Eighteen year old kids seldom make wise choices – at least I didn’t. The shenanigans I took part in gave my parents the unique opportunity to meet with each principal I ever had at every school I attended. You see, my friends and I were good kids but we loved to have fun, which usually meant trouble.
My friends describe my father as being like Mr. Rodgers – soft spoken, soothing voice, similar fashion sense, and never angry. The similarities are pretty much dead on. For fun, I would do things just to keep him on his toes…
One night I decided that it would be a great idea to get my name tattooed on the inside of my lip – which was kind of perfect timing, because my friends and I were already on our way to the tattoo parlor.
We had convinced our friend to get a tattoo of a flagpole on his butt, with the number 19 on it (the 19th hole) – all we had to do was pay for it. I would show a picture, but I’m guessing nobody really wants to see a tattoo coming out of the inner crevasse of my friends butt cheeks.
Honesty is a trait that people appreciate. The simple act forms a trust and loyalty to transparent people and businesses. It makes sense – no one wants to be taken advantage of, but it happens all too often.
I can’t tell you how many times people have tried to hustle me for cash, with some elaborate story. It happens in almost every city, but isn’t very effective. On the rare occasion when someone is transparent, they should be rewarded…
Yesterday I encountered this man by Pike Place Market, gave him a dollar, shook his hand and thanked him for his honesty.
It may come to a surprise to all of you, but unfortunately I’m not the world’s best driver. I know, it’s really hard to believe – but you’re Kourteous, how can you be a bad driver? Well, truth be told, I’ve totaled 3 vehicles so far (not including minor accidents) and I’m guessing there will be several more down the road. (Haha, get it? Down the road…it’s funny because I’m talking about cars…not funny? Okay, I’ll work on my humor later.)
Despite my horrible driving record, being courteous to other drivers and pedestrians has always been something that I take pride in – I don’t honk, tailgate, or cut people off, but I do patiently wait for pedestrians to cross, and let other drivers merge in front of me when nobody else will…
What do you want to be when you grow up? It’s a question that never seems to go away.
Twenty years ago, I was hell bent on becoming a ninja. The idea of being somewhat invisible by taking cover in the shadows of nightfall, and quietly completing missions totally captivated my imagination.
My neighbor, at the time, was an elderly gentleman. He enjoyed fishing and used live frogs as bate, which he kept in a cage behind his shed. This really bothered me. It was pretty obvious when he was getting ready for a trip, because frogs quickly multiplied in the cage a few days before he planned on leaving. It became my mission, as a ninja, to save all of the frogs that he captured. As the sun went down, I would change into my ninja outfit and sneak over to the cage to free the frogs. It was a success for a while, but he eventually decided to keep the cage in his garage. That was a sad day in ninja history – my short lived career was over.
Friends come in all kinds of personalities. It’s what makes friend groups interesting, and fun to be a part of. Despite the shortcomings people tend to have, there is one thing that holds friend groups together – love. Yup, that’s right! (Come on, it’s Valentine’s Day) By accepting others for who they are, we become better people.
In moments of weakness, there is nothing better than having a good friend by your side for encouragement.
For some reason or another, people enjoy being pet owners. I certainly do. While most prefer cats and dogs, some folks would rather have snakes, rats, alligators, or spiders. To each his own I guess. Fortunately, there are city ordinances to limit the number of pets allowed in each household. Personally, I think it’s an attempt to prevent the crazy cat ladies out there from hoarding too many kittens…
Yup, that's a cat...
In my younger years, I had absolutely no patience for board games (other than checkers) or Nintendo. Playing in the great outdoors was the only thing I ever wanted to do – creating a rift in my relationship with my brother, as he was the complete opposite. Though my love for the outdoors hasn’t changed, my patience and desire for learning new things has evolved over the years.
In college, I taught myself how to play Backgammon. Apparently the strategy is very similar to Poker (weird right?!?). This was news to me when my friend Jon asked me to teach him how to play, in hopes that it would make him a better Poker player. It was confusing (because I don’t play poker), but exciting none the less – I FINALLY HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO PLAY ANOTHER HUMAN!!!
The responsibility of raising kids can be overwhelming to say the least. Unfortunately they don’t come with instruction manuals, often making it feel like the blind are leading the blind – just hoping they turn out alright. We want to provide them with opportunities that we never had, and do our best to achieve those things for them…In any case; it’s not easy raising kids.
Growing up, the furniture my parents owned looked like something you would find in the discard pile at the Goodwill (or a college frat house). I received the hand-me-downs from my older brother (it was rare to get a pair without patches on the knees), as well as his old toys. All of this led me to ask “Dad, why can’t we have nice things?” He smiled, crouched down to my level, and explained that “as a boy, it was in my nature to be destructive.”
Bicycle adventures have always been one of my favorite pastimes. Gone are the days of my youth when I would hop on my bike to follow my older brother to his friend’s house – he would make a game out of it, weaving through uncharted neighborhoods in an attempt to lose me. It usually ended with a stream of tears rolling down my chubby cheeks, trying to find my way back home. Fortunately, I keep better company these days…
This weekend was a perfect time to discover new places in our new beloved city. With the sun shining bright, we mounted our bikes (God only knows how much I really want a tandem bicycle) and started the journey to wherever…
Years ago I had a summer job at a prestressed concrete factory. We built bridges, and exterior building panels on a daily basis. It was a stressful job because of the tight deadlines, and the hard labor that came with the territory. The employees there could have come straight out of the Wild West – the serious, tough, tobacco loving, don’t take no shit from no body type that you never want to cross. Verbal abuse was rampant, so if you weren’t a fast learner (fortunately I am) they made your life a living hell. Needless to say, the turnaround for summer workers ran fairly high.
Prestressed concrete bed