"Welcome, You've Got Mail!"

Four months ago.

Four stinkin' months.

That's the last time anyone I follow has shared their thoughts on their blogspot. What has happened to them? A better question, what has happened to me? It's been so long since I've typed anything for fun, and having forgot ton my GOOGLE password, I had to have it emailed to me. Now, this seems like standard fare for people who have short term memory loss, or just plum forget things. To the contrary, I went to open my mail to get my password changed and to my surprise the friendly electronic cousin of Steven Hawkings greets you with the "Welcome, You've Got Mail!" 3,531 new messages. Holy smokes.

Where do they come from?

Why are they here?

Then I had a thought, why not look through this mess of emails and see how things have changed over the last four months. Scrolling through, I found thousands of Facebook notifications regarding accepting friends who were just merely names at the time. I'm now close friends with many of them who I hardly knew a third of a year ago. Invitations to parties, get-togethers and shindigs of the past, where now only the memories loom in my mind. My status was liked by 14 different people from 4 states and 2 countries on August 25. This trip down memory lane just opened a flood of memories of the past, and how much my life has changed. Seeing these thousands of emails made me think about how different things were, and how different things are going to be. Where will I be in four months you ask? Your guess is as good as mine.

A Boy and his Bike

I feel as if inspiration can come from many places, or sometimes you just find it necessary to satisfy that itch that is the “what if” in your life. I have recently found my latest “what if” and decided that I had the means to make it work.

What I wanted was a road bike. Yeah, like those used in the Tour de France, or those ridden by European people in spandex who constantly seem to think they’re cars out on the road. No 16 year old boy would ever want a bike like that when they could have a top of the line mountain bike used to conquer all obstacles in the general area around it. Skinny tires, lightweight chrome-molly frame, curved handlebars and suicide shifters all come with the package that is a road bike.

My father, being the high style man that he is, purchased a brand new Schwinn World Sport Road Bicycle in 1986 for the then pricey sum of $400.00. He got many good years of use out of it, and then parked it in the garage for nearly a decade. Cobwebs and dust built up, tires rotted and dirt accumulated on the once glorious bike, and I decided that I needed to revamp the bike at all costs. I brought it to D & D Bike Shop in Northville, where I asked them to do all they could to fix it. After returning several times throughout the course of the week, I returned to the shop to pick up my bike. It glistened in the sun, the gunmetal grey frame casting shimmers of light off into the distance. The red grip tape matched the Schwinn logo perfectly, and all the running gear was tuned to perfection. There was one thing left to do.

Swinging my leg over the frame, I began to pedal. My legs moved faster and faster as the buildings around me began to turn into a blur. Trees, cars and everything around me lost importance, and it was just me and the bike. Moving forward, and not looking back.

I thought to myself, I don’t have a dollar in my wallet, but I couldn’t be any happier.

Perfection

This blog hasn’t been updated for the past few months, and I am surprised I still can type. I suppose one could make the statement that I was too busy living my life, and not spending any time recording my thoughts. Isn’t that how summer is supposed to be?

For the first time in my 16 years, 2 months, and 25 days of existence, I have felt like my life couldn’t get any better. I know I have had countless good times, which are awesome but the euphoria that encapsulates them wears off within a matter of days. However, my life recently has been on the upswing. All the elements that I could ever want have been handed to me, all within this glorious 77 days of freedom. My reintroduction to hockey is the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle that is my complex teenager life, which I will look back upon and yearn for the days of the past. This is now, and I will ride this wave for as long as I can, because I don’t know how much better life can get.

No More Pencils, No More Books

The last day of school has been idolized in American pop culture ever since the countries' founding. Bells ringing, papers flying and kids screaming all enter our minds as we envision the day in which every student receives a pardon from the governor, a free ride ticket for several months of freedom. Quoting the famous song by Alice Cooper "Schools out for the summer, schools out forever!", a tremendous weight is lifted from the student's shoulders knowing that the toil and burden of pencils, books and dirty looks is done, only to be resumed in September. But that's a lifetime away . . .

Me, Gearns and Trotter decided that we were going to be different. Make the last day of school something that we would be talking about for days, weeks or months. We would be attempting a feat that not many students attempt, and it involves rule bending. But hey, were going to be juniors, so why not take the risk? We would be wearing our Rollerblades to school, and maneuvering through the highly populated Northville High School hallways. Probable, we thought so.

As we arrived at school, my brother being the strict rule follower decided that I was crazy and irresponsible for attempting to bend school rules. I gave him a "who cares" shrug and told him if he didn't approve he could just leave me alone. So he did.

I laced up the good 'ol Missions with Rink Rat wheels (Property of Ryan Trotter) and began my journey from the parking lot to the inside of the school. I found that climbing the stairs on Rollerblades was not as challenging as one would think. Into the Math wing I rolled, gaining speed. I recieved high-fives from various students and in a blur I could hear the "You can't do that!" from teachers. I didn't let that stop me, because I felt invincible.

That feeling didn't last long however. Gearns skated a mere 10 feet before a teacher took him aside and told him that rollerblading wasn't allowed in school. Who would have guessed? I attempted to bail him out by explaining some hodge-podge of roller hockey reasoning to the teacher, but she wouldn't budge on her reasoning. The skates returned to the lockers.

As a kid in a pirate costume, riding a loose-trucked 1970's long board straight from the film Lords of Dogtown rolled by, I could see Trotter in the distance attempting a spin move. Nice. The two of us talked to Megan and Haley and continued our mission throughout the school. RoShambleau (pronounced RoShamblo) was mumbling in his walkie talkie about hooligans and shenanigans. We gotta get out!
So we went our separate ways, carrying our skates. Joyce, the hall monitor, who had already repossed the long board, approached me. Being myself, I decided to maneuver myself out of any trouble by the use of big words, historical references and persuasive skills. This time, however, I failed. My skates ended up in the office with all the other items that didn't comply with Northville's "Tradition of Excellence". Ha.

School ended and I went to collect my skates. On my way out I encountered our roller hockey coach, and he approved of our idea, which was satisfying. But most importantly, I did this for the experience and decided to make this last day of school memorable.

What its all about

Step Right Up!

And Go For It!

This weekend wasn't destined to be something important. There were no special events, no parites, no championship games, nothing. Just a regular 3 day weekend. However, it just didn't work like that.

As the formaldihide smell finally left my nostrils, I left my 4B Bio class with the thoughts of the "Baconater" still sloshing around in my head. I needed to clear my mind. After talking to Ryan on the way out of school, I figured out that he had "bent" the rules and found a way around the strict rules issued by "Ro" Shambleau about sophomores driving. Anyway, I got to duel it out with Haley for riding shotgun. After a good bodycheck and a quick rock-paper-scissors match, I found myself up front. Awesome.



After reviewing some video footage, which we found futile, Ryan had to go do more important things, which can be read on his blog "Trot Spot". Anyway, Kevin and I decided that we head up to the Northville Swim Club. It was opening day there, so we decided that we would take Gearns along in the Lumina. Uppon arrival, we put up some crazy shots on the b-ball court, then decided that we needed to go back to our naural enviornment: the diving pool.


A note to the reader: The three meter board a.k.a. high dive is the highlight for any little kid's visit to the Northville Swim Club. A chance to scream your lungs off while falling from 12 feet up is enough to give anyone a boost of adreniline. Anyway, Kevin, Ryan, Victor and occasionally Timothy have complete rule over the high dive. They work their majic day in and day out off the towering board, doing flips and similar activities. I would watch from the low dive, and decided not to attempt anything crazy from such a high height. I had attempted a one and a half last year and broke my ear drum off the high dive, so that's why I remained slightly scared . . . ok terrified off the high dive.


So there I was, doing my usual dives off the 1 meter low dive, and I decided that today, things would be different. Not just today, but for the rest of the year. After some helpful hints from Kevin, I was ready to go for it. As I approached the line, I asked the small boy in line behind me if he wanted to jump first, but he said no, it's your turn. It was my turn.


I positoned myself on the board, and completed a perfectly excecuted reverse, or at least a very nice one. I then realized that if I believed in myself, I could do whatever I wanted. I know it's cheesy, but it's true. Conquering your fears, thats what the summer's all about.

Fifteen Minutes of Fame

Ukrop 2008

Warhol 1968

In 1968 the artist Andy Warhol, famous for originating his own style of painting said that everyone will get their 15 minutes of fame. Earlier in my life, if this statement was told to me, I would most likely wonder when my fame would arrive. Possibly a picture in the Northville Record, or a candid shot of me in the Thornton Creek yearbook, but that was not the case. My 15 minutes arrived later.

I have been involved in building model cars for a few years now, nothing really serious. However, I had recently posted a video of one of my cars on the popular sight YouTube. Most of the time, YouTube is a webstie for nobody's to turn into somebodys for muttering a phrase such as "I like Turtles!" or "It's Candy Mountian Charlie!" but for me this was not the case. After a few weeks, my car gained recognition among the online enthuisasts. Now this video snowballed into me recieving several e-mails to sell my car for undisclosed ammounts of cash. Wow.

Although the offers were outrageous, I decided to keep my car. One day, as I opened up a magazine, HOT ROD deluxe, I noticed a picture of my car. My very own car which I had built over the past summer sitting proudly on the page! What luck! I couldn't believe that something I had built had gone from a video on YouTube to a picture in a National Publication bought by readers all across the Country.

So I guess looking back, Warhol was right with his 40 year old saying. I got my 15 minutes of fame. Did you?

Take the Risk

The weekend. All of us work towards that common goal. No matter who we are, where we live, or what are upbringing is we work towards this great achievement. Our thoughts revolve around what were going to do on Friday night. For many people, images of going to see an overpriced movie or spending the greater half of the evening in a smoky bowling alley jump to their minds. However, my friends have developed a tradition. Risk.

Risk. A game created by Parker Brothers has been filling teenage boys' heads with thoughts of world domination since 1957. With just a roll of the dice, you can conquer other nations, and advance your armies across the globe. Awesome.

Your probably putting two and two together, and figuring out that my friends and I sometimes decide to test out our tactical skills and fight for global domination. First, you need to meet the players.

Andrew (A.U.-Red Army) The leader who stays true to one nation, and one nation alone. Ukraine. Forget the Seinfeld quote "The Ukraine is weak!" because that is where he sets up camp. No matter what, A.U. will not give up his stronghold.

Jordan (Green army) The player who always suggests, "Lets play risk, it will be fun!" Whatever bribes are needed to get players involved, Jordan will make sure to do everything in his power to make people play risk. He tends to concentrate his pieces on Africa, but his home base is in good 'ole Alaska.

Joey (me-Yellow army) I mostly am the one who gets dragged into the game. Although, A.U. usually makes a treaty and the two of us form an alliance. I always work hard to establish my army in the North America, which will earn me a few more soldiers. We usually end up saying "Lets both take out Jordan," and once he is eliminated, the game goes downhill from there.

Ryan. (Grey army). Ryan is the player who immediately goes for the "last stand" area, or the Indonesia-Australia venue. He makes sure to stock-pile his army with as many soldiers as possible, and hope to roll some good numbers.

Kevin. (White army) Usually a substitute for Ryan, Kevin attempts to take Asia, but is annihilated in the beginning. This is no problem for him though, because there is usually some quality (nope) programming on Cartoon Network's "adult swim".

The game usually starts around 9:00 p.m., with high hopes for the adventure ahead of us. We make sure to take a trip to the BP station to pick up some Monster, Mountain Dew, Pepsi, Coke, or Jordan's usual Red Bull to keep us fueled for the night. Typically, a few more trips are made in Jordan's Subaru with the music bumpin' into the night. We can already feel the joy of capturing Urkusturk or Katchamaka. Silly slogans like "My name is Ural" will be said when the territory of Ural is captured. This is gonna be great!

10:00 p.m. Each player has played their first move, establishing their armies. Jordan breaks the seal on his Red Bull. Andrew mixes some concoction of Mountain Dew Code Red, with a little bit of NOS. Kevin, cracks open a Monster BFC. I break out a tumbler, half filled with ice, and pour a bit of Mt. Dew original in it. It's gonna be a long night.

11:00 p.m. With a bit of dice rolling, some territories are gained, some are lost. Andrew mutters his usual phrase "Resistance is futile!" as he takes over yet another continent on his world Blitzkrieg. There is auguring over whether the dice got enough rotation, and if the board was "modified" while someone was in the bathroom. The game is starting to heat up.

12:00-Midnight Cans begin to pile up as the night wears on. The game has just hit the two hour mark, with Kevin hardly holding in there. With a snap of the wrist, A.U. rolls the Three Offensive Red Dice to defeat the last ranks of Kevin's army. First player to be eliminated. Kevin turns on the T.V.

1:00 a.m. With the faint sound of the cast of "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" in the background, the game wears on. Ryan has began his troop assemblies in Indonesia. Jordan decides that he needs to take Ryan out at all costs. However, he only has two "Risk Cards" so he needs to wait another turn to gain 36 additional troops. That won't happen anytime soon.

2:00 a.m. Jordan collected his cards, and is ready to take down Ryan's Military base. With a few well placed rolls, Jordan emerges victorious, but with many casualties. However, he will not let that stop him. The game is beginning to loose speed.

3:00 a.m. Andrew, expanding from his base in Europe, decides that I need to be taken out. Our treaty from earlier in the game has failed. My courageous Yellow army fights to the death, but with nothing to show. I felt like Matthew Broderick at the end of the movie Glory, as I was destroyed by the opposing army. It's about time for me to go to sleep.

4:00-6:00 a.m. As I fade in and out of a deep sleep, I can hear Jordan and A.U. bickering at each other about cheating, mis-rolls, re-rolls, and Rick-rolls. Once, there was an accusation for cursing the dice. In the end, Andrew and his Red Army always emerge victorious. His perfect record continues.

So this time the game was completed in the suggested time frame of 1-8 hours. I have no idea who thought of those numbers, but whoever they are, they have clearly never played the game before.

So remember, when you're caught up in a deep sleep on Friday night, feel good knowing that the leaders of tomorrow are battling for World Domination.

Take the Risk. Join us if you dare.