About Me

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Georgia.. born and raised.. finding myself caught up in the Midwest

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Golf



If there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I keep a camera in my golf bag at all times for the day I hit my first hole-in-one. I love to golf. I love everything about it… waking up early for a tee time before the greens are cut and dry… rushing home from work (sticks and shoes in the trunk), because you know you’ll get at least 15 holes in before you can’t see the ball anymore… owning a bag that has an insulated pocket for beers… speculating with your best friends as to whether or not the cart girl will give you her number… learning much about the game from my uncle... and having the opportunity to share my passion years later with my nephews. Most of all, I love to get out there on the course and just compete – with you, with the strangers I’ve been paired with, and with myself.

Growing up in Augusta, Georgia, it was only natural to enjoy being around the game. My house was just a few miles south of the most beautiful piece of land I’ve ever seen – the Augusta National… home of The Masters. The first big road I learned to drive on is even called Bobby Jones Expressway. Playing was always a pretty rare treat, though, as golf is a pretty expensive sport to enjoy. I pieced my first “set” of clubs together by paying for them $5 at a time from flea markets my dad would drive me to. My friends gave me hell, because my first three wood was made of… well, wood (and I’m proud to say I carry that club in my bag to this day). I purchased my first driver from a local driving range. My friends and brothers also gave me hell about this. Ahhhh, the Nitro Whacka Whacka. Yes, indeed. Well, they gave me hell up until the point they begged to take a few swings with that bad boy. I stole my first putter out of my brother’s bag, and I’m pretty sure I just never gave it back (sorry, Brian). Returning the favor, my brother now plays with my first “real” set of irons, a set I played with until my uncle, Dick, generously gave me his set of Pings. And I am becoming an absolute witch with these here Pings.




Early this past summer… finally with some spare change in my pocket and a severe hip flexor injury sidelining me from my running addiction… my roommate and I decided to play 18. I enjoyed it so much I went and played the next day. Soon thereafter, I was out on the golf course three to four times per week. I ended up coming to the earth shattering conclusion that I enjoy playing even more when my game improves – imagine that. I purchased and began using a driver for the first time in six years, and I stopped using mulligans in order to calculate my handicap index. It got to the point that when trying to decide whether to move to Tampa, Florida or Kansas City, Missouri, my dad actually threw in the fact that my golfing season would be much shorter in Missouri as part of my decision criteria. I laughed it off, but I would soon realize how much it really did matter to me once I moved.

Part of the reason I enjoy walking up to the first tee box so much is due to the fact I can find a round to be beneficial to my day regardless of the type of day, week, month, or year I’m having. I love to golf when I’m happy, I love to golf when I feel frustrated, and I love to golf when something is weighing on my heart. As I mentioned, the set of irons I use to this day are the Ping Zings my uncle gave me after a great round together near Lake Martin in Alabama. Uncle Dick comes to visit every year he can, provided his visit coincides with Masters week and the chance to attend a practice round or tournament day. Although, he did attend my graduation as well! Every once in a while, including this past year, we have the opportunity to make it out there together. He has a sense of awe for the game and its legends. The Golden Bear, Arnie’s umbrella and his army… I associate most of them with him. He’s a true Southern gentleman, and this is a gentleman’s game. Watching the subtle joy on his face when Jack, Arnie, and Gary Player walked down the fairway toward the green where we were stationed last year was an awesome experience. I’m convinced that when God calls Uncle Dick home, he’ll be doing nothing more than teeing off at the best links Heaven has to offer – probably Augusta, National.




February was a tough month this year… again. Ridiculous and frustrating events in Kansas City had me down already when I received a phone call from my mom in the middle of the month. My uncle has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer that was already tearing down most of his other vital organs. His prognosis is understandably frightening, and the whole situation became a focal point in my prayer life. I really wish God would choose more subtle ways of putting personal, trivial issues in perspective. Following the next few weeks, though, it became time to choose joy. And when the snow in KC finally melted away just enough to clear the greens and fairways, I set out to enjoy one of my absolute favorite activities. Golf, a simple thing in life, is a game I enjoy so much partly due to the influence my uncle has had on my life. I figured it would be an activity to help derail my mind from the negative and focus on the joy. Let me tell you something. With a heart focused on him, it became the best round of my entire life…

Friday, March 19, 2010

The Little Things

Do you aspire to great things? Start with the little ones. Focus on the little ones. For those who have known me for some time, you probably realize I’m very much “it’s the simple kind of things” guy. In fact, if you have not given me a hard time for being overly giddy or excited over seemingly frivolous actions, words, or experiences, you probably do not know me well enough. I want to laugh. I want rid my day to day life of unnecessary and self-created stress and drama. I refuse to let unfortunate circumstances keep me down for long (most of the time). As Emily would put it, I want to choose joy. I want you to choose joy as well. I want you to have THE best day EVER. Now, this is not to say there are not plenty of occasions that drag me down, disappoint me, or cause a certain degree of pain. There’s always a song, conversation with a friend, dog, mile long running route, golf course, beer, cookout, or piano to help deal with stress, though. Those times I do find myself upset or frustrated? You better believe I have an impeccable ability to turn it into motivation… to focus…to drive… to run an angry mile… to take it hard to the rim… to shoot a 74. By the grace of God, I am very resilient. I could not be more thankful that the seemingly little things in life cause this resiliency.

During my junior year at UGA, I was taking the first series of classes in the Institute for Leadership Advancement’s LEAD program, when Dr. Clawson gave us the semester’s task of putting together our Personal Development & Leadership Plan (PDLP for short). For the 60 of us in the program, this document was a source of many long nights and countless hours spent compiling 32 pages worth of reflection and information on… well, us. Each of us took time to interview four individuals who knew our strengths and our weaknesses well, and we asked them to share a few of these… finally asking them the simple question, “Why should anyone be led by me?” Sometimes, in order to best see yourself, you must look to others who know you well. I chose my friend and roommate (LJ), my first friend at UGA (Sara), my ex girlfriend (twice over)…, and my father. My dad attributed one of my weaknesses to being too task oriented and failing to see the big picture at times. It’s safe to say I took those words to heart. It’s safe to say I still do. I point to that conversation when looking for reasons to explain a child-like (or maybe just childish to some) love for the little things… the simple things… the important things.

Honestly, I have no idea how others make it through the day – much less the week – without a true appreciation for the little things. Tough day at work? Turn on a hot jam during the ride home. Most of the time, it really is that simple for me. When I graduated from UGA, my sister warned me about tough days… “I am just a little sad that you now have to leave all that behind and begin your life in the real world. You'll find that people out here are not as quick to pat you on the back for a job well done, nor are they as optimistic about the world as you are. Out here you will certainly face more temptations than the worst night in the frat house.” Absolutely. Just choose joy instead. Great day at work? Buy your favorite beer, pour it into your favorite glass, and send your brother a message… laughing about how great you have it. Yes, it’s tough out here at times. I’m just glad I have a family, friends, and my faith to help me realize there are much more important things to focus on – the little things.

There are so many people who made and continue to make a deep and sincere investment in my life. Whether it was a friend, a mentor, a professor, or a parent constantly calling from home… I have no doubt each and every one of us can point to an occasion when someone enhanced our development and prepared us for the road ahead. And the results of that investment are made evident every morning I climb out of bed. Today, I choose to continue making the absolute best of it.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Four Months In

More than four months in – wow. Is it really so difficult for me to believe I have been living out here for more than three months now? Nah. To tell you the truth, though, Kansas City has not always felt like home yet. Well, kind of. But in the short amount of time I’ve been out of the South, several amazing things occurred. I Rick Rolled Kansas City on Halloween (even if nobody here has ever heard of Rick Astley… Sad, I know), survived my first major holiday without any family members (rocked out grilling scallops wrapped in prosciutto skewered with rosemary sprigs at the Pauley’s, though), wrote my first crop of monster cases at work (after the frustrating yet laughable events of a little more than a year ago, I continue to serve notice that I have gumption), attended my first few big events in the area (saw Wicked during its run downtown.. sat next to a grandma and a mom with her high school daughter.. yeah, about that… also experienced my first Kansas home basketball game), and I hosted my first visitor to KC (in winter, no less). I found a new running route to enjoy (even if Cam’s dog, Maggie, is not here to trot alongside of me) and a new brewery to love. I’ve even made it through all of the winter months without ever turning the heat on in my apartment, resulting in power bills costing less than $30. Perhaps the most exciting thing that happened, though, came on an early morning drive down to Rolla, Missouri. Be honest, how many people would kill for the chance to hear Lil’ Troy’s, “Wanna be a Baller,” play on the radio while driving in your own Chevy Impala?? Well, the recipient of “The Hartford’s Secret Gangsta” office award was pretty pumped. I did take a three week hiatus from KC over the Christmas holiday (more on that vacation later), but I’ve had good experience overall so far.

Being away from family for extended periods of time is never ideal for either party involved. I’m not sure if my mom realizes I have no immediate plans to return to Georgia at any time in the near future. I do expect the Masters and Easter to be an annual excuse to get back to the South, but I will be joining my dad and two brothers in Indianapolis for the Final Four this year instead. Yes, I am extremely excited about this trip, as the Final Four is an event high on my sports bucket list… a list I did not expect to fall as quickly as it has been this year. Lucking my way into tickets for the BCS Championship, Final Four, and College World Series this year will help take big chunks off of that list, though. I’ll be away from friends and the other members of my family for a while. But, as Gchat, cell phones, and facebook constantly remind me, they are all much closer than the actual distance would have me believe. My folks demand constant updates on life and the huge business opportunities I’m pursuing. My sister gives me updates on her return to teaching and how my niece and nephews are doing (she also has a blog at www.raisingangels.blogspot.com). Aaron texts about Alabama football, and Brian BBMs me about Bama and Georgia sports with up to the minute opinions of beer and rock concerts as well (our last conversation went something like this… B, “Day of Rock Show > Morning after Rock Show”). I’m thankful for how well they keep me grounded. I’m thankful that they’re still there to celebrate my successes and let me share in theirs. I’m thankful, because I don’t like thinking about the man I would or wouldn’t be without their influence in my life. I have zero regrets about embarking on this new adventure in my life, but it’s not so wrong to miss the people who helped in your formation. As I continue to move through Lent, there’s one thing a pair of brothers helps remind me of. Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing… like the love that let us share our name.