Peter Brewer had been sending me snippets of what would become his book, Running Out of Saturdays, for quite some time. Each little piece was a clue to what the book would be about. Each brought a smile to my face, because I know the man. I respect the man. I love the man.
He even sent me some chapters of what the audiobook would sound like. I told him he read too slowly and that it didn’t feel like the Peter Brewer I had come to know and love. But I think if you opt for that route, setting your audio speed to 1.5 or 2x will take care of that.
And one of the pieces of audio he sent me truly surprised me. It turns out I’m a featured character in one of the chapters and the whole subject of another he affectionately titled, “Baldy.” I love the man, but to be clear… I’m not bald. I shave my head. Peter, on the other hand, is indeed bald.
From The Heart
What I did not get from the snippets of writing that he first sent me on January 25, 2024, was the connective tissue that holds this book together. He sent me two PDFs that day, a short snippet and what he termed a “bonus chapter for fun.” My initial response was, “I just read the first. “It ain’t over til the Baklava lady sings!” is so very good.”
I asked him then what the goal was. Peter said, “It’s started as something to share stories of my life with my kids. But it’s morphing into a proper book of life and business lessons based on my learnings. I’m about to add some pieces on characters of the real estate profession in the 80’s, 90’s, and 2000’s. You’ll enjoy the piece I wrote about Andrew from NZ.” And I did.
He sent me another text message on April 24, 2024 with the message, “Just handed 83,500 words on 320 sheets of A4 paper to Tara and Sam McLean to start editing and compiling into a memoir and something that’ll resemble a book in a few months. Pretty excited!” I was excited for him. However, even with all the advanced insight, it was not until I sat down last week and read the entire book that the weight of what Peter had written hit me.
Running Out Of Saturdays Is A Love Letter
Peter’s book is a love letter. It’s a love letter to his mother and father. It’s a love letter to his children. It’s a love letter to every human who shaped his life. It was even a love letter to me. But it was also a kind and forgiving love letter to the younger versions of himself that have shaped the man he is today.
The connective tissue that ties this book together, the thing that will drive home the wisdom hidden in the words, is Peter’s vulnerability and his audacious transparency. There were moments that I found myself fighting back tears, moved as much by the courage to write the words as by the story itself. This was the man I knew, the man I loved, bearing it all. The good. The bad. All of it.
And in the process of expressing his love for everyone around him, his overt honesty about himself felt like a form of self-healing. It may not be why he wrote the book. But I’m certain that is one of the results. And in telling his own story with such transparency, it forced me to reckon with my own. Could I ever be that vulnerable? Let me try.
The moment I finished the book, I sent Peter this photo along with this message: “I just finished your book. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get to. I didn’t want to write some perfunctory ‘review.’ It may take a few days to settle on what I want to say, but I intend to say it publicly. I don’t write much anymore, frankly, I’ve lost my voice, but I won’t have any trouble finding it for this one.”
True to form, he didn’t let that line, “I’ve lost my voice,” slide. This is a part of what he wrote back, “I’m interested that you feel that you’ve lost your voice. You have so much to say that makes a difference. I’m genuinely interested why you feel that way. Your use of words inspires people to think. And at this moment in our history this world desperately needs more people to think instead of blindly and hopelessly limping like lame sheep from sun up to sun down.”
“Since you’re an old fart like me,” I replied, “you’ve probably headed to bed already, so I’ll write this now at 6:43 am and send it later. Yes, I really do mean I’ve lost my voice. It’s something I’ve struggled with my entire life. My stepmother’s voice, “you’re never going to be good enough,” is a constant internal refrain, despite years of working on it and recent breakthroughs in my marriage that have quieted that voice in many, many ways.”
“One of the things I loved about your book was the level of transparency and vulnerability you were able to muster. I am sure I feel it more because of our relationship, but I’m also certain that even people who’ve never met you will feel it and appreciate it. I struggle with that. And, I have many, many thoughts. I have many things I want to write about… I never finish them. I get to a place where I say, ‘who cares? My voice won’t make a difference.’ All of that is despite you, my wife, Laura Monroe, Todd Carpenter, and others saying to me, ‘your voice has made a difference.'”
“You never know, maybe writing about your book will spark a resurgence. Or not. But that’s where I’m at and have been most of my life. Even when I was writing often, it was a struggle to hit publish. I can’t tell you how many posts I’ve written and deleted, not even leaving them in draft for later reconsideration. My stepmother may have once been my harshest critic, but that person is now me. And… life is still good.”
Of course, Peter shared some encouraging words after he woke up to that, including, “thank you for showing me a rare vulnerable side to you my friend. I sincerely appreciate you trusting me with those words and how the words of another impacted your life.”
I’m Running Out Of Saturdays Too
You want the best review I can give of Peter’s love letter, disguised as an autobiography? Reading it will force you to consider the truth of your own life. It will force you to reflect on your own successes, failures, and mortality. You’ll see a man stripped naked, literally and figuratively. (That photo, Peter, is not my favorite part of the book, but it’s a fabulous metaphor.)
It will inspire you to write your own love letter, perhaps even to live out your own love letter. It will make you want to reach out to people you love while you still have Saturdays left to share with them, to let them know how much they mean to you. And if you’re like me, it will make you want to be more vulnerable in more places, even public ones. Maybe this is a start.
Fun fact: I was born on a Saturday. From that Saturday to today, I have lived through 3,331 Saturdays. According to ChatGPT (which may be incorrect), the Social Security period life table indicates that a man of my age will likely live another 18.89 years, implying an expected age of around 81.9 and an end date near September 18, 2043. By that yardstick, I’d have about 942 Saturdays left. I might have more. I might have less, but the point is I’m going to run out of Saturdays at some point. So are you.
My advice to you is to take one of those few remaining Saturdays you have left and read Peter’s book. Perhaps it will hit you the same way it hit me. If it does, come back and let me know. I know Peter will appreciate that too.
FYI, I asked Rocky to read this before I hit publish. I was going just to hit publish without second guessing it, but the voice still lives in my head. She said not to change a word. Thanks, babe.
Your voice, along with a handful of others, was a turning point in my career. Showing what was possible when blending real estate and technology completely shifted the industry communication. Keep talking, we need your voice more than ever. Truly.
Katherine, thank you. I’m touched by the kindness of the comments here, and by your encouragement.
Jeff, This review doesn’t just sell Peter’s book, it feels like a companion piece to it, a love letter about a love letter. Your voice is always appreciated. Your friend in Nebraska
Long time no talk, Mike. It’s great to see you here. Thank you for your encouragement over the years and in this moment. It’s greatly appreciated.
Jeff,
Your review alone, got me thinking about the number of Saturdays that I have left and what I would say in my own story.
According to my Google email search, I have been following your words since April 25, 2014. Your blog posts have been the ONLY thing that I stop, and take the time to immediately and completely read.
Why? They are just damn good and thought provoking. Some of which I have read multiple times.in order for it to properly process in my brain.
What you say and how you say it are at another level, that we do need at this time, more than anything.
I have shared your words many times, because, frankly you say it better than me or anyone else.
I hope that your laryngitis is cured, your voice is rediscovered and you chose to share it with us again!
If not, I’ll know that when you do post something, that it is truly touching you, that you could not keep it to yourself and it is again another valuable piece of wisdom to be mulled over!
Best,
+j
Jay, your comment hit me hard. The fact that you have carried my words since 2014 and shared them with others is a gift. I am going to simply receive that gift with gratitude, not deflection. And I certainly am not going to make any promises with this reply. I am going to keep doing the work until the next thought insists on being added to this public record. Thank you for reminding me why the work matters. Truly.
Jeff, I’ve spent most of this afternoon and tonight fumbling around trying to muster the right words of appreciation for your humbling words shared about hashtag#RunningOutOfSaturdays.
(And yes, I did finally stop crying)
But frankly my friend, the greatest gift to me in your kind words is sitting and witnessing the comments of love, support and encouragement from YOUR friends and colleagues both here and on your blog willing you on to resume sharing your voice louder and more often. The world needs to hear it.
That I felt the need to focus 2 chapters on you and the impact you’ve had on me for 17+ years shows I’m either a crazed stalker or i’ve been incredibly touched and inspired by your kindness and words of wisdom over that time. Let’s go with the latter.
Thank you for having the courage to share your vulnerability with us all. I hope you found it as cathartic as I did.
And just as you said ‘Thanks Babe’ to Rocky. I echo a ‘Thanks Babe’ to you also. Love you my friend. XXXX
I trust this post only reinforces what I hope you already knew, Peter. The best relationships are two way streets. Our has been that. I miss sitting and sharing the same air with you and we’ll need to correct that in the coming year. And as I shared privately, I’m hoping your book will be throat lozenge for what Jay Spencer artfully described as “laryngitis.”
Jeff,
Thank you for such a heartfelt review, and for your writing and speaking over so many years. I echo Jay Spencer’s comment above that when I see a post from you in my email, I stop and immediately read what you have to say.
I highly recommend writing an autobiography, especially for anyone who has kids and grandkids. It doesn’t matter if you’re concerned about your writing ability, or getting everything right.
Write it with only your family as your audience. Write as if you’re getting the chance to tell stories about your life’s experiences to your great-great-great grandchildren. These are people you’ll never get to meet, but they can “meet” you through your writing, and learn a little about your life. Your challenges, your triumphs, your turning points, and your heartbreaks. You can tell them about the people you admired, and why you made some of your life’s biggest decisions (you’ll get to admit that many of those decisions were purely by chance).
How much do any of us know about our parent’s or grandparent’s lives, let alone family members who came 100’s of years before us? For our ancestors, we may know their names and some tidbits of their history from places like Ancestry.com, and maybe a few old photos. But, who were they really, what were their lives like, how did they see things? What can we learn from them? We rarely know any of this information.
I spent about 6 months off and on in 2024 writing my “memories” book. My answers to a series of around 75 questions. Each question became a writing prompt, a starting point for me to put myself back in my past and write about my own history. I got to revisit friends I haven’t seen since my childhood, relive major turning points, etc.
I showed the list of questions (which I worked with ChatGPT to create and organize) to my daughters and asked them to add questions to the list that ChatGPT left out. I got 3 or 4 doozies from them that really made me think.
I hope you write and post more. I hope you write your own memoir, using whatever method fits for you. Your family will love the gift of knowing you on a deeper level than they ever thought possible.
-Bob
I am one who’s been truly blessed by your voice, friendship and each Saturday I’ve spent a tiny piece of with you. Thank you for each word you’ve shared in this world. We are all better for it. Love you, my friend!
I cannot imagine The Jeff Turner losing his voice.
I was one of your fan/followers on Active Rain so many years ago. I believed everything you said, and you had a lot to say. Valuable stuff.
Keep talking, you still have 100% cred.