Are You Ready? Who Cares.

The Idea of being “ready” is a barrier to your success. You don’t need to be ready, you need to be willing to dive in.

Soon after I graduated college I got a call from a drummer friend of mine to come play, i.e. audition, for a country artist. I said sure. Mainly because I had no idea what was going on.

He sent me the songs to learn, and I did my due diligence memorizing the songs as best as possible. I thought it would look weak if I walked in with notes or cheat sheets for the songs.

So I show up to the professional rehearsal space (my first time) with my amateur Peavey bass amp, a blue 1989 Fender Precision Plus and I’m not sure if I even owned a tuner pedal at that point.

When I walked in, the other musicians were swapping stories of their latest trips around the globe having toured with various country music stars. I had played an out of town gig once too…in Memphis, with a friend…for the bar tenders.

I was definitely intimidated by all these guys and thought about sneaking out during the down section of a chorus or something. But the exit door was in view of everyone, soooo.

Two weeks later I was on a plane with all of those people, traveling outside of the USA to play my instrument.

Stop waiting to be ready. Just get going.

Suits

I really love ESPN and watching sports in general. I remember in high school watching SportsCenter multiple times in a row, knowing all the top plays and all the amazing little SportsCenter jokes.

But lately I can’t help thinking something. If sports announcers and analysts didn’t wear suits, would we value their analysis the same?

What if they wore jeans and t-shirts like me and my friends do when we talk about sports?

The suits give a strange sense of sophistication to otherwise pretty meaningless banter. It definitely makes me feel better about watching hours of well dressed professionals talk about sports, rather than hearing dudes in over sized t-shirts (ain’t none of those guys shopping at American Apparel) spout their speculation about the upcoming game.

Gross. I can do that at any sports bar in town.

That’s what it is isn’t it. The suits provide value and make us feel good. Makes us feel expensive. Makes us feel less depressed about wasting time watching cable.

And after watching all this, we feel that somehow our knowledge is boosted and our opinion matters or is relevant to the outcome in some way.

I’m not against suits. I have some.

But you could ask someone about their thoughts on the latest in hotel carpet design, and if they were wearing their Sunday three piece suit with a gigantic tie-knot, and an ear piece in with someone else telling them exactly what to say…I’d probably be into it.

I love sports. Next time, imagine the analysts in track suits and see how you feel.

I did. It’s different.

A Little More Olympics

I want to go back to the Olympics for a minute. They suck me in. Sports I’ve never heard of, countries that might as well be made up as it pertains to my geographical knowledge.

A big reason of why the Olympics are what they is that athletes can’t switch teams. I know I know, it happens sometimes, but you get it.

A participant is tied to the country they’re from. They can’t accept more money from another country to come ice skate for their team. They can’t switch teams cause they enjoy another countries weather more.

You can’t change where you’re from. One of the few decisions we have zero control over in life.

But this limit set on the Olympics holds the charm of the whole thing. Loyalty. And your home country knowing that you are theirs forever. You’re not leaving after this season.

Knowing that my American athletes aren’t leaving makes me feel more connected to them…and therefore I cry more during the behind the scenes footage with the dramatic music. And then I feel more connected and then I cry more and then…

I’m telling you, the moment the Olympics would ever turn into a free-agent athlete situation, is the moment it will crumble.

Believe it or not as humans, we love boundaries, we love limits.

The Fourth of July Hippie

There’s a newspaper here in Nashville called the Contributor. It’s a paper that homeless people sell as a way to make money without having to beg. Really cool idea and a great organization.

I see homeless people selling that paper every day in Nashville as I’m driving around taking care of my needs for the day. I don’t usually buy the paper. Why? Cause I think if you buy the paper you should buy it cause your interested in it. Other wise just give the person some money and forget the paper. But I don’t wanna get into that whole debate right now.

So most of the people selling the paper just kinda stand there holding it, or walk up and down the side of an intersection. Most of the time there’s some waves and smiles.

But yesterday I was driving in a part of town that I’m not usually in and I saw a homeless woman totally WORKING IT. She wanted to sell. She was not content letting her housing situation do the selling. She was dressed up like a 4th of July hippy. She was excited. Top hat. Long silver wig, some scarves, crazy glasses…and she walked with a strut.

There was not a single car that past that she didn’t look them in the eyes and wave. It was totally out of place and totally amazing.

I didn’t buy a paper from that lady either cause, but I should have, I did the wrong thing. She was passionate and she was inspirational to everyone who laid eyes on her.

She might never know that I was effected by her passion.

But passion wasn’t necessarily designed as a vehicle for our affirmation.

The things you do and the way you do it matters. That homeless lady will not be homeless for long because she gets it and is willing to lay it on the line.

I wish I was more like her.

King Size

There’s something special about vending machines. Especially ones that don’t have the clear glass front.

When I was a kid I used to try and trick the machines in all kinds of ways. Fake money, fishing line tied to real money, tape taped to money, hitting the coin return as soon as I put in the coins…anything for free pop (I’m from Minnesota remember).

But I will say, hearing the can of pop tumble down the shoot is just kind of exciting. I don’t know. There’s some type of wonder that I associate with it.

Partly too, is because buying something out of a vending machines means I’m likely at a place where I’m feeling sassy anyway. Like a hotel, an airport, or the lobby of a used car dealership. So not only am I a leg up on most of society, but I’m about to enjoy a sugary snack.

Spoiler: I’m at a hotel, I have multiple pillows, a giant bed, and I have snacks now.

The Unveiling

That’s what I think is absent from a lot of life today. There’s no reveal. Your best shot is to be a magician, but there’s even youtube videos to make that a yawn fest too. The second you think you have a tid bit of new info to bestow upon your friends, much less your community/state/country, everyone always already knows at least a little bit about it. Or all of it.

That’s the thing, we become temporary holding cells of information very quickly. But is there really any point to knowing all the stories of the moment?

And I know you’ve been there too. A friend or your brother or wife starts with an excited tone, telling you a story of something they saw or read or heard at some point during that day. Literally the entire time they’re telling the story, I’m thinking “should I tell them to stop or not”. Cause I’ve already heard about everything they’re saying, but they seem so happy to be telling the story.

Man, I’m a jerk. I can’t even enjoy my comrades enthusiasm cause all I’m thinking about is how to let him know that I already know, without bursting his bubble. And oooh believe me, I want him to know that I know. That is of utmost importance.

I can’t play the fool, or the friend, and just roll with it and ask questions and conversate (there’s a wide debate as to whether or not ‘conversate’ is an actual word….did you know that?). I have to be seen as smart, as in-the-know, as a hip cool dude who’s seen the videos, read the blogs, tweeted the tweets and surfed the high heights of the internet. Daily.

We need to chill and be willing to be amazed and surprised. And don’t be a jerk when you already know the punch line.