As I woke up this morning and saw some of my photos featured in a Facebook catalog titled New Beginnings, I couldn't help but feel a little giddy about it. I mean, everyone needs new beginnings now and then in their lives. I couldn't help but wonder what's next for the young lady featured in those pics. I hope it's grand things. I hope she dreams big and realizes her dreams. As I looked at the youthful exuberance on her face in the pictures I captured, she had such uncertain promise in her eyes. It reminded me a little of myself at that age. I was once full of promise. I still am, I guess, but back then life hadn't happened yet. I hadn't found my place in the world. I was still searching. Now, I have my little piece of the American pie. I've had some success, some failure; and still I yearn for those new beginnings that will fill my life with more.
I had another birthday come and go. My 37th to be exact. And I spent it taking pictures all day at a local MMA event in Deming. I wasn't particularly happy with the pictures I captured that day. I never REALLY am at the end of a shoot, but there were still a few moments that made me happy. A few moments in life is all we can really ask for, right?
I recently talked with a friend about celebrating birthdays. I told her that in Europe birthdays seem more important and that my mom, being of Dutch decent, writes down all her friend's birthdays on a calendar and never forgets them. My friend told me she always puts on a white dress and goes out with whoever are her closest friends at that time. She wears white as a symbol of purity to wash away all the impurity that has burdened her life in the past year so she can start fresh with a new beginning for those who are no longer with us and unable to celebrate. Okay, I may have embellished that a bit, but you get the point. I thought that was a refreshing way to look at birthdays. Hell, maybe I'll even buy myself a nice white shirt and go out with my friends next year. If only I could make a few this year...:)
This year the musical hit of the summer is undoubtedly Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke, Pharell and T.I. That song has got my brain thinking again about relationships. One of my Facebook friends recently wrote a post to choose love over lust. In theory, sure that seems like the logical choice. But love is everywhere and those blurred lines often leave a guy confused and unsure about what to do about lust. In life, everything is not black and white. There are lots of gray areas. I suppose that's what Robin was writing about. Of course, it doesn't help when T.I. bursts into the song and asks "One thing I ask of you, let me be the one you back that ass to." Ya, TIP always has a way of getting right to the point.
Blurred Lines may be the hit of the summer, but the concept is nothing new to me. I can remember having countless conversations with my old college roommate about those gray areas we encounter in life. At the time, he was openly gay, but still coming to terms with how his relationships would end up and how his family would materialize. I'm happy to say he's married now and recently adopted a baby girl, so apparently he figured it out. Not that I ever doubted he wouldn't. In the end, we usually figure things out.
One great thing about Facebook is that with close to 3,000 friends, I get to see a lot of relationships come and go. There are weddings to be celebrated. There are unfortunate deaths that are mourned. And there are always an abundance of births to be celebrated. Of course the one thing all of it has in common is it's celebrated through pictures. As I focus on my portrait work this summer, I realize the importance of what I'm doing. In the last few years, my portraits have been used on Match.Com to find a friend of mine a new man. She's now married to that man. They've been shown on ModelMayhem.com to help start modeling careers and, of course, they've been shown on Facebook to start countless new beginnings. Photography for me is still a hobby and I don't get paid often for it, but I enjoy all of these little success stories.
In photography, I've learned the best photos captured are of what happens between the action. I guess the same can be said of life. In life, it's not always about those big events. The birthdays, weddings, births and deaths. Life is about celebrating the little events that happen everyday between those big events. So to that young lady celebrating her new beginnings this morning. I thank you for letting me be a small part of it and I wish you nothing but the best.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Lead, follow or get out of the way
A couple weeks ago I had a discussion about what it takes to be a great leader. One blog I read suggested that we're all naturally born leaders and that as we grow we develop traits that eventually hinder us from fully reaching our leadership potential.
I didn't necessarily agree with this theory at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it starts to make sense. I've always considered myself a great follower. I have all the necessary traits needed to be a great follower. I'm usually an attentive listener, I take direction well and I follow through on orders. But who's to say those traits wouldn't also make me a great leader?
I think we all have to know our role in life, but stepping out of traditional roles and feeling uncomfortable is a challenge these days. We live in a world where social anxiety gets treated with prescriptions. I think we all need to put down the bottle of pills and feel uncomfortable now and then. I mean, you're not supposed to enter a room full of strangers and feel totally comfortable, are you?
I think a true leader is able to motivate and inspire others to get things done. We all know a few people who are good at that. Personally, I have a hard enough time motivating and inspiring myself to get things done.
I also think a big part of being a leader is creating opportunities to let leadership emerge. If we never put ourselves in situations that allow us to be great leaders then those traits will never blossom and flourish.
I think we should all challenge ourselves to step out of traditional roles and lead more. If not leading others, then simply start by motivating and inspiring ourselves to tackle new and exciting ventures in life. It could be fun...:)
I didn't necessarily agree with this theory at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it starts to make sense. I've always considered myself a great follower. I have all the necessary traits needed to be a great follower. I'm usually an attentive listener, I take direction well and I follow through on orders. But who's to say those traits wouldn't also make me a great leader?
I think we all have to know our role in life, but stepping out of traditional roles and feeling uncomfortable is a challenge these days. We live in a world where social anxiety gets treated with prescriptions. I think we all need to put down the bottle of pills and feel uncomfortable now and then. I mean, you're not supposed to enter a room full of strangers and feel totally comfortable, are you?
I think a true leader is able to motivate and inspire others to get things done. We all know a few people who are good at that. Personally, I have a hard enough time motivating and inspiring myself to get things done.
I also think a big part of being a leader is creating opportunities to let leadership emerge. If we never put ourselves in situations that allow us to be great leaders then those traits will never blossom and flourish.
I think we should all challenge ourselves to step out of traditional roles and lead more. If not leading others, then simply start by motivating and inspiring ourselves to tackle new and exciting ventures in life. It could be fun...:)
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
How To Fill Your Glass - A celebrity's guide to the monogamous man
"There are no regrets in life, just lessons" ... Jennifer Aniston
If that's the case, I'd be the king of learning life lessons. I'd learn lessons left and right, upside down and inside out. My lesson book would be thick and I'd be the smartest lesson learner around. Come on, let's just admit that there are such things as regrets Jenn. I mean, you once dated Vince Vaughn, right?
I recently talked with a friend about the concept of serial monogamy. You know, the type of person who has no problem being fully committed to someone, but once the honeymoon stage is over, they're out like A-Rod at a optional drug screening. Personally, I love the idea of honeymooning. Who doesn't have fond memories of that "honeymoon" stage in a relationship? You remember, right? That time when the sex was plentiful and good, you were still exploring each other, you didn't take each other for granted and you didn't know every annoying nuance of your partner's personality. That being said, I can't really see doing it again and again.
Okay, maybe that's not entirely true. I could see honeymooning with certain women. I mean, what man doesn't see a dime here and there and start to fantasize about having the opportunity to be with additional women? But I guess that's why it's called fantasy. The reality is never as you imagined. I recently watched a show on polygamy and I have to say it doesn't look all that appealing. Instead of listening to one woman belly ache, this dude was bombarded by three broads. Just the thought of it gives me a headache. At least with one partner it's not that tough to duck out and escape for some "me" time. Can you imagine having three women wondering where you are and what you're up to? Three women calling your cell and sending you to the store to pick up groceries on a Saturday afternoon at Costco. Oh the nightmare!!! Just imagine how much longer I'd be stuck in line trying to make three women happy instead of one.
I guess monogamy has its place in our world. I'm still trying to figure out how it benefits mine, but I'm sure there's a reason most of us men succumb to it. I mean, it can't just be because some woman told us to, can it? And if that's it, then maybe it was all in the way they said it. I've come to realize a lot of life comes down to what you say. And sometimes it's not what you say, but how you say it. When it comes to the optimist versus pessimist scenario, women can be very optimistic about their futures. Is the glass half full or half empty. Mine has been empty for years, but some day I'm gonna figure out how to top that thing off.
Maybe Jenn Aniston can write a book and teach me that lesson. How to Fill Your Glass by Jennifer Aniston. That sounds easy enough, right? Some ghostwriter could write it, put her name on it and make her another million. Please tell me Jenn is good for more than just one cute haircut and far too many mediocre romantic comedies. I guess if I'm gonna rely on celebrity advice to run my world, I might as well go with Jenny from the block. At least J-Lo is sure to look good walking away after the honeymoon is over. Look out Casper. Miss Lopez might need another honeymoon soon.
If that's the case, I'd be the king of learning life lessons. I'd learn lessons left and right, upside down and inside out. My lesson book would be thick and I'd be the smartest lesson learner around. Come on, let's just admit that there are such things as regrets Jenn. I mean, you once dated Vince Vaughn, right?
I recently talked with a friend about the concept of serial monogamy. You know, the type of person who has no problem being fully committed to someone, but once the honeymoon stage is over, they're out like A-Rod at a optional drug screening. Personally, I love the idea of honeymooning. Who doesn't have fond memories of that "honeymoon" stage in a relationship? You remember, right? That time when the sex was plentiful and good, you were still exploring each other, you didn't take each other for granted and you didn't know every annoying nuance of your partner's personality. That being said, I can't really see doing it again and again.
Okay, maybe that's not entirely true. I could see honeymooning with certain women. I mean, what man doesn't see a dime here and there and start to fantasize about having the opportunity to be with additional women? But I guess that's why it's called fantasy. The reality is never as you imagined. I recently watched a show on polygamy and I have to say it doesn't look all that appealing. Instead of listening to one woman belly ache, this dude was bombarded by three broads. Just the thought of it gives me a headache. At least with one partner it's not that tough to duck out and escape for some "me" time. Can you imagine having three women wondering where you are and what you're up to? Three women calling your cell and sending you to the store to pick up groceries on a Saturday afternoon at Costco. Oh the nightmare!!! Just imagine how much longer I'd be stuck in line trying to make three women happy instead of one.
I guess monogamy has its place in our world. I'm still trying to figure out how it benefits mine, but I'm sure there's a reason most of us men succumb to it. I mean, it can't just be because some woman told us to, can it? And if that's it, then maybe it was all in the way they said it. I've come to realize a lot of life comes down to what you say. And sometimes it's not what you say, but how you say it. When it comes to the optimist versus pessimist scenario, women can be very optimistic about their futures. Is the glass half full or half empty. Mine has been empty for years, but some day I'm gonna figure out how to top that thing off.
Maybe Jenn Aniston can write a book and teach me that lesson. How to Fill Your Glass by Jennifer Aniston. That sounds easy enough, right? Some ghostwriter could write it, put her name on it and make her another million. Please tell me Jenn is good for more than just one cute haircut and far too many mediocre romantic comedies. I guess if I'm gonna rely on celebrity advice to run my world, I might as well go with Jenny from the block. At least J-Lo is sure to look good walking away after the honeymoon is over. Look out Casper. Miss Lopez might need another honeymoon soon.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Me, Illuminati, Freemasons, Politics, Sex, Aids, ED, Crime & Goals - Dance Party!!!
Okay, so last week I had the bright idea of asking for blog topics. Actually, I didn't think anyone would respond. But they did. I received eleven responses. I guess that proves that more people care about what I'm blogging about than I had originally predicted. I got to four of the eleven responses in my last blog, but I felt obligated to tackle the other topics, so here we go!
I guess the easiest way is to just write about them in the order they were received. Jordan Fish asked me to write about myself. While I'm hesitant to unleash all of the glorious secrets that make up me, I figured I'd start with three things about me that you probably didn't know. Hmm, what haven't I told people.Well, I was born in Holland and my mom is Dutch, when I was a kid my sister cut my thumb with scissors and when I was in college I worked as a busboy at the Olive Garden. Man, that was harder than I thought.
Okay, one down six to go. Daniel Drake asked me to write about music, the illuminati and freemason. While I don't really know much about that, I figured a good blogger does research, right? So here we go. The illuminati is defined as persons possessing, or claiming to possess, superior enlightenment. Also the name given to societies or sects because of their claim to superior enlightenment. I actually remember falling asleep to a Tom Hanks moving that talked about this sort of thing, but obviously I didn't buy into it that much or I would have stayed away. I guess one of these orders is the freemasons, a widely distributed secret order having its objective be mutual assistance and the promotion of brotherly love among its members. That sounds pretty groovy to me. I can get down with some brotherly love. I guess the group started with stone workers in the middle ages that would possess secret signs and passwords. The group later accepted masons not connected to the trade. So you're saying there is hope for me yet. Ya, that's it! I could become a freemason and pass secrets through my blog. Now wouldn't that be exciting. Hell, maybe I'm doing it right now and you don't even realize it. Okay, count every sixth word and that's the message you'll have to decode this week. Good luck!
Speaking of secret messages, Stan Kingsberry asked me to tackle politics. Well, I thought about it and started to run after Obama in my head, but he dipped and dove, then sprinted away from me. That dude was faster than I ever imagined. If I can't even tackle politics in my head, I probably shouldn't tackle it in my blog. I suggest you watch Politically Incorrect by Bill Mahr. He's always good for a few chuckles. And if he doesn't work. Try The Steven Colbert Report. That's about the extent of my research into politics these days. If I can't find out what I need to know on Comedy Central, then I probably don't need to know it. Yes, I am what's wrong with the world today. Haven't I been telling you that all along?
Of course, what's right with the world is that we appear to be on the precipice of another sexual revolution. Big word warning!!! Ya, I tried to slip one in on you. Did I use it correctly? If not, please disregard. Well, since Cindy Peters asked me to write about sex, let's get into it. You hear that Ralf, your wife has sex on the brain! You better do something about that buddy...haha Well, in case you didn't know, a 42-year-old American Aids patient living in Berlin was reportedly cured of the Aids virus after undergoing bone marrow transplant of genetically selected bone marrow. The patient had the virus for over a decade and now shows no signs of the virus in his bone marrow, blood and other organ tissues. While doctors say more tests are still needed to confirm it's completely gone, if you ask me that's still very good news about the virus that has infected 33 million people worldwide and kills two million each year. So go and get you some people.
Speaking of "gettin' some" Dell Martin told me to keep it up. I'm 90 percent sure he was talking about my blog writing, but just in case he was sending me a "secret message" in his comment, I figured I'd let everyone know about the latest and greatest cure for erectile dysfunction. Ya, that's right, I Googled it. I guess that in addition to the blue pills you see regularly advertised on television, doing Kegal exercises can also help improve libido and sex drive. The exercises consist of contracting and releasing the pelvic floor muscles that you use to control your pee stream when urinating. The forum post I read this morning described a guy who reportedly changed his diet and added Kegal exercises to start "banging again". While his wording choice and sexual terminology might be a bit misogynistic, I guess it doesn't hurt to try. But it's probably not the best idea to "bang" away on your partner.
Speaking of banging, Tyler Taft asked what I thought the worst possible crime would be. Obviously, murder and rape would be up there, but if you ask me, there's nothing worse than a thief. When people make the decision to take something that's not theirs, it really ticks me off. Why not just work for what you want. Get off your lazy ass and get a job and save the money needed to get all the things you desire. It's not that hard people!!!
Finally, Teresa Kingsberry suggested I write about goals. I used to make these long lists of goals for myself, but typically they'd just end up stacking up in front of me and I'd rarely cross anything off as accomplished. I mean, who needs a bunch of goal lists sitting on the counter reminding them of what a failure they are. So, I say to give up on setting goals. Let life happen. It'll all work out in the end. Hey, I already warned you that I'm what's wrong with this world. The fact that you're still reading this is your fault! haha
BTW...For Drake, There's a band called the Illuminati Congo. I suggest the song "Get My Bruce Lee On" There's also a band called the Freemasons. I suggest the song "Nothing But A Heartache". It's quite a toe tapper. Actually, they all are. If you want to throw a dance party, try putting on the Freemasons.
I guess the easiest way is to just write about them in the order they were received. Jordan Fish asked me to write about myself. While I'm hesitant to unleash all of the glorious secrets that make up me, I figured I'd start with three things about me that you probably didn't know. Hmm, what haven't I told people.Well, I was born in Holland and my mom is Dutch, when I was a kid my sister cut my thumb with scissors and when I was in college I worked as a busboy at the Olive Garden. Man, that was harder than I thought.
Okay, one down six to go. Daniel Drake asked me to write about music, the illuminati and freemason. While I don't really know much about that, I figured a good blogger does research, right? So here we go. The illuminati is defined as persons possessing, or claiming to possess, superior enlightenment. Also the name given to societies or sects because of their claim to superior enlightenment. I actually remember falling asleep to a Tom Hanks moving that talked about this sort of thing, but obviously I didn't buy into it that much or I would have stayed away. I guess one of these orders is the freemasons, a widely distributed secret order having its objective be mutual assistance and the promotion of brotherly love among its members. That sounds pretty groovy to me. I can get down with some brotherly love. I guess the group started with stone workers in the middle ages that would possess secret signs and passwords. The group later accepted masons not connected to the trade. So you're saying there is hope for me yet. Ya, that's it! I could become a freemason and pass secrets through my blog. Now wouldn't that be exciting. Hell, maybe I'm doing it right now and you don't even realize it. Okay, count every sixth word and that's the message you'll have to decode this week. Good luck!
Speaking of secret messages, Stan Kingsberry asked me to tackle politics. Well, I thought about it and started to run after Obama in my head, but he dipped and dove, then sprinted away from me. That dude was faster than I ever imagined. If I can't even tackle politics in my head, I probably shouldn't tackle it in my blog. I suggest you watch Politically Incorrect by Bill Mahr. He's always good for a few chuckles. And if he doesn't work. Try The Steven Colbert Report. That's about the extent of my research into politics these days. If I can't find out what I need to know on Comedy Central, then I probably don't need to know it. Yes, I am what's wrong with the world today. Haven't I been telling you that all along?
Of course, what's right with the world is that we appear to be on the precipice of another sexual revolution. Big word warning!!! Ya, I tried to slip one in on you. Did I use it correctly? If not, please disregard. Well, since Cindy Peters asked me to write about sex, let's get into it. You hear that Ralf, your wife has sex on the brain! You better do something about that buddy...haha Well, in case you didn't know, a 42-year-old American Aids patient living in Berlin was reportedly cured of the Aids virus after undergoing bone marrow transplant of genetically selected bone marrow. The patient had the virus for over a decade and now shows no signs of the virus in his bone marrow, blood and other organ tissues. While doctors say more tests are still needed to confirm it's completely gone, if you ask me that's still very good news about the virus that has infected 33 million people worldwide and kills two million each year. So go and get you some people.
Speaking of "gettin' some" Dell Martin told me to keep it up. I'm 90 percent sure he was talking about my blog writing, but just in case he was sending me a "secret message" in his comment, I figured I'd let everyone know about the latest and greatest cure for erectile dysfunction. Ya, that's right, I Googled it. I guess that in addition to the blue pills you see regularly advertised on television, doing Kegal exercises can also help improve libido and sex drive. The exercises consist of contracting and releasing the pelvic floor muscles that you use to control your pee stream when urinating. The forum post I read this morning described a guy who reportedly changed his diet and added Kegal exercises to start "banging again". While his wording choice and sexual terminology might be a bit misogynistic, I guess it doesn't hurt to try. But it's probably not the best idea to "bang" away on your partner.
Speaking of banging, Tyler Taft asked what I thought the worst possible crime would be. Obviously, murder and rape would be up there, but if you ask me, there's nothing worse than a thief. When people make the decision to take something that's not theirs, it really ticks me off. Why not just work for what you want. Get off your lazy ass and get a job and save the money needed to get all the things you desire. It's not that hard people!!!
Finally, Teresa Kingsberry suggested I write about goals. I used to make these long lists of goals for myself, but typically they'd just end up stacking up in front of me and I'd rarely cross anything off as accomplished. I mean, who needs a bunch of goal lists sitting on the counter reminding them of what a failure they are. So, I say to give up on setting goals. Let life happen. It'll all work out in the end. Hey, I already warned you that I'm what's wrong with this world. The fact that you're still reading this is your fault! haha
BTW...For Drake, There's a band called the Illuminati Congo. I suggest the song "Get My Bruce Lee On" There's also a band called the Freemasons. I suggest the song "Nothing But A Heartache". It's quite a toe tapper. Actually, they all are. If you want to throw a dance party, try putting on the Freemasons.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Friends, Music, Heat & Competitive Running - give em what they want...:)
When I think of man's best friend, I obviously first think of a dog. But has the definition of man's best friend changed over the years? Sure it has. Most men would admit that their best friend is likely no longer a dog. Some would say it's their woman. Still others might argue that they don't interact with their woman enough to warrant best friend status. If you ask me, having a best friend is becoming more and more of a foreign concept. The internet has helped replace having a best friend. Why have just one friend you share your life with when Facebook, Google, Twitter, Pinterest and the rest of social media allows you to share your life with thousands. Even millions! A person's relationship with a computer or cell phone is now the most important best friend you can find. God forbid you lose your best friend, they slide between the couch cushions or you drop them in the toilet.
Speaking of the toilet. What's with music these days? How's that for a transition? hee hee Does anyone remember when music was politically and socially charged? When it actually had a message about more than riding a beat, dropping it like it's hot and feeling the boom boom boom. Sure the boom has it's place in music these days, but what about putting a real message to that boom the way musicians did in the past. Artists like Bob Marley, Stevie Wonder, U2, Rage Against The Machine and Marvin Gaye did it right. Maybe the masses no longer wanna hear about war, the environment and politics in their music. We're all just happier riding the beat.
Speaking of the beat, how about the Heat. Another stellar transition. Okay, that one sucked, but it's harder than you think. At least it does rhyme. I must say that the NBA finals didn't surprise me. It went to 7 games and Miami won just like a lot of people predicted. After San Antonio blew their lead in game 6, I didn't even bother watching game 7 because I knew it was over. The Spurs didn't deserve to win. Poor ball management allowed two three pointers and an overtime loss in game 6. The Heat just wanted it more and Lebron James and his crew were the better squad. When it comes to sports, momentum is a bitch. That bitch shifted on the Spurs like a teenage gamer addicted to Need For Speed.
Speaking of shifting. Life after competitive running has been quite a trip. It's fun to see what everyone from high school is up to and how their fitness levels have changed. My life after competitive running has changed quite a bit. When I was in high school I ran competitive cross country and track. My coach Jim Hampton always said there were racers, runners and recreational enthusiasts. Well, it's official, I've gone from a racer, to a runner, to a recreational enthusiast. Well, technically I'm not a recreational enthusiast in coach Hampton's definition, but I have gone from running on a team to running for myself to running for my health. I guess it's a classic transition. But I'm still proud of myself for keeping up with it. I see some runners from high school who have abandoned it entirely and others like Ryan French and Grant Harrington who have gone from high school basketball and soccer stars to embrace the world of competitive triathlons. While I have yet to jump on that bandwagon, the life of a competitive runner can continually change. Who knows what's next for me. Maybe my best friend will text me a race schedule and I'll be racing again real soon. Although something tells me when it comes to triathlons, momentum might not be on my side.
Speaking of the toilet. What's with music these days? How's that for a transition? hee hee Does anyone remember when music was politically and socially charged? When it actually had a message about more than riding a beat, dropping it like it's hot and feeling the boom boom boom. Sure the boom has it's place in music these days, but what about putting a real message to that boom the way musicians did in the past. Artists like Bob Marley, Stevie Wonder, U2, Rage Against The Machine and Marvin Gaye did it right. Maybe the masses no longer wanna hear about war, the environment and politics in their music. We're all just happier riding the beat.
Speaking of the beat, how about the Heat. Another stellar transition. Okay, that one sucked, but it's harder than you think. At least it does rhyme. I must say that the NBA finals didn't surprise me. It went to 7 games and Miami won just like a lot of people predicted. After San Antonio blew their lead in game 6, I didn't even bother watching game 7 because I knew it was over. The Spurs didn't deserve to win. Poor ball management allowed two three pointers and an overtime loss in game 6. The Heat just wanted it more and Lebron James and his crew were the better squad. When it comes to sports, momentum is a bitch. That bitch shifted on the Spurs like a teenage gamer addicted to Need For Speed.
Speaking of shifting. Life after competitive running has been quite a trip. It's fun to see what everyone from high school is up to and how their fitness levels have changed. My life after competitive running has changed quite a bit. When I was in high school I ran competitive cross country and track. My coach Jim Hampton always said there were racers, runners and recreational enthusiasts. Well, it's official, I've gone from a racer, to a runner, to a recreational enthusiast. Well, technically I'm not a recreational enthusiast in coach Hampton's definition, but I have gone from running on a team to running for myself to running for my health. I guess it's a classic transition. But I'm still proud of myself for keeping up with it. I see some runners from high school who have abandoned it entirely and others like Ryan French and Grant Harrington who have gone from high school basketball and soccer stars to embrace the world of competitive triathlons. While I have yet to jump on that bandwagon, the life of a competitive runner can continually change. Who knows what's next for me. Maybe my best friend will text me a race schedule and I'll be racing again real soon. Although something tells me when it comes to triathlons, momentum might not be on my side.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Kindness isn't gonna be enough Mayor Boudreau
As I sat and listened to Mount Vernon Mayor Jill Boudreau give the commencement speech to this year's graduating class of Skagit Valley College the other night, I couldn't help but wonder if she was giving the graduates the wrong message when she spoke on the importance of kindness.
As I looked around the room, I knew that many of those students would be transitioning to their next stages of education and still others were getting ready to join the working world. But the commencement speech was a little off the mark in my opinion.
Mayor Boudreau, who earned her bachelors degree at age 34, expressed the importance of lifelong and daily learning and said that establishing this passion for daily learning would make these students better people. She commended the students for being comfortable with change and for having expanded their brains. She encouraged them to continue being lifelong learners through college classes, workshops, regular library visits and even plain old Googleing.
Sure, everyone can agree with all that, but where I couldn't help but scoff a little was when Boudreau brought up the importance of kindness. She told a story of her grandfather being the kindest person she knew and how he took the trains in search for work during the depression and worked for two meals a day. She said her grandfather studied human nature, was not afraid to fail and was kind until his dying days. He even asked for a cell phone in his 90's -- proving he truly embraced learning, innovation and change. Sadly, Boudreau's grandfather passed away at age 99 last year.
Boudreau went on to say that being kind is successful and that her husband sends her regular kind texts before board meetings that she's able to read like "really good fortune cookies". She encouraged the students to send others funny notes, let someone in when in traffic, resist gossip, coach others when encountered with unscrupulous behavior and let someone know when they have something stuck in their teeth or nose.
Boudreau expressed the importance of resisting quick assumptions, hate speech and the negative emotions that might cause you to shut off your brain and react like animals. She said that kindness pulls us back to our humanity, is attractive to employers and even girlfriend's parents. It restores our dignity and is something everyone can do.
Sure, kindness does all those things, and it never hurts to be nice, but are we forgetting that we live in a capitalist economy that doesn't give a damn about how nice you are? There are only a limited number of good jobs in Skagit County and just being kind isn't gonna get you to the top of that work ladder. You can be the nicest person on the planet, but that doesn't mean the competition isn't gonna be cruel in it's pursuits to step by our kind ass on their way to the top.
I think that if Boudreau REALLY took a look at the big picture and asked herself how she was elected mayor, kindness would be a mere dash in the collective cocktail of traits that earned her the position. Sure, being kind is a nice thing to say about your passing grandfather, and it's easy to write a nice speech filled with colorful anecdotes that will give those in attendance a happy feeling, but to preach kindness to an auditorium filled with eager students joining the working world seems a bit naive and irresponsible.
These students will be entering the most difficult transition of their lives and I'm here to tell you that simply being equipped with kindness isn't going to be enough. Being nice only gets you stepped on. Letting someone merge in traffic or telling your buddy he has food stuck in his teeth, or a booger in his nose, will only get you that much further behind in traffic and a buddy who will likely get the job instead of you. Sure, kindness has its place in our collective worlds, but if you ask me, it's not the message our future needs to rely on.
As I looked around the room, I knew that many of those students would be transitioning to their next stages of education and still others were getting ready to join the working world. But the commencement speech was a little off the mark in my opinion.
Mayor Boudreau, who earned her bachelors degree at age 34, expressed the importance of lifelong and daily learning and said that establishing this passion for daily learning would make these students better people. She commended the students for being comfortable with change and for having expanded their brains. She encouraged them to continue being lifelong learners through college classes, workshops, regular library visits and even plain old Googleing.
Sure, everyone can agree with all that, but where I couldn't help but scoff a little was when Boudreau brought up the importance of kindness. She told a story of her grandfather being the kindest person she knew and how he took the trains in search for work during the depression and worked for two meals a day. She said her grandfather studied human nature, was not afraid to fail and was kind until his dying days. He even asked for a cell phone in his 90's -- proving he truly embraced learning, innovation and change. Sadly, Boudreau's grandfather passed away at age 99 last year.
Boudreau went on to say that being kind is successful and that her husband sends her regular kind texts before board meetings that she's able to read like "really good fortune cookies". She encouraged the students to send others funny notes, let someone in when in traffic, resist gossip, coach others when encountered with unscrupulous behavior and let someone know when they have something stuck in their teeth or nose.
Boudreau expressed the importance of resisting quick assumptions, hate speech and the negative emotions that might cause you to shut off your brain and react like animals. She said that kindness pulls us back to our humanity, is attractive to employers and even girlfriend's parents. It restores our dignity and is something everyone can do.
Sure, kindness does all those things, and it never hurts to be nice, but are we forgetting that we live in a capitalist economy that doesn't give a damn about how nice you are? There are only a limited number of good jobs in Skagit County and just being kind isn't gonna get you to the top of that work ladder. You can be the nicest person on the planet, but that doesn't mean the competition isn't gonna be cruel in it's pursuits to step by our kind ass on their way to the top.
I think that if Boudreau REALLY took a look at the big picture and asked herself how she was elected mayor, kindness would be a mere dash in the collective cocktail of traits that earned her the position. Sure, being kind is a nice thing to say about your passing grandfather, and it's easy to write a nice speech filled with colorful anecdotes that will give those in attendance a happy feeling, but to preach kindness to an auditorium filled with eager students joining the working world seems a bit naive and irresponsible.
These students will be entering the most difficult transition of their lives and I'm here to tell you that simply being equipped with kindness isn't going to be enough. Being nice only gets you stepped on. Letting someone merge in traffic or telling your buddy he has food stuck in his teeth, or a booger in his nose, will only get you that much further behind in traffic and a buddy who will likely get the job instead of you. Sure, kindness has its place in our collective worlds, but if you ask me, it's not the message our future needs to rely on.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Oh Jesus, not another dream -- Don't wake me when it's over
So, last night I had a dream. I was late for a lecture in a crowded room full of strangers and, before I took my seat, the professor looked at me and asked me if I believed in Jesus. In my head, I knew that a vast majority of those strangers were believers, so the easy answer would have been. "Yes, of course." I could have said that, sat down and blended into the crowd. But what I said was "No, not so much."
As I sat down, one of the students asked me why I wasn't down with Jesus and I told him I didn't really wanna talk about it. Truth is, I woke up with a feeling of shame in my answer. It was strong enough that it woke me from my dream to wonder about it some more. Am I really not a believer. Just because I don't regularly attend a place of worship, own a bible or read the good word -- all the things that make someone a good Christian.
Sometimes I find myself quoting the Bible. You know, do on to others...blah blah blah. Just yesterday I searched the internet for a quote on silence and something out of bible seemed fitting, so I posted it on Facebook. I guess if I can put the good word out there to my 2,000 Facebook "friends", then one must assume those words are anointed and my life has been dedicated to the service of God. And if dedication is all it takes, then how come the only preacher I've ever known spent his entire life devoted to teaching the word of the good book and in his golden years he's stricken with cancer. Sometimes life doesn't make sense.
It isn't the first time I've questioned my belief in something. In fact, I do it a lot. Just last week, I found myself wondering if mermaids and aliens exist. And also questioning whether 21st century technology is really the greatest the world has ever known. I mean, could there have been societies in the past that were able to accomplish technological feats greater than ours? Why do we assume we're the end all be all? Are we really that pompous and conceited?
With me, if you believe in one, then you gotta believe in the other. If I see God in my world everyday, then don't I also see the work of the devil. I mean, anyone who turns on the news these days hears about the evil in the world. I'm positive that there's both good and evil in me. My actions aren't always morally accepted by the vast majority, but who says life has to flow exactly how the majority says it should. Sometimes standing up to the majority is what we need in this world to create change. Without change, we can't grow as individuals and collectively. Word!
When asked about my belief system, I've always said I'm a realist. What that means, who knows, but if Jesus is real, then why hasn't he shown himself to me? I've never met the guy, so how can I believe? For me, the Bible is just a good book full of great stories. Heck, there are a lot of good books that someone wrote. And the fact that someone wrote it, leaves things open to interpretation. In every book there's room for interpretation. We read the words and involve ourselves in stories knowing darn well that it's not EXACTLY how it really happened. When I was a journalist that was the toughest thing about covering sports. I never wanted to play favorites, but I couldn't help but let my bias trickle in to what I was writing. That's just the nature of it. An author can claim to be objective, but that's a claim nobody can fully achieve.
So, maybe it was just a dream. And maybe it was my subconscious trying to tell me something. There may come a day of reckoning when I'm asked about my beliefs again. A time when a higher power will compute and calculate all my "immoral" behavior and determine if I'm worthy of that next step into heaven. By then I'd imagine I'll probably be so old and curmudgeon that my cantankerous ways would likely look that person directly in the eye and tell them to mind their own fucking business so I can go back to sleep. Maybe I better think twice before cursing out the Almighty. I could be condemned to a world of eternal damnation. I guess if my sins take me to that place, then that's where I belong. Heck, maybe I'll see you there.
As I sat down, one of the students asked me why I wasn't down with Jesus and I told him I didn't really wanna talk about it. Truth is, I woke up with a feeling of shame in my answer. It was strong enough that it woke me from my dream to wonder about it some more. Am I really not a believer. Just because I don't regularly attend a place of worship, own a bible or read the good word -- all the things that make someone a good Christian.
Sometimes I find myself quoting the Bible. You know, do on to others...blah blah blah. Just yesterday I searched the internet for a quote on silence and something out of bible seemed fitting, so I posted it on Facebook. I guess if I can put the good word out there to my 2,000 Facebook "friends", then one must assume those words are anointed and my life has been dedicated to the service of God. And if dedication is all it takes, then how come the only preacher I've ever known spent his entire life devoted to teaching the word of the good book and in his golden years he's stricken with cancer. Sometimes life doesn't make sense.
It isn't the first time I've questioned my belief in something. In fact, I do it a lot. Just last week, I found myself wondering if mermaids and aliens exist. And also questioning whether 21st century technology is really the greatest the world has ever known. I mean, could there have been societies in the past that were able to accomplish technological feats greater than ours? Why do we assume we're the end all be all? Are we really that pompous and conceited?
With me, if you believe in one, then you gotta believe in the other. If I see God in my world everyday, then don't I also see the work of the devil. I mean, anyone who turns on the news these days hears about the evil in the world. I'm positive that there's both good and evil in me. My actions aren't always morally accepted by the vast majority, but who says life has to flow exactly how the majority says it should. Sometimes standing up to the majority is what we need in this world to create change. Without change, we can't grow as individuals and collectively. Word!
When asked about my belief system, I've always said I'm a realist. What that means, who knows, but if Jesus is real, then why hasn't he shown himself to me? I've never met the guy, so how can I believe? For me, the Bible is just a good book full of great stories. Heck, there are a lot of good books that someone wrote. And the fact that someone wrote it, leaves things open to interpretation. In every book there's room for interpretation. We read the words and involve ourselves in stories knowing darn well that it's not EXACTLY how it really happened. When I was a journalist that was the toughest thing about covering sports. I never wanted to play favorites, but I couldn't help but let my bias trickle in to what I was writing. That's just the nature of it. An author can claim to be objective, but that's a claim nobody can fully achieve.
So, maybe it was just a dream. And maybe it was my subconscious trying to tell me something. There may come a day of reckoning when I'm asked about my beliefs again. A time when a higher power will compute and calculate all my "immoral" behavior and determine if I'm worthy of that next step into heaven. By then I'd imagine I'll probably be so old and curmudgeon that my cantankerous ways would likely look that person directly in the eye and tell them to mind their own fucking business so I can go back to sleep. Maybe I better think twice before cursing out the Almighty. I could be condemned to a world of eternal damnation. I guess if my sins take me to that place, then that's where I belong. Heck, maybe I'll see you there.
Friday, June 7, 2013
A pre-teen moment...Tees are 2 for $5 at Mens Choice!
A little girl walked into my store (1031 North State Street Suite 110) with her dad the other day. Apparently she had spilled something on her shirt and they saw the rack of t-shirts outside my store priced 2 for $5 and just had to find a replacement. Her dad found a tee for himself and a couple for his daughter and I couldn't help but think back to a simpler time when I was 10 years old.
Unlike many who walk by and comment. This little girl didn't care if the tees were second hand. She didn't care that my store was a "Men's" store. She didn't care who saw her hanging with her old man. She was just happy to be spending time with her dad and that he took the time to take her to the store and buy her some new tees. She was so happy with her tees. You could see the joy in her face.
Unfortunately, this 10-year old will soon be a teenager and all that will likely change. She won't wanna hang with her dad anymore. Her friends will convince her that buying second hand is not "cool". She'll likely only buy high end brands that will cost her dad an arm and a leg.
All you parents of pre-teens should be thankful for those times you get to spend with your kids before those teenage tendencies kick in. And if you wanna stop by Mens Choice for some tees, they're 2 for $5. ...:)
Unlike many who walk by and comment. This little girl didn't care if the tees were second hand. She didn't care that my store was a "Men's" store. She didn't care who saw her hanging with her old man. She was just happy to be spending time with her dad and that he took the time to take her to the store and buy her some new tees. She was so happy with her tees. You could see the joy in her face.
Unfortunately, this 10-year old will soon be a teenager and all that will likely change. She won't wanna hang with her dad anymore. Her friends will convince her that buying second hand is not "cool". She'll likely only buy high end brands that will cost her dad an arm and a leg.
All you parents of pre-teens should be thankful for those times you get to spend with your kids before those teenage tendencies kick in. And if you wanna stop by Mens Choice for some tees, they're 2 for $5. ...:)
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
"No homo" ... "Because y'all motherfuckers don't watch us play..." Really Roy???
As much as I love rooting against Lebron James and the Miami Heat, I can't help but get a little angry that Indiana Pacers big man Roy Hibbert used the game's biggest stage to drop a homophobic slur and curse out reporters in a televised interview after game 6.
Hibbert said, "I really felt that I let Paul down in terms of having his back when LeBron was scoring in the post or getting to the paint. Because they stretched me out so much, no homo." He later added, in reference to questions about his low placement in voting for defensive player of the year, "You know what, because y'all motherfuckers don't watch us play throughout the year, to tell you the truth" ... "I don't care if I get fined".
Well, if you don't care, then how about you pay a cool $75K for your remarks. That's what Hibbert had to shell out for his comments. But this isn't the first time the NBA has had to hand out fines for homophobic comments after a game. Kobe Bryant ($100K), Joakim Noah ($50K) and Amar'e Stoudemire ($50K) also received fines for similar remarks.
It just reminds me how important it is to choose your words carefully. It's easy for someone to say screw what others expect of me and make life all about themselves, but it takes a stronger person to admit their faults, tackle problems head on and live in the present.
Someone's sexual orientation shouldn't matter on the basketball court. When Jason Collins outed himself to the world as the first openly gay man in the NBA, Hibbert and the rest should have taken notice and changed their ways.
If you ask me, fining him $75K wasn't enough. The guy makes $14.3 million this year and will get another $14.9 million next season, so $75K is just pocket change. NBA commissioner David Stern needs to get tougher on these guys so they watch what they say in interviews.
If it was me, Hibbert would have been suspended from game 7 and fined $1 million dollars. Maybe then he'll think twice before he opens his mouth and offends an entire population of men and women.
Hibbert said, "I really felt that I let Paul down in terms of having his back when LeBron was scoring in the post or getting to the paint. Because they stretched me out so much, no homo." He later added, in reference to questions about his low placement in voting for defensive player of the year, "You know what, because y'all motherfuckers don't watch us play throughout the year, to tell you the truth" ... "I don't care if I get fined".
Well, if you don't care, then how about you pay a cool $75K for your remarks. That's what Hibbert had to shell out for his comments. But this isn't the first time the NBA has had to hand out fines for homophobic comments after a game. Kobe Bryant ($100K), Joakim Noah ($50K) and Amar'e Stoudemire ($50K) also received fines for similar remarks.
It just reminds me how important it is to choose your words carefully. It's easy for someone to say screw what others expect of me and make life all about themselves, but it takes a stronger person to admit their faults, tackle problems head on and live in the present.
Someone's sexual orientation shouldn't matter on the basketball court. When Jason Collins outed himself to the world as the first openly gay man in the NBA, Hibbert and the rest should have taken notice and changed their ways.
If you ask me, fining him $75K wasn't enough. The guy makes $14.3 million this year and will get another $14.9 million next season, so $75K is just pocket change. NBA commissioner David Stern needs to get tougher on these guys so they watch what they say in interviews.
If it was me, Hibbert would have been suspended from game 7 and fined $1 million dollars. Maybe then he'll think twice before he opens his mouth and offends an entire population of men and women.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Express yourself ... now go find your camera. Wait, I got one!!!
Sometimes it's hard for people to express themselves. That's one of the reasons why I like photography. It allows people to express themselves. Hell, even I can do it. A picture is worth a thousand words and I don't think people should be afraid to express themselves. Use those thousand and then some. Tell us how you really feel. In all seriousness, I commend those who are brave enough to put themselves out to the public through pictures. Whether taken by themselves, a family member or semi-pro like myself, stepping in front of the camera's lens to try and express yourself is tough.
Through my short time playing around in the studio, I've learned how difficult it can be to get a model to convey the vision you have for them. Ya, sometimes I have a vision, but, truthfully, I usually just leave that up to the model. It's just more fun to sit back and watch them create something. Sure, snapping a great picture is sometimes about luck, but, like anything, most of the time it's about trying really hard. The photographer has to try, the model has to try, and the lighting and backdrop have to be just right in order to get that one in a million moment.
I'm friends with almost 3 thousand people on Facebook, and lots of them are really great photographers, so I get to view a lot of pictures. I must admit that some days it keeps me entertained for hours. Not every photo calls out to me, but I commend those of you who continually express yourselves through photography. The few, the proud, the Marines. Oh wait, that's not what I meant to say...:) I guess I just want to say it's great to have a community of "friends" so willing to express themselves. And if you pick up the camera and get stuck, feel free to call on me. I'm more than happy to point mine at you and watch you create...:)
Through my short time playing around in the studio, I've learned how difficult it can be to get a model to convey the vision you have for them. Ya, sometimes I have a vision, but, truthfully, I usually just leave that up to the model. It's just more fun to sit back and watch them create something. Sure, snapping a great picture is sometimes about luck, but, like anything, most of the time it's about trying really hard. The photographer has to try, the model has to try, and the lighting and backdrop have to be just right in order to get that one in a million moment.
I'm friends with almost 3 thousand people on Facebook, and lots of them are really great photographers, so I get to view a lot of pictures. I must admit that some days it keeps me entertained for hours. Not every photo calls out to me, but I commend those of you who continually express yourselves through photography. The few, the proud, the Marines. Oh wait, that's not what I meant to say...:) I guess I just want to say it's great to have a community of "friends" so willing to express themselves. And if you pick up the camera and get stuck, feel free to call on me. I'm more than happy to point mine at you and watch you create...:)
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Fatherly & White Trash tendencies. Am I the only one?
As I get older, I've realized that I've reluctantly adopted some fatherly and white trash tendencies. Let me explain.
When it comes to the fatherly bug, I don't mean I wanna get freaky and make babies, but I do find myself thinking more fatherly. For example, my new neighbors have a pre-teen boy. As I mowed the lawn today, he and his buddies sped down the hill tucking noses to their handle bars, hair flying as they pedaled furiously and coasted full speed over and over racing to the bottom. It was kind of fun to watch such reckless abandon and their enthusiasm for riding bikes is commendable, but I couldn't help but wanna tell them to slow down and go find helmets. I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut this time, but the older I get the more I realize these fatherly tendencies are creeping into my consciousness.
When it comes to white trash I guess that's always kind of been in my wheelhouse. I mean, I am about as white as it gets. And I do like Bud Light, Pamela Anderson and muscle cars, but who doesn't, right? Don't get me wrong, I haven't gone full boar and started chewing Copenhagen, wearing trucker hats and "wife beater" tank tops. When your arms are as skinny as mine, tank tops are the enemy. I leave that look to my Cambodian brethren. Lately, I have found myself wanting to use white trash language. It just sounds cool to me. Unfortunately, women down't like to be called broads and wives aren't keen on being referred to as old ladies, but when you hear some dude talk white trashy, it just sounds cool.
When it comes to the fatherly bug, I don't mean I wanna get freaky and make babies, but I do find myself thinking more fatherly. For example, my new neighbors have a pre-teen boy. As I mowed the lawn today, he and his buddies sped down the hill tucking noses to their handle bars, hair flying as they pedaled furiously and coasted full speed over and over racing to the bottom. It was kind of fun to watch such reckless abandon and their enthusiasm for riding bikes is commendable, but I couldn't help but wanna tell them to slow down and go find helmets. I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut this time, but the older I get the more I realize these fatherly tendencies are creeping into my consciousness.
When it comes to white trash I guess that's always kind of been in my wheelhouse. I mean, I am about as white as it gets. And I do like Bud Light, Pamela Anderson and muscle cars, but who doesn't, right? Don't get me wrong, I haven't gone full boar and started chewing Copenhagen, wearing trucker hats and "wife beater" tank tops. When your arms are as skinny as mine, tank tops are the enemy. I leave that look to my Cambodian brethren. Lately, I have found myself wanting to use white trash language. It just sounds cool to me. Unfortunately, women down't like to be called broads and wives aren't keen on being referred to as old ladies, but when you hear some dude talk white trashy, it just sounds cool.
F-it, recovery means it's time to embrace the heater crew & nipple burn
So, if you've asked, I must admit that I've been telling people it's been almost a decade since I started doing the running leg of the Ski To Sea Race each year. I did some research and it turns out I started in 2006, so it's only been like 8 races, but sometimes it feels like a lifetime. Now, almost a week after my latest trek down the mountain (last Sunday), my body has finally recovered. After two days of hobbling around like an invalid and three more stretching and gingerly jogging the pain out of my legs, the good news is that I'm almost back to full force again.
This year I got to run the race in the rain and everyone knows that's my favorite (sense the sarcasm?). The 8-mile downhill course is always hard on my body, but running in a downpour of rain makes it that much more grueling. Okay, to be completely honest, it was actually more of a gentle sprinkle, but when it's 50 degrees on the top of the mountain and that gentle sprinkle continuously trickles down on you, it's a "downpour" in my book.
After eight miles downhill in a cold sprinkle, I mean downpour, it was interesting to see the racers huddled around two space heaters at the road bike transition area. The previous year it had been gorgeous weather and everyone basked in the sunshine. Hell, i think I even had to put on sunscreen. So, like me, there were more than a few returning racers who neglected to have dry clothes waiting for them at the transition area. Those people were the heater crew. As I stood there among my heater crew, I couldn't help but think that these were my kind of people. Someone dropped their gloves and everyone let out a collective groan because they knew someone would have to squad in order to pick them up. I took one for the team and painfully squatted for the group, getting some impressive looks for my kind gesture and ability to convincingly pull off a full squad after 8 miles downhill. As we stood there, I tried to be a gentleman and let the females stand closer to the heat, but truthfully I wanted that warmth. Hey, I'm skinny and my body doesn't do well in cold weather.
After seven races, I know a few things about preparing to run the Ski to Sea race. I know that in order to avoid gnarly blisters and losing toenails, you need to wear two pair of socks and cut your toenails short, but this year I learned a new lesson. Since it was cold, I made a last-minute decision to wear two t-shirts while running. After eight miles of those two rain-soaked t-shirts bouncing up and down, I got home, hopped in the shower and discovered a painful nipple burn like none other. It's one time I can be thankful to have a young mother on the support squad so there was someone to empathize with after the race and knew exactly what I was going through. She even offered some of her nipple cream that I begrudgingly declined. When it comes to nipples, I'm as tough as they come...haha!
I guess rain in May is nothing new for Washingtonians, but I do get tired of it. It's one of the few times I get fed up and find myself cursing my life. Sometimes it just helps to say F-it. With me, it's usually F-eBay or F-Washington weather. I guess if that's as bad as it gets I don't have much to complain about. I mean, what's a little nipple burn and a few blisters among friends. I feel better knowing that my heater crew are experiencing the same things. It's still too soon to say if I'll do it again next year, but if I do, I'm adding band-aids and gloves to my bag. You know, to prevent nipple burn.
This year I got to run the race in the rain and everyone knows that's my favorite (sense the sarcasm?). The 8-mile downhill course is always hard on my body, but running in a downpour of rain makes it that much more grueling. Okay, to be completely honest, it was actually more of a gentle sprinkle, but when it's 50 degrees on the top of the mountain and that gentle sprinkle continuously trickles down on you, it's a "downpour" in my book.
After eight miles downhill in a cold sprinkle, I mean downpour, it was interesting to see the racers huddled around two space heaters at the road bike transition area. The previous year it had been gorgeous weather and everyone basked in the sunshine. Hell, i think I even had to put on sunscreen. So, like me, there were more than a few returning racers who neglected to have dry clothes waiting for them at the transition area. Those people were the heater crew. As I stood there among my heater crew, I couldn't help but think that these were my kind of people. Someone dropped their gloves and everyone let out a collective groan because they knew someone would have to squad in order to pick them up. I took one for the team and painfully squatted for the group, getting some impressive looks for my kind gesture and ability to convincingly pull off a full squad after 8 miles downhill. As we stood there, I tried to be a gentleman and let the females stand closer to the heat, but truthfully I wanted that warmth. Hey, I'm skinny and my body doesn't do well in cold weather.
After seven races, I know a few things about preparing to run the Ski to Sea race. I know that in order to avoid gnarly blisters and losing toenails, you need to wear two pair of socks and cut your toenails short, but this year I learned a new lesson. Since it was cold, I made a last-minute decision to wear two t-shirts while running. After eight miles of those two rain-soaked t-shirts bouncing up and down, I got home, hopped in the shower and discovered a painful nipple burn like none other. It's one time I can be thankful to have a young mother on the support squad so there was someone to empathize with after the race and knew exactly what I was going through. She even offered some of her nipple cream that I begrudgingly declined. When it comes to nipples, I'm as tough as they come...haha!
I guess rain in May is nothing new for Washingtonians, but I do get tired of it. It's one of the few times I get fed up and find myself cursing my life. Sometimes it just helps to say F-it. With me, it's usually F-eBay or F-Washington weather. I guess if that's as bad as it gets I don't have much to complain about. I mean, what's a little nipple burn and a few blisters among friends. I feel better knowing that my heater crew are experiencing the same things. It's still too soon to say if I'll do it again next year, but if I do, I'm adding band-aids and gloves to my bag. You know, to prevent nipple burn.
Monday, May 27, 2013
A year older and that's what you get when Wu Tang raised you...:)
Sometimes I think that there's a lot of strange things that go through my mind. Most of it happens on the short runs I take around Lake Padden.
Like, on a recent run, I couldn't help but wonder what you'd REALLY get if Wu Tang raised you. I'd imagine that by a very young age you'd well versed in rolling the perfect joint, quoting Bruce Lee movies and hitting up the studio to drop 16 bars like nobody's business. Well, maybe I just better be thankful for good ole mom and dad.
Some people have said my blog lacks a REAL look into my personal experiences and that I don't get real enough and talk about the stuff people REALLY wanna hear. Well, it's about to get REALLY REAL people. Are you ready?
This year I got a year older and my body is letting me know it. When I turned 30 a few years back, my hair started thinning and I realized my youth was slowly fading. Since I don't have 10 grand to give Mr. Bosley to plug me with that perfect head of hair you see in the commercials, I pretty much just deal with it. It's part of life. You wear your hair a little different, invest in some hats and call it good.
But as I age ever closer to that ominous mid-life 40th birthday, my body is REALLY getting back at me for all that I put it through the last 36 years. It's letting me know loud and clear that I'm no spring chicken. I'm not sure how to put it exactly, but, this year I bought my very first tube of hemorrhoidal cream. Ya, the stress of opening my business to the public again apparently threw my body into a tailspin and I found myself at the Haggen in search of the magical ointment that would ease my pain.
Of course, one just doesn't go into the Haggen and buy hemorrhoidal cream. Naturally, I picked up a grapefruit, hot dogs, some hot dog buns (fitting, right?) and a bag of chips to bring to the counter and disguise my first mid-life medical purchase. There was a cute girl in check stand one, but for the first time in my life I opted for the older gal in check stand 2 who would be more understanding to the plight of the middle aged man.
Ya, life has gotten rather complicated lately. It's getting nasty and there's no stoppin' it. My youth is but a memory. I now have two mortgages that need to be paid every month. My niece and nephews are now driving cars and dating. Hell, I even have divorced friends starting their second families. I'm still guilty of living vicariously through the young people who enter my life, but my body definitely is no longer pulling any punches when it comes to those middle-aged reminders. I guess I should just embrace it and go along for the ride.
I suppose that I could always ask: What would Wu-Tang do? But I'm sure I'd be better off just giving mom and dad a call. Of course, something tells me Method Man just might have some insight into a quick hemorrhoidal cure. He might even keep it in the dollar box he keeps on top of the fridge. Just in case he needs to make a trip to the Haggen for "hot dog buns"...:)
Like, on a recent run, I couldn't help but wonder what you'd REALLY get if Wu Tang raised you. I'd imagine that by a very young age you'd well versed in rolling the perfect joint, quoting Bruce Lee movies and hitting up the studio to drop 16 bars like nobody's business. Well, maybe I just better be thankful for good ole mom and dad.
Some people have said my blog lacks a REAL look into my personal experiences and that I don't get real enough and talk about the stuff people REALLY wanna hear. Well, it's about to get REALLY REAL people. Are you ready?
This year I got a year older and my body is letting me know it. When I turned 30 a few years back, my hair started thinning and I realized my youth was slowly fading. Since I don't have 10 grand to give Mr. Bosley to plug me with that perfect head of hair you see in the commercials, I pretty much just deal with it. It's part of life. You wear your hair a little different, invest in some hats and call it good.
But as I age ever closer to that ominous mid-life 40th birthday, my body is REALLY getting back at me for all that I put it through the last 36 years. It's letting me know loud and clear that I'm no spring chicken. I'm not sure how to put it exactly, but, this year I bought my very first tube of hemorrhoidal cream. Ya, the stress of opening my business to the public again apparently threw my body into a tailspin and I found myself at the Haggen in search of the magical ointment that would ease my pain.
Of course, one just doesn't go into the Haggen and buy hemorrhoidal cream. Naturally, I picked up a grapefruit, hot dogs, some hot dog buns (fitting, right?) and a bag of chips to bring to the counter and disguise my first mid-life medical purchase. There was a cute girl in check stand one, but for the first time in my life I opted for the older gal in check stand 2 who would be more understanding to the plight of the middle aged man.
Ya, life has gotten rather complicated lately. It's getting nasty and there's no stoppin' it. My youth is but a memory. I now have two mortgages that need to be paid every month. My niece and nephews are now driving cars and dating. Hell, I even have divorced friends starting their second families. I'm still guilty of living vicariously through the young people who enter my life, but my body definitely is no longer pulling any punches when it comes to those middle-aged reminders. I guess I should just embrace it and go along for the ride.
I suppose that I could always ask: What would Wu-Tang do? But I'm sure I'd be better off just giving mom and dad a call. Of course, something tells me Method Man just might have some insight into a quick hemorrhoidal cure. He might even keep it in the dollar box he keeps on top of the fridge. Just in case he needs to make a trip to the Haggen for "hot dog buns"...:)
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Is it okay to profit off the generosity of others?
I don't get angry very often, but every now and then someone says something that sets me off. For those of you who don't know, I run an online clothing store on eBay. For the past decade I've been finding deals at thrift stores and selling them online for profit. Well, as I loaded up on shoes at the Bellingham Goodwill, a lady came over to me and asked if I planned to resell those shoes. I politely told her I was going to resell them and she responded: "You shouldn't profit off the generosity of others."
When you work behind a computer most of the day, you tend to welcome conversation from strangers. It often is the only thing that gets me to think about stuff differently. And this lady's comment definitely got me thinking. At first it was: "The nerve of some people, why don't you mind your own business!!!" Then I channeled my father and thought, well, "Opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one". It wasn't necessarily her comment that got me riled up, it was the tone in which she delivered it. As if to look at me and say "Tsk Tsk, shame on you!!!" If she only knew the time, money and energy it takes to turn a profit online these days. Ultimately, I let the comment slide without a reply and walked away from the shoe section in search of more deals. But I couldn't help replaying her statement in my mind and wondering if I really was morally at fault for profiting off the generosity of others.
It was something I'd never really thought about in all the time I've eBayed. I mean, when I think about the amount of money I've spent at Goodwill in the last decade, I'm sure they'd welcome my business. They money I spend at Goodwill helps train people to get back in the workforce and I'm sure my community is a better place as a result of my monetary contribution to Goodwill and other stores I frequent. Maybe this lady was just mad because I got to the shoes before she did. Then again, maybe she was just in a nasty mood and wanted me to think twice about snagging up all the good deals. As I thought about it more, I realized that if I was there profiting off the generosity of others, then so was she and we were actually both at fault. "Tsk Tsk lady!!!"
When it comes down to it, it's not like I'm begging on the street corner for money. I'm working a system that provides me and many others with jobs. I'm stimulating the economy, recycling goods, paying my taxes and living the American dream of self employment. Sure, sometimes I feel a little like I'm begging when I try to promote my businesses. But, in the end, I provide services and encourage people to take advantage of my services. Whether they choose to check it out or not is up to them.
So if I'm morally at fault for doing what I'm doing, I guess I'll have to meet my maker one day and make my argument. I just hope that when I die and the pearly gates open and I'm in line ready to plead my case to the Almighty; please don't let this lady be standing behind me in line. Test me once and I can walk away politely and bite my tongue, but if this lady is there to put her two cents in again, she might not like the verbal assault I'll have to unleash on her. Oh Lord have mercy...:)
When you work behind a computer most of the day, you tend to welcome conversation from strangers. It often is the only thing that gets me to think about stuff differently. And this lady's comment definitely got me thinking. At first it was: "The nerve of some people, why don't you mind your own business!!!" Then I channeled my father and thought, well, "Opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one". It wasn't necessarily her comment that got me riled up, it was the tone in which she delivered it. As if to look at me and say "Tsk Tsk, shame on you!!!" If she only knew the time, money and energy it takes to turn a profit online these days. Ultimately, I let the comment slide without a reply and walked away from the shoe section in search of more deals. But I couldn't help replaying her statement in my mind and wondering if I really was morally at fault for profiting off the generosity of others.
It was something I'd never really thought about in all the time I've eBayed. I mean, when I think about the amount of money I've spent at Goodwill in the last decade, I'm sure they'd welcome my business. They money I spend at Goodwill helps train people to get back in the workforce and I'm sure my community is a better place as a result of my monetary contribution to Goodwill and other stores I frequent. Maybe this lady was just mad because I got to the shoes before she did. Then again, maybe she was just in a nasty mood and wanted me to think twice about snagging up all the good deals. As I thought about it more, I realized that if I was there profiting off the generosity of others, then so was she and we were actually both at fault. "Tsk Tsk lady!!!"
When it comes down to it, it's not like I'm begging on the street corner for money. I'm working a system that provides me and many others with jobs. I'm stimulating the economy, recycling goods, paying my taxes and living the American dream of self employment. Sure, sometimes I feel a little like I'm begging when I try to promote my businesses. But, in the end, I provide services and encourage people to take advantage of my services. Whether they choose to check it out or not is up to them.
So if I'm morally at fault for doing what I'm doing, I guess I'll have to meet my maker one day and make my argument. I just hope that when I die and the pearly gates open and I'm in line ready to plead my case to the Almighty; please don't let this lady be standing behind me in line. Test me once and I can walk away politely and bite my tongue, but if this lady is there to put her two cents in again, she might not like the verbal assault I'll have to unleash on her. Oh Lord have mercy...:)
Monday, May 6, 2013
Life Lessons Learned
As I edited soccer photos this morning, my mind wandered about the lessons a young adult learns from competing in sport. As I sat there and edited picture after picture of soccer players battling for possession of the ball, it hit me that there are significant life lessons that these kids are learning out there.
That ball is a symbol of what everyone wants. He who has the ball, has the glory. He has his shining moment before his peers. Maybe I'm able to catch him in an action photo with that ball and he's going to become Facebook famous for all his friends to admire. Then again, maybe he does the right things with that ball and it results in a goal that earns the team the win and gets his name in the newspaper. If you think about it, even the word goal is there. Ultimately, he's reached his goal.
As I looked over the photos this morning I realized that each one of those kids put in hours of hard work and preparation just to have a chance to earn that jersey and suit up to represent their school. Out of thousands of kids, only 11 had what it takes to rise to the top and earn a position on the field.
In soccer, like in life, for some kids the ball just falls at their foot. They're in the right position and have what it takes to deal with the situations in front of them. Still others have to work hard to get in the picture. Some kids ride the bench for years before getting a moment. And still others sit on the sidelines and wish they had the talent to compete with the elite 11 they admire from afar.
One of the most important life lessons sport teaches is the ability to communicate. In my 30 minutes shooting soccer at Meridian High School the other day, I watched the King's goalie holler at his defenders and also watched how the defenders responded to his communication. Some of them listened and responded to his suggestions, but there was the one kid who turned to him and said: "Really?" Well, I guess not everyone responds well to being hollered at. Not only do kids learn how to communicate with each other, they learn the importance of communication with referees, coaches and fans. If you want the glory, then you're gonna have to learn to communicate with authority figures. That's a lesson we all learn really quick. Respect and decorum are paramount in sport.
Everyone wants to feel like what they say and do in life is important. I know I do! They want to be significant in the lives of those around them and make positive impacts on others. That holds true on the soccer field. Sure, in "real" life it doesn't always work out that way, but it's what we all should strive toward.
Yes, these kids are definitely learning valuable life lessons. If they want to keep the ball, it takes work. It takes hustle, smart decisions and determination. Once these kids graduate, get married and buy a house, they'll know what it takes to earn the money to pay that mortgage each month. They'll know the time it takes to maintain a marriage, a friendship and a job. They learned it playing soccer. Maybe it's a bit of a stretch to say some kid's ability to kick a ball translates into all that, but it certainly doesn't hurt.
That ball is a symbol of what everyone wants. He who has the ball, has the glory. He has his shining moment before his peers. Maybe I'm able to catch him in an action photo with that ball and he's going to become Facebook famous for all his friends to admire. Then again, maybe he does the right things with that ball and it results in a goal that earns the team the win and gets his name in the newspaper. If you think about it, even the word goal is there. Ultimately, he's reached his goal.
As I looked over the photos this morning I realized that each one of those kids put in hours of hard work and preparation just to have a chance to earn that jersey and suit up to represent their school. Out of thousands of kids, only 11 had what it takes to rise to the top and earn a position on the field.
In soccer, like in life, for some kids the ball just falls at their foot. They're in the right position and have what it takes to deal with the situations in front of them. Still others have to work hard to get in the picture. Some kids ride the bench for years before getting a moment. And still others sit on the sidelines and wish they had the talent to compete with the elite 11 they admire from afar.
One of the most important life lessons sport teaches is the ability to communicate. In my 30 minutes shooting soccer at Meridian High School the other day, I watched the King's goalie holler at his defenders and also watched how the defenders responded to his communication. Some of them listened and responded to his suggestions, but there was the one kid who turned to him and said: "Really?" Well, I guess not everyone responds well to being hollered at. Not only do kids learn how to communicate with each other, they learn the importance of communication with referees, coaches and fans. If you want the glory, then you're gonna have to learn to communicate with authority figures. That's a lesson we all learn really quick. Respect and decorum are paramount in sport.
Everyone wants to feel like what they say and do in life is important. I know I do! They want to be significant in the lives of those around them and make positive impacts on others. That holds true on the soccer field. Sure, in "real" life it doesn't always work out that way, but it's what we all should strive toward.
Yes, these kids are definitely learning valuable life lessons. If they want to keep the ball, it takes work. It takes hustle, smart decisions and determination. Once these kids graduate, get married and buy a house, they'll know what it takes to earn the money to pay that mortgage each month. They'll know the time it takes to maintain a marriage, a friendship and a job. They learned it playing soccer. Maybe it's a bit of a stretch to say some kid's ability to kick a ball translates into all that, but it certainly doesn't hurt.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Jump, bad decisions, algebra & the orange wobble board
If you haven't heard, one half of the rap group Kris Kross died of an apparent drug overdose. I can't say I'm surprised to hear of his passing at age 34. I guess once you get some money and a taste for the good life, it's hard to turn down that next high. Can you imagine having your greatest achievement come when you're 13 years old? That's what happened when this duo of Krises started wearing their clothes backward and recorded "Jump" with super producer Jermaine Dupri.
I mean, think back to when you were in 8th grade. You weren't touring with Michael Jackson behind the power of a Billboard hit. You were probably handing notes to your crush and wondering if she/he would "go" with you, whatever that meant. Come on now, admit it, who didn't pass notes with the yes, no and maybe boxes. The worst thing that could happen in your life was that she'd check the "no" box and you'd have to shift your efforts to one of her friends.
It doesn't really surprise me when young people make bad decisions. Especially when they weren't given the adequate time to learn and grow into healthy adults. When you're on the road at age 13, just imagine all the algebra you miss out on. And everyone knows that algebra transforms you into that well-rounded adult who makes smart life choices. These days, I try to put my energy into positive endeavors that can turn a few bucks and keep me with a roof over my head. But even I fall victim to some dumb life choices. I guess I should have paid more attention to 8th grade algebra and my life could have turned out better.
As I think back to 8th grade, I remember having a big wobbly orange skateboard. We lived at the top of a big hill, so, of course, once I was able to stand on my board, I had to try and bomb the hill. I got that orange wobble board up to about 20 miles per hour and halfway into my hill ride, down I go, removing about half the skin on my right shoulder. There was no helmet, no pads, not even an extra layer of clothing. Just me, a thin cotton t-shirt and the cement. Good thing mom was just steps away with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Man, I can still feel the burn. Yep, I'm sure I could have definitely used some algebra when calculating that life choice.
I mean, think back to when you were in 8th grade. You weren't touring with Michael Jackson behind the power of a Billboard hit. You were probably handing notes to your crush and wondering if she/he would "go" with you, whatever that meant. Come on now, admit it, who didn't pass notes with the yes, no and maybe boxes. The worst thing that could happen in your life was that she'd check the "no" box and you'd have to shift your efforts to one of her friends.
It doesn't really surprise me when young people make bad decisions. Especially when they weren't given the adequate time to learn and grow into healthy adults. When you're on the road at age 13, just imagine all the algebra you miss out on. And everyone knows that algebra transforms you into that well-rounded adult who makes smart life choices. These days, I try to put my energy into positive endeavors that can turn a few bucks and keep me with a roof over my head. But even I fall victim to some dumb life choices. I guess I should have paid more attention to 8th grade algebra and my life could have turned out better.
As I think back to 8th grade, I remember having a big wobbly orange skateboard. We lived at the top of a big hill, so, of course, once I was able to stand on my board, I had to try and bomb the hill. I got that orange wobble board up to about 20 miles per hour and halfway into my hill ride, down I go, removing about half the skin on my right shoulder. There was no helmet, no pads, not even an extra layer of clothing. Just me, a thin cotton t-shirt and the cement. Good thing mom was just steps away with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Man, I can still feel the burn. Yep, I'm sure I could have definitely used some algebra when calculating that life choice.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Disney girl/boy challenge...who has the upper hand
So, ratings of American Idol have slipped. Surprised? No, not really. I stopped watching. Who hasn't? Of course, in Hollywood that brings up the question of whether to replace Mariah Carey with Jennifer Lopez to boost ratings. Would it work? If you ask me, of course it would. I'd turn in again just for a chance to watch J. Lo, but I'm not really interested in Mariah anymore. I mean, it's J. Lo. There's just something about her. She has that "IT" factor. Hell, if you're going after the male demographic, why not just bring in Jessica Alba.
Sometimes I wonder why I bother to care about celebrities, but I do. Just the other day I found myself having the ultimate Disney girl conversation. After their days as Disney girls years ago, who still looks better, Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera? I argued Britney, but once Christina begins singing I realize she obviously won the talent battle.
But you can't have the Disney girl conversation without bringing the Disney boys into the mix. After all these years, who looks better, Justin Timberlake or Ryan Gosling? I see JT on the TV all the time. He's chillin' with Ellen, kickin' it with Jimmy Fallon and even hanging out with Jay Z and Barrack Obama. Plus, he has Jessica Beil on his arm. Last picture I saw of Gosling he was pumping gas with a horrible looking beard. With a beard like Gosling's, maybe he'd have a shot with Ke$ha, but that's about it. JT obviously has the upper hand there.
Sometimes I wonder why I bother to care about celebrities, but I do. Just the other day I found myself having the ultimate Disney girl conversation. After their days as Disney girls years ago, who still looks better, Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera? I argued Britney, but once Christina begins singing I realize she obviously won the talent battle.
But you can't have the Disney girl conversation without bringing the Disney boys into the mix. After all these years, who looks better, Justin Timberlake or Ryan Gosling? I see JT on the TV all the time. He's chillin' with Ellen, kickin' it with Jimmy Fallon and even hanging out with Jay Z and Barrack Obama. Plus, he has Jessica Beil on his arm. Last picture I saw of Gosling he was pumping gas with a horrible looking beard. With a beard like Gosling's, maybe he'd have a shot with Ke$ha, but that's about it. JT obviously has the upper hand there.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Just keep on keepin' on...:) Failure is NOT an option!!!
As my thirties slowly come to an end and I approach that ominous mid-life 40th birthday, one of the concepts I battle with daily is whether my life is a success or a failure. Sure, I've had a few miss steps along the way, but I think I continue to grow and learn with each year, which is really all you can ask for, right?
One of the things I love to observe is the energy given off and received at various events. I think that's why I love photographing sports so much. The youth involved in high school athletics always have such a joyful exuberance about life. To watch them compete and capture that excitement in pictures always brings me joy. Those memories are such a small part of life, but a part I feel honored to share with them.
I recently was invited to meet a new addition to this world. And I must say the energy a newborn gives off is like nothing else I've experienced. The love two parents exhibit is palpable. To just sit in it for a few hours is an experience in itself. It's something I'll never forget. The love a new mother has for her creation is above all else. And to see it, and talk about it, helps me realize the importance of the miracle of life my parents gave to me. Thanks MOM & DAD!
This year, like many before it, has been a trying time financially for me. To sit on the verge of a business breakthrough for so many years, yet never quite figure out how to take things to the next level is trying at times. Many of my friends make twice as much money as me and that realization is always tough for me to handle. If life is judged on the bottom line, then, obviously, I'm not winning. But winning and surviving are two separate things. I survive. I do it by continually working hard and relying on my work ethic to get by in life.
Giving up on something is tough. I've thought long and hard about giving up on my business ventures, but something always stops me. I think I'm stubborn. I think I'm scared. And I think I'm afraid to give up because, if I do, that admits failure. And nobody wants to be a failure. So I struggle through.
I recently had a conversation with my dad about money and the possibility of starting over at my age to give myself a better financial future. My dad had two careers and always did well financially, but I think my path is obviously different from his and that's sometimes hard for him to understand. My path has been chosen and it's not the easy one. My path involves long hours, struggle and sacrifice. It's what I've chosen and what makes me who I am. I was raised to skimp, save and get by, so it's what I know. It's in the genes my mother lovingly passed down to me. That Dutch blood runs deep through my veins and it's what will get me through this week, this year and many more to follow. They say you gotta just keep on keepin' on. So the next time you wonder how Brian's doing. Just know he's busy keepin' on. Because failure is not an option.
One of the things I love to observe is the energy given off and received at various events. I think that's why I love photographing sports so much. The youth involved in high school athletics always have such a joyful exuberance about life. To watch them compete and capture that excitement in pictures always brings me joy. Those memories are such a small part of life, but a part I feel honored to share with them.
I recently was invited to meet a new addition to this world. And I must say the energy a newborn gives off is like nothing else I've experienced. The love two parents exhibit is palpable. To just sit in it for a few hours is an experience in itself. It's something I'll never forget. The love a new mother has for her creation is above all else. And to see it, and talk about it, helps me realize the importance of the miracle of life my parents gave to me. Thanks MOM & DAD!
This year, like many before it, has been a trying time financially for me. To sit on the verge of a business breakthrough for so many years, yet never quite figure out how to take things to the next level is trying at times. Many of my friends make twice as much money as me and that realization is always tough for me to handle. If life is judged on the bottom line, then, obviously, I'm not winning. But winning and surviving are two separate things. I survive. I do it by continually working hard and relying on my work ethic to get by in life.
Giving up on something is tough. I've thought long and hard about giving up on my business ventures, but something always stops me. I think I'm stubborn. I think I'm scared. And I think I'm afraid to give up because, if I do, that admits failure. And nobody wants to be a failure. So I struggle through.
I recently had a conversation with my dad about money and the possibility of starting over at my age to give myself a better financial future. My dad had two careers and always did well financially, but I think my path is obviously different from his and that's sometimes hard for him to understand. My path has been chosen and it's not the easy one. My path involves long hours, struggle and sacrifice. It's what I've chosen and what makes me who I am. I was raised to skimp, save and get by, so it's what I know. It's in the genes my mother lovingly passed down to me. That Dutch blood runs deep through my veins and it's what will get me through this week, this year and many more to follow. They say you gotta just keep on keepin' on. So the next time you wonder how Brian's doing. Just know he's busy keepin' on. Because failure is not an option.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
I think there comes a time in your life when it's okay to give up on a dream. For me, I think that time is near.
When I was little, I always wanted to own my own business. I wanted a baseball card shop where I could sell cards and make a living. I don't think I ever imagined how it would all work out or even thought about it as "making a living". I didn't think about having multiple mortgages or the cost of leasing a good space that would get me customers. Or the cost of advertising. Or having to pay Comcast every month. Or having to pay insurance on my place. Or electricity. Or parking. In fact, come to think of it, I didn't think about much. I just wanted a card shop.
At that age, I'd been to card shops and I thought they were cool. There was one I would ride my bike for miles and eventually walk my bike up the 164th Street hill just to check out what they had to offer. Back then it was an adventure, a pilgrimage of sorts. Once you got there, you'd have all the latest players out in display cases. They were all carefully displayed in hard plastic cases. They had the latest rookie cards and those hard-to-find limited edition cards. It was fun to see the rare and mint condition stuff I could never afford. Thinking back on it now, I'm pretty sure I mostly just went to look. Every now and then I'd scrape together enough dough to buy a pack. I can remember opening those packs, hoping to get some rare rookie I could sell back to the shop owner for a profit, but I never had much luck. I usually just left with a handful of commons and a stick of gum. I'm sure those "rare" cards were no more than $5 to $10, but I never had that much money. I wasn't from Mill Creek. I lived on the other side of the gate...:) (inside joke).
After I left the newspaper business in 2005, I did start my own business. I'd actually been successfully eBaying since I graduated college in 1999. At first it was just buying a few shirts and flipping them for profit. Then, the process expanded. Those few shirts turned into stacks of shirts that I'd move out of a small office in my parent's Marysville rambler. By the time I moved back to Bellingham in 2004, I had a downtown apartment filled with stacks of clothes. I'm sure it was a major fire hazard, but nobody ever complained and I had a great time and made a lot of money doing it. I mean, "a lot" is a relative term. My rent was cheap, my expenses were minimal and I wasn't worried about living the good life. I remember going to the Hostess shop around the corner, loading up on three loafs of bread for $1 and sitting there in my apartment that summer eating peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and drinking ice cold Coca Cola. I was living the good life of a successful eBayer and life didn't get much better than that.
To be continued...
Blog ideas ( if you have something you want me to write about, let me know and I'll add it)
Success vs. Failure
Selling the business
Addicted to eBay
Models
Facebook unfriending me!!!
When I was little, I always wanted to own my own business. I wanted a baseball card shop where I could sell cards and make a living. I don't think I ever imagined how it would all work out or even thought about it as "making a living". I didn't think about having multiple mortgages or the cost of leasing a good space that would get me customers. Or the cost of advertising. Or having to pay Comcast every month. Or having to pay insurance on my place. Or electricity. Or parking. In fact, come to think of it, I didn't think about much. I just wanted a card shop.
At that age, I'd been to card shops and I thought they were cool. There was one I would ride my bike for miles and eventually walk my bike up the 164th Street hill just to check out what they had to offer. Back then it was an adventure, a pilgrimage of sorts. Once you got there, you'd have all the latest players out in display cases. They were all carefully displayed in hard plastic cases. They had the latest rookie cards and those hard-to-find limited edition cards. It was fun to see the rare and mint condition stuff I could never afford. Thinking back on it now, I'm pretty sure I mostly just went to look. Every now and then I'd scrape together enough dough to buy a pack. I can remember opening those packs, hoping to get some rare rookie I could sell back to the shop owner for a profit, but I never had much luck. I usually just left with a handful of commons and a stick of gum. I'm sure those "rare" cards were no more than $5 to $10, but I never had that much money. I wasn't from Mill Creek. I lived on the other side of the gate...:) (inside joke).
After I left the newspaper business in 2005, I did start my own business. I'd actually been successfully eBaying since I graduated college in 1999. At first it was just buying a few shirts and flipping them for profit. Then, the process expanded. Those few shirts turned into stacks of shirts that I'd move out of a small office in my parent's Marysville rambler. By the time I moved back to Bellingham in 2004, I had a downtown apartment filled with stacks of clothes. I'm sure it was a major fire hazard, but nobody ever complained and I had a great time and made a lot of money doing it. I mean, "a lot" is a relative term. My rent was cheap, my expenses were minimal and I wasn't worried about living the good life. I remember going to the Hostess shop around the corner, loading up on three loafs of bread for $1 and sitting there in my apartment that summer eating peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and drinking ice cold Coca Cola. I was living the good life of a successful eBayer and life didn't get much better than that.
To be continued...
Blog ideas ( if you have something you want me to write about, let me know and I'll add it)
Success vs. Failure
Selling the business
Addicted to eBay
Models
Facebook unfriending me!!!
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