guatemala. But when it came to my request, I was treated like an afterthought.
The disparity in treatment became even more evident in the day-to-day management of the workplace. I remember one time, I was eating lunch at the mall food court when I received a call from the manager’s assistant, begging me to go cover a class. The catch? I hadn’t been told about the class beforehand. I quickly grabbed an Uber and made my way to the class, which ended up being only 1.5 hours. The lack of communication and foresight was infuriating, yet I still went out of my way to help out.
Then there was the time I asked for time off to call a hockey game on a random Wednesday night. I thought it was a simple request, one that wouldn’t cause any issues. After all, I had informed both the manager and the assistant well in advance. But when that night came around, I was bombarded with texts and calls asking why I wasn’t in class. I explained that I had asked for the night off to pursue my passion for hockey announcing, something I thought they’d understand and maybe even be proud of. Instead, they responded by telling me to tell my student that I was “sick” and couldn’t make it. Not only was I being asked to lie, but it also became clear that the issue wasn’t my absence—it was their failure to manage their schedule properly.
Months later, as I found myself being phased out of the job, the frustration continued to mount. I requested a schedule from the assistant, hoping for clarity and some semblance of organization. Instead, I was met with attitude and was completely disregarded. She forgot that just a few months prior, I had dropped everything I was doing at the food court and taken an Uber to cover a class due to her own incompetence and lack of communication. Yet, instead of appreciating my dedication, I was met with disrespect and a lack of professionalism.
The atmosphere at the front desk only added to my growing dissatisfaction. Instead of fostering a productive and professional environment, the front desk was often filled with giggling and idle chatter, which felt like a distraction from the job at hand. There was a complete lack of seriousness and accountability in how they managed the business, and it made my job increasingly difficult.
In the end, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been taken for granted. My efforts to go above and beyond were ignored, and the inconsistencies in how requests were handled left me feeling undervalued. It’s a frustrating realization when you put in the work and go the extra mile, only to be met with incompetence and indifference from the very people you’re trying to support. This experience has taught me a lot about knowing my worth, setting boundaries, and not accepting treatment that doesn’t reflect the effort I put in.
It’s a shame that so many workplaces fail to appreciate their employees, but I now know that I deserve better than to be treated this way. I can only hope that in the future, I find a place that values my time, my contributions, and my passion. Until then, I’m taking this lesson with me and ensuring that I never again settle for less than I deserve.
Wally Pipp’ed Without Being Wally Pipp
The title of this story should be “Wally Pipp’ed without being Wally Pipp”—but to keep to the hockey theme, we’ll call it “The Unraveling of My Hockey Dream.”
I had always loved hockey, and when I discovered an opening for a camera operator with the local amateur team, I jumped at the chance. I believed that showing up early and doing the job would secure my spot—unlike Wally Pipp, who lost his position to Lou Gehrig for taking a day off. I was determined to avoid a similar fate.
The media relations guy welcomed me warmly, and I made it a point to arrive early every time, pouring my heart into each game. To feel like a true part of the team, I ordered their hat and shirt, ie. merchandise with the team logo. You could not buy them from the team directly but had to do so online from a third-party store. Little did I know that this small investment would lead to a nightmare. The store’s communication was poor; they insisted I download the “Shop” app to track shipping. Long story short, downloading that particular app—again, for the purpose of tracking the shipping—wrecked my phone, costing me $140 for a new one. By the time my gear finally arrived, my excitement had soured into frustration.
Then came the gut punch. Two weeks after I had received the merchandise, the media relations guy texted me, casually mentioning that the team management was bringing in a college student to take over the camera work. My heart sank. I had invested so much into this position, convinced that my dedication would pay off. Instead, I felt like a placeholder, just another face until someone else came along.
I couldn’t shake the words of a relative who had questioned my spending on the team’s merchandise: “You’re probably spending more than you’re making.” I had brushed it off at the time, thinking my passion justified the costs. But now, those words echoed in my mind, a bitter reminder of my misplaced priorities. The shirt and hat I wore with pride felt useless—tokens of a dream that had slipped away.
Disgusted and disheartened, I reflected on the experience. I was reminded of something I should have already known—it doesn’t matter if you show up early and do the job. It does not matter that you are fairly competent and reliable in the job. In other fields, in other workplaces, people often keep their jobs for showing up late, being incompetent, and being rude to customers. Life stinks, and sometimes it feels like everything you pour your heart into can crumble in an instant.
I had hoped to contribute to something I loved, but instead, I felt cast aside, much like Pipp, who had been replaced without a second thought.
As I packed away my team gear, I realized that passion alone wouldn’t secure my place in this world. I would need to find a new path, one where I could truly thrive—not just as a fan, but as someone whose dedication could lead to something meaningful. It was time to redefine my journey, seeking opportunities where my passion and effort could truly make a difference, ensuring I wouldn’t be left behind again.
Update: I’ve decided to give that store a one-star rating as a review.

Lessons learned: When we can learn from situations in which bosses dismiss your talents…
Here’s the situation. I am an author of sports books as a hobby. Sometimes, my bosses might ask me what I am up to. I don’t normally discuss my books unless I am specifically asked.
On one occasion, an ex-boss asked me what I was writing. I told him. I explained why. He scoffed and said, in response to my explanation, in a patronizing tone, “So what?” I was offended and let him know that. The next day, he texted me something and I was still annoyed so I didn’t engage. A couple days later, when I was back to normal and reached out to him, he did not respond. He never responded again. It was as though he had disowned me for being upset the second day.
On another occasion, my then-boss asked me what I was writing. I said what the topic was and explained the reasoning. This boss also scoffed and said the same, “So what?” What can be learned from these experiences?
Essentially, I had two different encounters where I shared information about my writing projects with bosses, and both times I was met with dismissive responses. Here are some potential takeaways from these experiences:
Different Perspectives: People may have different interests and priorities, and what seems important or meaningful to you might not resonate with them. Your bosses might simply not appreciate the significance of your creative projects in the same way you do.
Communication Styles: The tone and manner in which you communicate your projects could affect how they are received. While you could be passionate about your work, your bosses may not care enough and thus perceive your explanation as insignificant or uninteresting, leading to their dismissive responses.
Managing Expectations: In professional settings, especially with superiors, it’s essential to manage expectations about the level of interest or engagement they may have in personal projects. Not everyone will be as enthusiastic or supportive as you might hope, and it’s important to be prepared for varied reactions.
On the other hand…
Resilience: Rejection or dismissal is a common experience for many writers and creatives. Learning to bounce back from such encounters, maintain confidence in your work, and continue pursuing your passion despite setbacks is a valuable skill.
Disrespectful Attitude: It’s evident that these ex-bosses lacked basic respect for their employee’s passion and hard work. Their dismissive and patronizing responses were not only unprofessional but also demeaning. It’s unacceptable for anyone, especially those in positions of authority, to belittle someone’s creative endeavors in such a manner.
Lack of Understanding: These encounters highlight a fundamental lack of understanding or empathy on the part of these ex-bosses. They failed to grasp the significance and value of the aforementioned writing projects, demonstrating narrow-mindedness and a limited perspective.
Unsupportive Environment: In a healthy work environment, colleagues and superiors should encourage and uplift each other’s interests and passions, even if they don’t personally share them. The fact that your bosses responded with indifference and condescension reflects a toxic and unsupportive workplace culture.
Asserting Boundaries: In such situations, an employee’s reaction to being disrespected is entirely justified. It’s essential to assert boundaries and stand up for yourself when faced with such dismissive attitudes. An employee has every right to express his/her feelings and expect to be treated with respect, especially by those in managerial positions.
Seeking Validation Elsewhere: While it’s disappointing to encounter such negativity from bosses, it’s also a reminder that not everyone will appreciate or understand your creative pursuits. However, don’t let their ignorance discourage you. Seek validation and support from communities, friends, and mentors who value your passion and understand the importance of your work.
Fuel for Success: Use these negative experiences as fuel to drive your determination and prove those who doubted you wrong. Let their dismissiveness be the catalyst for even greater achievements in your writing journey.
In conclusion, these encounters serve as a stark reminder of the importance of standing up for yourself, surrounding yourself with supportive individuals, and never allowing others’ ignorance to dampen your creative spirit. Keep writing, keep striving, and let your success speak louder than any dismissive words.
Respect
I don’t think it’s okay to ignore people. Isn’t that a form of bullying?
I will still help people, but these experiences that I’ve had are certainly not pleasant. We’ve all been helped. We’ve all helped people. I think what we want in return is respect. I’m going to share this particular incident, this situation that happened to me. Actually, two.
First up: Let’s call this person J. The letter J. You know, on an earlier episode of my podcast, I referenced someone as the letter D. No names, just letters. So, I’m going to call this next person “J.” The letter J.
Let me begin the story from the time when J asked me to write her a reference letter. I asked “when?” She said “this week.” So, I wrote up a reference letter that same day and gave it to her. (According to her, she was looking for a part-time job or simply a full-time opportunity elsewhere.) She told me not to tell the other staff that we hung out. Which is, okay, whatever. A few days later, she left some chicken rice in the fridge at work, and she texted me to deliver it to her after I was done that day (her home is nearby). Again, she told me not to tell the other staff that I was bringing her stuff to her.
But then shortly after I wrote that reference letter and gave it to her (it was several weeks later), she just stopped talking to me. It was, to me, like, okay, KP is no longer useful, so there’s no more need to interact with KP. I find that to be a bit disrespectful. And it was obvious. I always leave my classroom door open. It’s because these classrooms in the places where I teach, there are no windows or no windows that open. So I leave the door open because I don’t want to feel like I’m in prison. Symbolically, it’s also to say that my door is always open and anybody can come in and talk to me about anything.
So J would walk past my room without saying hi. But J would say hi to virtually everyone else. It’s obvious. Now, the sports media and sports fans would crucify Barry Bonds for ignoring his teammates. So, shouldn’t we do the same to regular people around us? It’s totally disrespectful. Again, it’s like, after I do a favour by writing a reference letter and that’s done, it feels like there’s no need to interact with me anymore. And there was that telling comment: Don’t tell the other staff etc. that we hung out.
You can interpret that in different ways.
So I sent a text and asked if I had offended J, and if so, I would like to apologize, but I did notice that J has stopped saying hello.
The response was typical:
Hahaha what! I say hi to you all the time KP??? Like every day I say hi to you!!!
That last statement was definitely not true. Just stop. Don’t insult my intelligence.

And there was no apology. I was the one who apologized for even mentioning that.
But another very telling incident was shortly after that, a week after that…
Let’s call it a work-related matter. She was asked by the school to assist me with something. We did not have to work together on anything; it was just a matter of J assisting me with something.
J and I had a brief in-person conversation and then I said I would email her the game plan. I did so a few minutes later, sent it by email and texted her about it. I notice she was still at the front desk talking to admin. I wanted to just verbally let her know that I had emailed her the game plan. So I came out of my room to say “Hey, J. I wanted to —” As soon as J saw me, she put her earphones in her ears and said “Bye” and walked out the door to go home. That is totally disrespectful.
Isn’t that passive aggressive? You spent so much time talking to admin and as soon as I come out and said, “hey J,” you walk out. That’s a very bad look. So, be that way. And besides, I wanted to talk about a work matter.
From my perspective, J comes across as being fake.
I intend to re-tell this story on my podcast with Stan Markotich. This is a learning opportunity for our students and our younger listeners. Don’t treat people this way. Don’t take it if someone does this to you.
I will still help people. But you come to realize people have an agenda. It’s not good to say that, but that’s true. It’s one thing if we had never hung out or if never talked to each other beforehand, but the fact is we did hang out before outside of work and we did talk to each other and I was always cordial with her, and I did help her before with the favour, so I would expect to receive a bit more respect. I mean, for me, if someone has a problem with you, talk about it. I tried talking about it and was laughed at, with that Hahaha what? I say hi to you all the time KP like every day I say hi to you.
You move on. But that person was disrespectful. But hey, I’m not a lesser person than anybody else. I’m not a non-person. You just don’t act that way to me. Nobody owes me anything. But respect is important. You just don’t treat someone who helped you out before like that.
You can at least say, “Sorry, I have to run right now. Let me text you.” But there was no apology, just a “Bye” and walk out the door. Earphones in ears like she wasn’t interested in what I had to say. That’s a bad look. I don’t like being used. I don’t like being treated like a pawn. Nobody does. Be respectful.
Then, here’s another person. This is a second story—at a different workplace. I worked from home for a while because of the pandemic. Then I went back to work, in person. The online class that I was teaching, it got transferred to another instructor, whom I’ll call “E.”
I got assigned a brand new in-person class. E inherited my original class but E would teach at school using a computer while the students studied from home online. Basically an online class but E teaches from the school.
I tried to give E some information about those students because I knew them and E didn’t know them. They were new to E.
When I gave him some information about students that he was inheriting (I called this my “scouting report” because we both follow sports), he said, “I don’t do scouting reports. I do it based on my interactions with them. But thanks.”
Why not just say, “Thank you, I’ll look at it” — or something like, “Thanks, I’ll hang on to it just in case”?
The next day I wanted to say hello to my former students, he said, “No, they’re on break.” I said again that I just wanted to say hello to them (in case some were still at their desk), and he repeated, “No, they’re on break.”
Why be a jerk? And he wasn’t joking around. He was stiff in his answer. This is someone who has taught in South America and in Asia. He has decades of experience. We’re talking about an educated person. Yet he treats fellow instructors like this?
And then I could hear his lesson from next door because the walls are thin. He was mispronouncing a student’s name so I wrote a note and slipped it under his door. I also emailed him to say, “Hey FYI E, the student’s name is pronounced [blah blah], and not the way you say it, but I think the student is too polite to correct you.” There was no acknowledgment from E.
The following week, I could still hear E mispronouncing that student’s name. That teacher also doesn’t talk to me anymore.
E is simply not respectful. This is the same person who was rude another time. During the first summer of the pandemic, I started a podcast. (This podcast.) I let E know about this and said, “Hey, can you check this out? It’s my new podcast.”
His response: “I listen only to Tim & Sid.” Why be like that?
There was no “Good luck with it. Hope it works out great.” It was just “I listen only to Tim & Sid.” (Note: Tim & Sid was a sports talk show hosted by Tim Micallef and Sid Seixeiro between 2011 and 2021, and its current name is Tim & Friends.)
Some time prior to that, he had asked me to help him secure some freelance work and I did help him out with some contacts and i gave him glowing references. Again, I was fine doing that. We’ve all been helped before and we’ll all helped others. What we all want in return is respect. But E is certainly disrespectful. You don’t treat people like that.
Here’s the thing. He thinks he’s seen the world and knows all there is to know and doesn’t acknowledge other people’s feedback. Again I used to respect him and, as mentioned, I gave him a glowing review, a glowing reference, but his actions are just not okay and he’s disrespectful.
So, you have both people — J and E — who don’t say hello anymore and don’t apologize. Just blatantly rude. One just puts on her earphones and says “Bye” and walks out the door. The other is just plain rude. So, once again, these people whom I’ve helped — they treat me like I’m a non-person, a lesser person. That’s fine. I’ll still help other people in the future.
As for people such as J and E, to me they are terrorists. After all, if you are not on my team, you are against me. Does this sound like an exaggeration and disrespectful? Well, consider this: There was a movie produced in 2015 called The Intern, where Anne Hathaway referred to her mother as a terrorist. If this word is being used in this way in pop culture, I consider it fair game and will indeed label those against me as terrorists. Disrespectful terrorists.




