33 Things I Know

Tomorrow I turn 33.

At this point in my life I don’t know everything there is to know- I only know some things. Things you know are absolute- they are facts as far as you are concerned. They are bases of discussion, conversation starters, conversation enders, and possibly points of contention. But ultimately they are simply enough, just the things you know.

Here are 33 things I know as of today, the day before I turn 33.

1. I know you can’t beat flip flops when it comes to foot wear.

2. I know the Red Sox will always be the team I care about the most, although this has been less rigid in the past couple years- with the Patriots & Celtics sneaking in there.

3. I know the difference between a $15 haircut and a $25 haircut.

4. I know the Wire is my favorite television show of all time. Arrested Development is second and the Office (prior to season 7) is third. Notable mentions are Lost, Madmen, Seinfeld and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. In the next couple years I could see Boardwalk Empire and/or Game of Thrones cracking that list.

5. I know the best hat I ever owned was a green fitted Michigan State hat.

6. I know that after a while, you can get sick of drinking only water.

7. I know that the only state not on an ocean I could live in is Colorado.

8. I know the best job I ever had was being a deckhand at Casco Bay Lines.

9. I know I will always look fondly upon Isuzu Troopers.

10. I know I prefer black ink to blue ink, but I’m not entirely sure why.

11. I know that I really came to appreciate the city of Philadelphia.

12. I know my favorite baseball player of all time is Ryne Sandberg.

13. I know that I never thought I’d have a nickname with more staying power than Burns.

14. I know Life cereal will always be the best cereal there is and if you mix it with Honey Nut Cheerios, it’s a work of art.

15. I know beer tastes best in a cold bottle.

16. I know that sporting a handlebar moustache makes me look angry and troubled, regardless of what my mouth is doing.

17. I know the five best concerts I’ve been to are (in no particular order):
- Pearl Jam at the Spectrum in Philly
- My Morning Jacket at the Mann Center in Philly
- Phish’s midnight set on 1/1/00 at Big Cypress Indian Reservation in Florida
- U2 at the old Foxboro Stadium in Mansfield, Mass
- From Good Homes at the Recher Theater in Towson, Maryland

18. I know that life got easier when I stopped caring what everyone else thought.

19. I know that mix tapes are better than mix CD’s.

20. I know I wish I was five inches taller.

21. I know 75 to 83 degrees and sunny is where it’s at.

22. I know playing music for people is one of the best feelings there is.

23. I know Goucher College might not be for everybody, but it was for me and I have no regrets.

24. I know I actually do have one regret about Goucher and it’s that I wish I had done a semester abroad. I really wouldn’t have missed as much as I thought I would.

25. I know that at weddings I drink Gin & Tonics.

26. I know my favorite place I’ve been to in California is San Diego.

27. I know that someday I want to go to Europe and do the following: fly to London, travel to Ireland and then over to Scotland, then on to Norway & Sweden, followed by taking a boat to Poland, the Czech Republic, Germany, Holland, France, Portugal, Spain and finally taking another boat to Italy. If Greece was included, that’d be dope. But if not, it’s not a deal breaker.

28. I know that I can’t wait to have a dog.

29. I know that for me, coffee just does a job. Taste is secondary.

30. I know Portland, Maine is the greatest place in the world July through October.

31. I know that my next vehicle will be a SUV or a truck. Cars aren’t for me.

32. I know patience isn’t my strong point, but everyday I’m working on it.

33. I know I’m a lucky dude because I met Kim and I had to be lucky for that to happen.

That’s what I know.

Go Pats.

Banana Bread Dreams & Egg Nog w/ Rum Wishes: Looking back at Christmas Memories

Christmas memories are like episodes of Madmen- face it, they’re all awesome, just in their own unique ways.

There was one lovely Christmas in Maine when I was working at Bay Lines and pulled the Downbay PM shift, which in the days leading up to Christmas looked like one of the more desire able shifts, given its 13:45 report time. It left you plenty of time to do presents and then lunch before throwing on the steel toes and heading out. Working on Christmas sucks, no matter how you slice it- but like with most things in life that are a bummer, try your best to make it suck the least and you should be okay.

As I drove into work, the snow started.

Commercial Street, which would have been quiet that day anyway and for the most part is from October until May, had reached a Ghost Town level of quiet. There was no one out and we were able to walk in the middle of the street with drifts and snow forming around us as we trudged to Maggie’s for a cup of coffee. The snow wasn’t letting up and it likely wouldn’t until the night was over. It was going to get worse before it was going to get better and around 14:15 we shoved off into sideways snow and a frost tipped wind ripping across the bow. The windows of the pilothouse danced between fogging up and icing over. We couldn’t see shit.

On the way home, I saw a car in the middle of a snow bank in between the two sides of Franklin Street. It was a minivan- white with wood paneling. I would have stopped but if I had the Super Trooper would likely have ended up right next to it.

When we were younger, Erin would have me do reconnaissance work starting around 5am Christmas morning. It was a tricky mission. If you looked down the stairs you could usually tell if the stockings were full and if the stockings were full, it only meant one thing…we’re good to go. Unfortunately every time I tried to do this I was interrupted by Dad.

“Go back to bed, Ryan.”

I’d go back to bed and pick up the phone. Erin was on the other line and I’d quickly tell about the stockings before the beeping started and the operator came on, telling us to please try our call again.

Gram was funny at Christmas because she was never shy about saying what she felt and as a result, had funny reactions when opening presents. She would usually forget who the present was from while opening it and would have to ask after it was opened. We’d tell her not once, not twice, but usually three times on account of her poor hearing. It would get to a point where no one else in the family could open presents while she was because she would get distracted and if that happened, we’d all be done and there’d be nothing under the tree but seven presents for Gram and three for Mom, who spent the majority of the morning tending after Gram.

I remember going to the Village after church on Christmas Eve. The Village was a large Italian restaurant that used to be in Portland. It had a distinct smell to it- not a bad smell or a good smell. It just had a definitive aroma.

Christmas taught me how to rock the shit out of gift certificates. That might have ended up being good real world training.

Getting blocks of blank cassette tapes was always a fan favorite. It was the gift that kept on giving and I’m not going to brag, but I certainly knew my way around a good mix tape.

The funny thing about Christmas now is that I totally want the kind of gifts that are frequently used as jokes pertaining towards typical dude presents. Come Christmas morning, if I have a couple new white t-shirts, some new socks and a new collared shirt or two- I’m stoked. I can’t really think of anything else I want besides maybe AES to wipe out my student loans or to get the Super Trooper back. I’m really just looking forward to the downtime that comes with Christmas. Sleeping in is a present I’m looking forward to this year.

That and Watch the Throne.

Part 5: I don't miss walking on the cobblestones...

Life is weird.

Life is weird in the way, that saying or even writing life is weird is weird.

This is one thing I've learned about life. I've learned that the best things in life steamroll. They don't happen, are pre-destined to happen, or just kind of f'n work the f out. No. The best things in life steamroll. They steamroll in the way that one thing becomes another thing and then another thing and then so on and so on. It's when things just click, when things just work out.

Tonight, I went out.

Going out is a rarity when I'm in Portland now. But Goddamnit- I'm kinda sorta on vacation and on the drive up- a drive that took approximately 97 songs and the entire Roots' album, Rising Down and the first three songs of My Morning Jacket's Evil Urges- I decided that I was going to go out and make the most of it. So I sent out text messages and I made a few phone calls. I made the occasional Myspace post and sent out a few Facebook messages.

I really communicated the shit out the situation in really, not that much time at all.

But tonight...holy shit, it looked like there was a firefly in the kitchen...I went out to dinner with Burly and it was fun, she was fun, she was awesome. She busted through a door that was secured with masking tape because her old soccer coach walked by and she wanted to say hello. Typing on this keyboard is like shooting an arrow with a bow. I even asked her if she wanted to go to Erin's wedding and I meant it.

After she left, I went back to the bar and met up with Amanda Panda Jellybean and upon securing a kickass picnic table, saw Obie walk down the cobblestones.

Obie! Hi yo!

That son of a bitch is gettin' married!

Our ten year high school reunion is only a few months away!

Didn't you hear about it on Facebook? I asked Keller.

No.

They have their own Facebook page.

But what if I don't have a Facebook page? Keller asked.

I guess that's where I come in.

Ah to hell with it, we're getting older. We're not old, but yes, we are getting older. We are getting mortgages and jobs at desks and wedding rings and testicular cancer and comments about our asses and receding hairlines and excessive facial hair and a fondness for good red wine and a desire to take cooking classes.

We are getting to be almost thirty.

We are going to get a pitcher.

Another weather advisory came across the Sox game tonight- threatening of thunder storms- but unlike last night, there weren't any. It was a nice night, an almost perfect Portland summer night. A good ol' Portland summer night with Gritty's and girls in high heals trottin' cross the cobble stones and rock stars and disc jockeys and dogs and some of the cutest gals in the world. Really damn close to one of those nights where moving home might not be a bad idea.

Close.

But not quite close enough.

Sox lose a heartbreaker, get swept by the Rays.