WELCOME TO MY LIFE

I don't know how I ever lived without you.

WHATEVER IT IS

When I get bored at work (See: When it rains or is May-August) I generally end up screwing around on my phone. Sometimes it's reading articles, other times playing games, and others blasting away texts and BBMs. Lately, I keep coming back to a conversation I had with a certain someone some random summer day, with the sticking point being: "Let it play out."

Those that know me are more than aware that I am laid back (Unless I'm in a competitive situation. Then forget about it). Sometimes overly so. Like, to a fault. People think I'm lazy. I walk slow, people watch, eat long meals, and love a couch. Love baseball. Love golf. I sit back and relax, because life is no fun stressed all the time.

Despite that, I have a hard time with patience. That doesn't seem to make sense, but I promise it's true. It's just the way I am. When there's something I want, I have a hard time waiting for it. I do whatever I can that I think will help me get it and keep it. I screw a lot of things up that way, but it is what it is.

I think that's where letting it play out comes in. Maybe. But things get realllly interesting the times I try to balance the laid back with the impatience. When I really want something, but want it to come to me. I am used to just letting things come to me, or just going after the things I want. I guess trying to find a balance between the two is my "letting it play out." I am not sure this is right. But I feel like being laid back is not exactly letting things play out so much as it watching them play out. For me, letting things play out means there are still moves to be made (to borrow a line from Kyle), and you can't just sit back and wait. You have to make an effort, build something up, all for the chance that maybe it works.

Anyways, I've decided I suck at it. Whatever it is. I'm pretty certain I know what I want, and it would be real great if it just happened. No moves to be made. No hesitation or reservation. Just going for it.

EVERYTHING TO LOSE

It might seem ridiculous saying the Suns have taught me a thing or two about life, but this is how I have grown up.

"It just feels right to live in a world where the Phoenix Suns are competitive again. They may be lacking in many respects, but to see Steve Nash lead this squad on break after break is a facet of the modern NBA that simply cannot be replaced. The unique combination of pure speed, versatility, and team coordination just can’t be rivaled, and though this year’s team may shine in a different hue than the models featuring Shawn Marion, Boris Diaw, or Joe Johnson, I don’t think it makes them any less resonant.

Mike D’Antoni may not have been a prophet, but he was certainly a philosopher. The trademark of D’Antoni’s Suns was always their mortality, and I think that legacy has lived on through this current team. The Seven Seconds or Less squads wear (or wore) their vulnerabilities on their sleeve, but their mortality comes as much from leading a particularly vulnerable existence as it does from finding exuberance in it. These teams, in all of their fast-breaking splendor and glory, know how to live. They know how to play a bit, too, but the defining legacy of the Mike D’Antoni era in Phoenix (which lives on today) should be the Suns’ artful display of basketball as life.

Maybe the hustle and the bustle of the Suns doesn’t quite fit your living style, but who could possibly claim that the exaggerated in-game highs and lows of the Suns — the 20-point lead built and swallowed by a 5-25 run, the 3-point barrages followed by defensive letdowns — aren’t basketball’s most fitting equivalent of life on the outside?

It’s not about the 9-5 grind, and it’s not necessarily about winning all the time; the Suns’ existence is predicated on winning more than you lose, embracing who you are, playing by your own rules, learning to live through the ups and downs, and remembering that the line between work and play doesn’t have to be crystal clear. They work hard, they score points, and they play basketball like it’s a game worth playing.

They may not have the talent of the Lakers or the convention of the Spurs, but this is a team of hard workers and ball players with a plan. I don’t know if that plan means anything in the Western Conference playoff picture this season, and in the grand scheme of things I’m not sure it matters all that much. If there were ever a solid case to be made against the championship being the end-all of athletic conquests, it would have to be the Suns, who may have discovered along the way to 60-win seasons and the Conference Finals that the journey is perhaps the worthier part.

I’m not presumptuous enough to claim to know everything about life, but a very wise, script-assisted high schooler once gave me some sage advice: Life moves pretty fast, and if you don’t stop to look around once in awhile, you could miss it. It’s easy to have your perception of the Suns skewed by the whiz-bang-boom of their transition offense, but taking in the entire scene is crucial to our understanding of the Suns in a historical context. There are plenty of teams in the league that I enjoy watching, but few, if any, so perfectly encapsulate what is it to do something to its fullest and to enjoy it so wholly and completely. Watch this year’s team and you’ll see it. Breeze through the pages of Jack McCallum’s book and you feel it. And then think about the Suns, consider all that they’ve been through and all that they’ve done for the game of basketball, and you’ll just know it. While some may remark that the Suns play as if they have nothing to lose, I think their style speaks to the contrary. The Suns play basketball like they have everything to lose. If not, then they themselves might slow down for a minute to pick at old wounds or over-analyze what they see in the mirror. But they don’t, and each night on the schedule is another exercise in celebrating everything that is theirs to lose. If basketball is life and life is basketball, then the run-and-gun Phoenix Suns have been the game’s magnum opus: a team that plays in a way that begs you to watch, but more importantly plays in a way that begs you to listen."

WHERE RUBBLE LIES, WE'LL BUILD

Take these papers and tell me I'm loved
Keep me from writing one more sad song

Here's the good news: Where rubble lies, we'll build
In paper valleys, on paper mountains
This fragile house is for me to live in

I built these walls, I wrote every word
And each passing sentence brings them much closer to falling on me
The weight brings them down with gravity

Help me, honey, to mend what I've made
Fix me, quickly, before I bend and break
I've got troubles building on me
And one day if I don't escape
This refuge I built will take me away

I built these walls, I wrote every word
And each passing sentence brings them much closer to falling on me
The weight brings them down with gravity

THAT IS WHAT IT'S ABOUT

As mentioned previously, it seems the majority of my friends have determined this month to be the beginning of wedding season. And as such, this past weekend was spent with 14 of us in Vegas for Michael's bachelor party. Now, for those that know our group of friends, they know that we don't really have any interest in strippers and the like at all, so we didn't have your typical "bachelor weekend in Vegas." We did, however, have a weekend that wouldn't surprise anyone that knows us in the least. Long-story-short, it was madness. And SO MUCH FUN. Beyond the inebriated insanity that is Vegas, it was the first time in quite awhile that we had all of us (save Kohl) together again. So, we celebrated as such.

But that's not really the point of this. Not here to tell crazy stories, and it has nothing to do with the "what happens in Vegas..." mantra. That's nonsense and everyone knows it. No matter how much you want to believe it. The only time that holds true is when you are literally too trashed to remember. So I guess you can go with that.

Anyways, the point of this is the fellowship factor that we all had back in our lives for 72 or so hours. That sounds almost trivial, using the word fellowship to describe a weekend in Vegas, but I mean it. Yes, we had our fun, and did plenty of dumbass things that had people shaking their heads. But we did it together. Like we used too in the Martin's garage or on the streets of Phoenix every single weekend when we were younger.

What stuck most with me this weekend was Michael's bachelor dinner. We spent it on a patio sitting over the strip, sharing drinks and food and stories from the past, just enjoying each other's company. Towards the end, Michael's dad Dennis had some things to say to both Michael, and the group as a whole, and it ended up being my favorite part of the weekend.

You see, Dennis is basically like another dad to me, and the Martin's another family. About the time I met them, 12 or so years ago, Michael's older brother had just passed away. And somehow, over the years as Michael and I became best friends, I also became his brother. I think I spent the night at his house every single weekend I was in the state of Arizona for about four straight years. No lie. And now he's getting married. It's crazy. I love him, I love Dennis and their family, and they love me like their own. After Dennis' speech he grabbed both Michael and I, and we just hugged for a long time and, if we're being honest, we all teared up. One of those indescribeable moments in life that words do no justice. But what struck me just as much was the way Dennis closed. He had spent the last few minutes mentioning all the things that he has loved over the past bunch of years, and his last was for whatever reason just so simply profound to me -

"...and I've always loved cigars. And the reason I love them so much is that they force us to sit down and just be with one another."

And for us, that is what it's all about. What it always comes back to. Michael is the one getting married, but in a way, even this we're doing together. Always together.

HELLO, OCTOBER

As you know, unless you live in a cave, October is here. And that means fall is too. It's my favorite time of the year for a variety of reasons, and this year is no different. Well, it kind of is, being that apparently the cool thing to do this fall is get married. Not me though. Maybe I'm just not a cool kid. Whatever. Anyways, it doesn't make fall any less fantastic. Amazing weather, birthdays and Thanksgiving (and weddings), football, prime time golf season, playoff baseball, basketball coming back, and only a few more weeks until my rib is supposedly undislocated (located? relocated? I need help here). I love it. It was 60 degrees when I woke up this morning. Huh?

But as much as I love fall, I am kind of weary regarding this one. Stoked for sure, but unsure as well. Like in Missed the Boat: "certainly uncertain, at least I'm pretty sure I am." For me, I get the feeling that this is going to be a big fall (the season, not a plunge). I think it could be a turning point. Yeah, I graduated a few months ago, and most consider that the proverbial turning point. But for me, I feel differently. I've been home a few months now, and I don't need to rehash how much I love it. It's been great to slow down and get back into things here. Relationships, routine... just life here. But I think that it has kind of made me stagnant to a point, as well. Kind of like being in a big game or something - Are you just happy to be there, or are you going to make something of it? I think it might be time to start making something of it. Not that I haven't been, so I guess this analogy kind of fails. But time to not just be complacent being here, I guess. The plan was law school next year, but a wrench got thrown in that recently, so I have no idea. Right about that time, though, I was given what may turn out to be one of the bigger opportunities of my life. It's a long long loooooong shot, but it's something, so we will just leave it at that for now. And last night I took the first step down what could be quite the road.

To be honest, though - it scares the hell out of me. What if it doesn't happen? What's the plan then? Or what if it does? That would bring about a thousand new questions and logistical nightmares to my life. And what the hell do I do in the mean time? It could be awhile either way. Do I pursue this or that? Do I put myself on the line in a relationship or situation without knowing even a likely outcome of the bigger picture? Do I even spend time hoping someone might put themselves on the line with me? Why don't you just say something already?

Freaking 18 questions at a time. I have quite the dilemma - wanting to move forward and have things grow, without knowing if or when things are going to change again. It makes the complacency a lot easier. Even for someone prone to taking risks like me.

What's up, October? What's up, fall? What's up, life? Bring it.

BO'S CAFE

Go get it!

Bo's Cafe Site

(On Amazon)

STICK TO YOUR GUNS

For any of you that haven't been to Arizona recently, we have this new thing where we put cameras on pretty much every remotely busy intersection in the entire effing greater-Phoenix area. It's super cool. Except not. At all. I'm pretty sure there's a camera for every driver in the state at this point, and it's all just a cash grab by the various little suburbs of our wonderful Valley. It's horse shit.

Some night in early July, I got 'flashed' for supposedly running a red light at Hayden and Indian School in Scottsdale. I have never gotten a ticket in my life, and fancy myself a good driver, so I was a little pissed off to say the least. When the ticket came a couple weeks later it had all the little details including this fun little number: I had fully passed the cross walk and proceeded into the intersection 0.1 seconds after the light turned red. Going a couple under the speed limit. Point #1 - Don't you think if I thought I was going to be remotely close to running the light, I would have picked up the pace a little bit? Do you really think I would have cruised through going under the speed limit? I will speed in your city the rest of my life, Scottsdale, because that 4.3 seconds of yellow required by law definitely was NOT there. I don't give a damn what your computer says. It wasn't. Watch the video you sent me the link to and honestly tell me I was endangering anyone in a COMPLETELY DESERTED INTERSECTION 0.1 SECONDS AFTER A LIGHT TURNED RED. I must be the most aggressive driver on the planet. Point #2 - Learn how to paint a damn crosswalk. Supposedly, it's supposed to be an extension of the accompanying curb. You know, according to your laws and just like every other place in the world. And if you're passed the curb (crosswalk line) when the light turns red (and most likely a tenth of a second afterward), you didn't run the light. Unless you're in Scottsdale, apparently. You should treat one of your native sons better, dumb ass city. From now on, I will be from Phoenix when people ask. Scottsdale no more.

So, when this ticket shows up it says I can go to court and pay them $224, or I can go to "defensive driving school" to apparently learn how to not run red lights/get the ticket off my record. Only $195. Great. Or I can just not pay it, and take my chances of getting served. I chose the last option for about a week, before deciding my dad would inevitably screw it up and accept a ticket for me in the next four months. So, I went to driving school. Driving school, like red light and speeding cameras, is just another money grab that is absolute NONSENSE. Die, both of you. Here are a sampling of questions from my ever-important defensive driving test that supposedly saves lives by educating people -



Obviously, a key to being a good defensive driver is eating carrots. Who knew?



A telegraph machine? For real?



Hmm, imagine that.

Yes, I paid $195 for this. And the best part, there are about 20 different sections of the test with questions like this. It takes all of 12 seconds to answer the three or four questions at the end of a section - without reading the section, I might add - so you would think it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Except that you have to spend an arbitrary amount of time "studying" their supposedly pertinent tidbits to driving safety. Take 12 seconds to answer common sense questions that my dog could answer... wait 13 minutes and 48 seconds until I can move on to the next section. Take 23 seconds to answer common sense questions that your dog could answer... wait 18 minutes and 37 seconds til the next awesome section. For. Five. Effing. Hours.

Oh, and when you get so stoked you're done with that crap and click on the link to take the "final exam" and be done? You get to print off a receipt for your local UPS Store and go pay them more money to use their computer to take the final exam while being "supervised." By the UPS man. Just in case the whole process wasn't inconvenient enough already.

Do not pay these people a dime. Make them find you and serve you; and if they do, go bitch at someone for this nonsense. Stick to your guns.

BACK TO WHERE WE LASTED

Seven years ago. Yes.

Yesterday was another painfully long day in the sun at the Biltmore, complete with more d-bags than normal. Exhibit A: Give rando, Rollie Fingers look-alike, a ride up to the hotel, store his clubs for him, etc, etc. He hands me a five dollar bill and asks if I can give him change. The following ensues:

Me: Sure, no problem. How much do you need?
Rollie Fingers dick bag: Five ones please.
Me: Ooook..? Here you go...
Rollie Fingers dick bag: Thanks. Have a good one. Walks away.
Hotel bell-hop standing there: Did that just happen? What a POS.

Rollie Fingers was the man.
Rollie Fingers look-alike - not so much.

Needless to say, I was pissed. Had a parting word for Rollie Fingers and drove back down to the country club. But right after I did, I got a text from Caleb asking if I wanted to play lalo later that night after work. Now, the majority of the world doesn't have a clue what lalo is, mainly because it's a game we made up when we were freshmen in high school, but it is the most fun thing you could ever do. Basically, it's a cross between hockey, team handball, and ultimate frisbee, and it is amazingly fun. I hadn't played in years, and just thinking about getting to play again got me through the rest of the work day. So, I was off to Southwestern for lalo right after work. Dinner could wait.

I got there a little after everyone had started playing, so I laced up and jumped in the next game. Now, beyond just a fun game, lalo was something that bonded us growing up. That might sound ridiculous, but it's completely true. It's what we did constantly. Back yards, city parks, tennis courts, gyms, the youth center at church. It didn't matter where, so long as we were together and playing. It was our fellowship. Tonight brought all that back, and then some. The group there last night consisted of some of the guys from our 'group,' but also had former and current youth leaders from our church, a guy I consider one of mentors, Pinky, who I hadn't seen pretty much at all (until this week) since I moved home, some current high schoolers from the youth group, and even a couple of their dads. It was really kind of neat to see this game that we loved for both fun and fellowship amongst our friends, had translated to fun and fellowship for a whole slew of people, from teen to 40-something.

It really took me back. I love my church, and missing the fellowship that comes with it is one of the reasons I really wanted to move home. But working at Biltmore, I don't get to go much because Sunday mornings are big on golf. Last night was pretty neat for me. Beyond the fun, and the crazy good workout (currently, it hurts to move my legs), it was amazing to get back to that fellowship and fun and catching up with everyone's lives. Hanging out with our mentors, and slowly becoming mentors for the younger guys ourselves. It's a great dynamic, and I love it.

And to borrow a phrase -
I'm really glad I'm here.

MISSED THE BOAT

So, it's been awhile. I said from the beginning I didn't know how much I'd use this thing; and now that I have a job I don't have 24 free hours every day. Oooh, employment.

It's been an interesting couple weeks processing some stuff - and baking in the sun every afternoon - but it's been good. Good times with friends. Good times at work. Good times at church. And finally, I feel like I know that this is where I am supposed to be. I had a pretty good idea over the last year or so that I needed to get home - to be completely honest, I was starting to hate who I was turning into, and getting almost scared seeing the roads things could have followed - but at the same time I wasn't really positive that I was supposed to be home. It's so easy to fall into this trap of nonsense in LA and Malibu and OC. And it's even easier to write that stuff off as "being young" or "being in college." At least it was for me. By the end of it, I was just sick of it. This coming from someone who always says that I do me, for better or worse, take it or leave it. And while that brings up stuff I would rather ignore and push aside, I'm going with it. And as usual, there's a song on loop in my head relating to all of this. Call it lame, call it cliche, whatever. It is what it is.




While we're on the subject, could we change the subject now?
I was knocking on your ear's door, but you were always out
Looking towards the future, we were begging for the past
Well we know we had the good things but those never seemed to last
Oh please, just last
Everyone's unhappy, everyone's ashamed
Well we all just got caught looking at somebody else's page
Well nothing ever went quite exactly as we planned
Our ideas held no water, but we used them like a dam

Oh and we carried it all so well
As if we got a new position
Oh and I'll laugh all the way to hell
Saying, "yes this is a fine promotion"
Oh and I'll laugh all the way to hell

Of course everyone goes crazy over such and such and such
We made ourselves a pillar, we just used it as a crutch
We were certainly uncertain, at least I'm pretty sure I am
Well we didn't need the water, but we just built that good goddamn

Oh and I know this of myself
I assume as much for other people
Oh and I know this of myself
We've listened to more of life's end gong than the sound of life's sweet bells
Was it ever worth it was there all that much to gain
Well we knew we'd missed the boat and we'd already missed the plane
We didn't read the invite we just danced at our own wake
All our favorites were playing so we could shake shake shake shake shake
Tiny curtains opened and we heard the tiny clap of little hands
A tiny man would tell a little joke and get a tiny laugh from all them folks
And drifting around on bubbles and thinking it was us that carried them
When we finally got it figured out that we'd truly missed the boat

Oh and we carried it off so well
As if we got a new position
Oh and we own all the tools ourselves
Without the skills to make a show with
Oh what useless tools ourselves

5 YEARS LATER

I'd like to think this blog thing I have going is a happy place to share random thoughts and things I find interesting or entertaining - whether or not that is true to the outside observer, I don't know. However, this post isn't so light-hearted. There's your warning. It is my space to share what I want, after all.

This day happens to mark the anniversary of one of the most confusing and impactful (yes, I made that word up) experiences of my life - the day we lost 'Mouth' to a drunken idiot who decided to get behind the wheel. The details of the accident still make me sick and are certainly not anything I want to rehash in great detail, but can be found here for the passersby who don't know what happened that Father's Day night.

While I could go on for days about the senselessness of what happened, that is really not why I mention it here. The kid lived a life to be remembered and celebrated; and that's the point. And if you happen to be a person of faith, whatever it might be, throw up a prayer for the Conards today.



One life, one love. Take it easy, buddy.

SWIM

This is one of my favorite songs of pretty much all time, which seems a little ridiculous considering it's age. But some wines are classics right from the get-go, so why not music, too? Basically my favorite place to be in life is the water. I don't know what it is (maybe growing up in the desert?), but there's just something amazing about it to me. Being in the water, and particularly under water... I just don't know. It's a place that makes me realize how small I am in the grand scheme of things, or whatever it is people say. And it's the place I take whatever's messing with me. Whether it's the ocean, the pool, sitting in the shower (yes, I like to literally sit in the shower)... It's like being on Rock, only way more relaxing. And way more wet. Anyway, this song pretty much nails it.

Take from it what you will.




You gotta swim, swim for your life
Swim for the music that saves you when you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim, swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching, you haven't come this far to fall off the earth
The currents will pull you away from your love
Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets, they fired at me from a gun
Cracking the armor, yeah
I swim for brighter days despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water, I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim through nights that won't end
Swim for your families, your lovers, your sisters, and brothers, and friends
Yeah, you gotta swim, through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians who don't see their greed as a flaw
The currents will pull us away from our love
Just keep your head above

You gotta swim, swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting, feel the tide shifting, and wait for the spark
Yeah, you gotta swim, don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon, I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above

Swim

GO WITH WHAT GOT YOU THERE

I've been home about a week now, and when I say I have loved every second I really mean it. This is my place, my town, my valley, my home. I got my first blog comment tonight, and while it was exciting it was kind of hard at the same time. While you can all read it, I just wanted to mention it briefly.

The comment was anonymous, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that it came from a friend in CA (I'm smart like that). For those of you random passersby that don't know, I spent the last four years of my life at Pepperdine in CA, and spent some time in Florence, Italy, as well. While they were probably the four most challenging years of my life for a variety of reasons, I am so thankful I got to live out the experiences I did, meet the people I met, and get the education that I got. Fun fact of the day - that education is currently worth more than my family's house; although my lack of a job might tell you otherwise (oh heeeey, economy).

Over my last couple months in CA, I had a ridiculous amount of conversations about where life was headed, and a lot of the people I talked to had one thing to say... "I don't know what's going to happen, but I don't want to go home." I completely understand that perspective, and definitely believe it holds merit. College was a blast. But when it came down to it for me, all I wanted was home. That's no knock on CA (well, maybe a little), and certainly not on all my friends there, but it's what I needed.

When you're a kid you always hear about how home is where the heart is. Those that know me well know that I hate cliché, but it is what it is (I say that a lot, cliché or not, but mostly because it's true). While I was in CA that's where my heart was, no doubt. I had a blast and wouldn't change a whole lot of anything that happened there. But while I was there, my pulse came from what I have here. And it goes beyond just a person or people - it's a community. It's irreplaceable, just like every individual community is. Community is amazing; and I fully believe it's what keeps us going, day to day, week to week, trial to trial. When things hit the fan for me last summer, my brother and one of my best friends on my doorstep in CA a couple days later without me even asking. In no way is that me saying that the community I have in CA is inadequate in some way; it's just how amazing the community I have here is. It's why I'm home. It's what got me to CA in the first place. Without this community, I would have settled here and never taken the risk of challenging myself elsewhere to begin with. I love California, this is just where I need to be right now.

I guess this kind of just bumbled along and ended up much longer than intended, and I would like to clarify that in no way am I suddenly a proponent of complacency and settling for something well known and comfortable rather than taking risks. Don't ever stop challenging yourself and the status quo. But when you get somewhere that was worth going, stop and take a second to realize how the hell you got to where you did, and recognize how valuable whatever it was that got you there still is.

RIDE TO WRIGLEY

Actually, to be honest, it's more of a ride to the Biltmore. But they're only about 100 yards apart and I like alliteration; especially when the words involved don't start with the same letter (as in, freakin' pheasant). I also like parentheses, ellipses, commas, and starting sentences with 'and.' Deal. Anyways...

Now that I'm back home in the Valley, I have been riding Rock (my bike, short for his real name 'Rockhopper') from my house to the Wrigley Mansion/Biltmore every night that I'm not out with the friends doing something we probably shouldn't be doing. It's something I used to do before I went off to school and one of my favorite ways to both torture my post-grad body back into shape and decompress. It's Matt time - a way for me to just get away from everything and think, and now that I'm back it's no different. I'm loving it. I take off around 10 every night and get back whenever it is that I decide I'm done riding.

Tonight post-dinner, pre-ride, I spent some time reading a friend's blog and when I got out on Rock I found myself running through a bunch of different things that she had to say. I was kind of surprised by it, and quite impressed, actually. So impressed, in fact, that I decided I might need a blog of my own. Not because I think I am full of some special wisdom, but because of the fact that her blog made me think. It dominated Matt and Rock time. Hopefully, if anyone ends up reading this, something I have here might provoke some thought as well. I'm fully convinced thinking is good. Great, in fact. And at worst, random people like yourself get to creep on my life. Lucky you.

With that said, I have no idea what this might become or how often I will even use it. But as with all things in life, it is what it is, and this happens to be my feeble attempt at a blog. This is me, these are my thoughts, and you are welcome to join along.

I love home. There's nothing better. And so ends the first attempt. Take it easy.

MP