What I've Learned Pt. II

Inspired by Esquire magazine

One of my regrets is not saying yes to enough things as a younger man. I’m at the juncture now in my experience where life doesn’t present new opportunities and people as frequently and starts taking them away. I say yes much more now and it’s opened more doors than I can accurately describe.

You have to like the fight. Even if the thing you’re doing brings you joy, even if you’re incredibly good at it, there will be struggles. If you enjoy the fight, everything will be worth the risk.

Advice is like tequila: great in small doses, regrettable when overdone, and something you should probably avoid altogether if it comes unsolicited.

Therapy is worth it. All of it. The money, the time, the awkward moments where you sit in a beige room explaining why you feel weird about your cousin’s wedding. It’s all worth it. It’s not about fixing yourself; it’s about understanding that you were never broken, just confused. And maybe a little drunk on bad advice.

By the time I was ready to let my hair grow long, it was already falling out. This is both literal and metaphorical. The window for certain things closes faster than you realize, but that doesn’t mean you stop growing. You just have to grow in different directions.

The kids’ table is where the fun is. The adults want to talk about refinancing and APR and how much we needed that rain. The kids want to talk about why having gills is cooler than having wings (you can’t wear your favorite clothes anymore, obviously), what your pirate name would be (Captain Thunderbeard, apparently), and what the best flavor of Kool-Aid is (Strawberry Lemonade, clearly). Life goal: when I grow up I want to be a kid.

The most interesting people I know are the ones who nurture their indulgences, the people who go all-in on the weird, specific things that bring them joy. It’s not about excess - it’s about embracing what makes you alive. That’s the kind of fight worth having.

Learning to embrace moments of solitude is a hard-won pleasure that each of us must learn to appreciate.

This might be corny, I don’t care. There’s a lot, a LOT of wisdom in songs. “You got to lose to know how to win,” hits me pretty hard (Thank you, Aerosmith). There’s a long, long list, but yeah… “Don’t stop believing.” No, seriously. Don’t.

I like to have things around me that remind me of being a kid (before the violence). Steroids in baseball wrecked that part of my adolescence, several terrible G.I.Joe, Transformers, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles flicks did untold damage. But LEGO? LEGO is perfect, and right, and holy.

I send letters and postcards often. I rarely get them back, and for a while, I was somewhat bitter about it. I even considered stopping altogether, but I came back to it because it makes ME smile knowing I’m making someone else smile. There’s so much rubbish in the mail, physical or electronic, that I figure something personal matters just.. THAT. MUCH. MORE.

Be more. Fuck ‘em if they can’t handle it.

Surround yourself with people who cheer when you win and make a big deal about it. Do the same for them. Also, talk good shit about your friends behind their backs — it’s the most underrated form of loyalty.

Compliment people, randomly and without hesitation. It costs nothing, and it’s the emotional equivalent of free refills.

Ask better questions. The kind that makes people pause. Save your mistakes like they’re collector’s items. Every wrong answer is just waiting for the right question to come along.

If a kid hands you a toy phone, answer it. Bonus points if you say, “This is Batman.”

Dress like today is the day your mortal enemy will see you. Never let your best outfit be wasted on a funeral.