a dispatch from the best part of the best part of the world

and a note on silence, a funeral and what's coming next

Hello dear reader,

It’s been quite a while since I last wrote.

And?

It’s been damn relaxing - a relief really.

The discipline that I developed from shipping a newsletter every day for over five years was transformational.

And?

I’d be lying if there were not MANY occasions where I was flabbergasted and asking myself What in the name of time am I doing this for?

When my nanny got sick, I stopped having good answers to that question.

And?

When I delivered her eulogy?

Something came clear to me.

I used her words where ever I could

The cow was in the barn, the pig was in the pen, the hens were in the henhouse and outback was the outhouse.

In those moments, surrounded by my family and those whose lives were touched by my nanny, she gave me one final gift - the gift of sending her off.

Others can share her stories. Others likely will.

But in that moment something crystalized for me. in sharing her stories I became a bridge to a history of an entirely different world.

The congregation was with me, with every breath and every moment. I never felt so connect nor in such a perfect place in my life.

Delivering Nanny’s eulogy was perhaps one of the greatest and most tranformative experiences of my life.

I felt good.

I felt seen.

I felt such love in the room - partially for me, but mostly for my nanny.

And bathing in that love and feeling so much support, rapt attention of all of those people laughing and crying?

It was sublime.

I closed with one of Nanny’s favorite phrases … the best part of the best part of the world.

And that phrase?

It’s sticky.

Say it aloud: The best part of the best part of the world.

It’s an odd little ear worm eh?

So much so that the minister?

She used it after me.

And in that moment, I knew that I’d caught some lighting in a bottle.

It was special so I decided to run with it.

My work became clear.

I’m here to share stories from the best part of the best part of the world.

And?

I’m a storyteller, not a writer.

This practice has transformed my storytelling.

But I think that the foolsletter is due for a major overhaul.

Someday.

Instead?

I’m focusing on developing my tour guide business.

I can see that working for the major bus company will only get me so far.

You see dear reader, I’m an exceptionally outstanding tour guide.

This isn’t arrogance. It’s data I’ve been collecting via comments and even some cruise line VP’s who’ve been in the industry for 30 years and have had literally thousands of excursions.

I’ve been told that I’m one of the best tour guides they’ve ever met anywhere in the world.

And this fool, dear reader?

This fool is desperate enough to believe them.

Hope over hope I desperately want to share stories from the best part of the best part of the world.

Hope and desperation?

Naw.

At Nanny’s eulogy, I realized that it’s not desperation. It’s my calling.

And it’s my focus.

But there’s a problem you see.

I’m great at storytelling and terrible at business.

So I’m doing things about that.

Finding support, getting help and building it slowly

And?

I’m playing with a format that has a great reach and return for building a tour guide business.

Given that this newsletter was an indepth look and arc of a creative process, I’ll let you in on a secret.

When things stop working, sometimes ya gotta move on.

I’ve moved on a bit.

I’m back to posting daily though.

It’s a new format.

I’m making youtube shorts.

Under thirty second shorts are punchy, plucky and impish.

Up to a minute or so?

These capture stories about Nanny and her wisdom. Those stories capture the heart of the best part of the best part of the world.

If you want to follow along, you’ll find me here:

https://www.youtube.com/@jimmyfromdartmouth

And once that’s established, I’ll likely start this whole foolsletter business once again.

But for meow?

There are videos to make and guest to find and a business to create through boots on the ground and a lot of experimentation.

But most of all?

There are some stories to tell about a man named Ellis and a lady named Ruby and how their lives in the best part of the best part of the world made something magical.

The newsletter isn’t dead, but it is asleep. I’m currently finding my rhythm in a different format—shorter, punchier, and rooted in the same stories of this place. If you’d like to see what I’m up to, you can find me over on YouTube. Otherwise, I’ll be back in your inbox when the time is right.

Stay foolish.