Too Soon: RIP WTS

On a warm, muggy night in the summer of 2005 I said goodbye to a classmate of mine, Tyler Short. He was making the rounds, like most of us did, before shipping off to college, full of as much promise as anyone could ask. And I’ll be honest, I was a little surprised Tyler contacted me. We were good acquaintances. Shared a lot of jokes as members of Trinity’s AP program. But that was about it. 

Tyler actually had a couple of little cigars for us to partake that evening (it’s ok to indulge every now and again). He met up with me at the Smokey Bones on Hurstbourne Ln. where I worked, and we just chilled in the parking lot after my shift, talking mostly about life. I could tell he was excited about going to Dayton, but he was also really nervous. The promise of the coming years is as nerve-racking as it is exhilarating. I better understood how he felt a few weeks later when I ventured away. I suddenly realized in that moment how much Tyler and I had in common; I wondered why we weren’t better friends those four years at Trinity. According to him, though, we were. He said some kind words to me that night that I’ll never forget, and will always be just between us. 

Tyler, whose full name is William Tyler Short, died Saturday in Covington, KY. He was 24 years old, just one month from finishing up grad school at the University of Cincinnati School of Law. I never saw nor spoke to him after that summer night in 2005. And yet, when I heard about his death tonight, it unexpectedly punched me in the gut. Sadly, several classmates from our Class of ’05 have passed away. Out of all them, I knew Tyler best. 

He was super bright. One of the smartest guys I knew, probably because he wasn’t just book smart like a lot of high school kids. He had street smarts too. He understood people. He knew how the world worked. He got it. Guys like him (or I could say us) seem invincible sometimes. We’ve been blessed with so many gifts, including natural ability, a loving family and tremendous opportunities. 

So when you get news like this, your mind races. How did this happen? Suicide? Out of the question. Car accident? Not this time. Crazy Saturday night? Not at all. Tyler died from an undetected heart condition, according to his obituary in the Courier-Journal. 

On Friday, April 13, he made a Facebook post at 10:30 in the morning. No one, not even Tyler, had an inkling he had one day left to live. It is extremely sad, scary and even more difficult to understand. I will be thinking and praying for all those that knew him best, especially tomorrow during the funeral service.

 I don’t want to get into existentialism at the moment (perhaps another blog). I just want to say that I know Tyler lived a full 24+ years, better than most. I hope more than anything the concept of Heaven and meeting up with loved ones is true; this way Tyler is with his mom, watching over us with his good-natured wit and intelligence, the two qualities I remember most about him. RIP Tyler. Class of ’05...Brothers For Life. 

Too Many Choices?

Ever been to the Cheesecake Factory? Yeah, I was dragged there for a girl’s birthday party too. Kind of a drag. Did you have a hard time finding something to eat? Their menu, if given a few hours, can be read cover to cover. So I suppose “finding something” doesn’t really make sense. Choosing something fits better.

I think our generation is having similar issues. Everywhere you look, a decision must be made. Our parents, for the most part, didn’t meet quite so many people. Didn’t have quite so many colleges...dates...jobs...opportunities. Is it possible to have too many choices? Two out of three bar stools seem to be occupied by the over-thinker. He/She sits there in constant contemplation. It seems we can sometimes base choices on fear of regret or to please others. In today’s job market, the average person has about a dozen “jobs.” Do all of those fit into the same career? Is this happening out of necessity, or is it more this idea of choice, newness or even boredom? 

A lake buddy of mine, who goes only by the name of Jimmy, always tells us young guys that “life is all about choices.” This wise sage, who lives by the water in the “love hut” and only wears khaki shorts, an open buttoned short sleeve shirt and a straw hat (with a Milwaukee’s Best in hand), has been through hell and back. He has seen it all. Numerous triumphs and too many tragedies. Jimmy is an old soul in every sense of the word, and his advice has always stayed with us. 

The best we can do is look at all our options and follow our gut. Make the best choice possible and move on. Don’t look back. Spending too much time analyzing all the what-ifs can drive anyone crazy. 

A classic song by John Mayer (http://www.elyrics.net/read/j/john-mayer-lyrics/why-georgia-lyrics.html) titled Why Georgia sums up the “quarter-life crisis” pretty well. Mayer says he still wonders about the outcome of a verdict less life, and is he living it right? The typical twenty-something peers into the heart of this question much like a contemplating Cheesecake customer. Where am I going?

So what do we do about it? Write bellyaching blogs, duh! But also, I think we just do what feels the most right. There is almost always a little tug if you’re listening. Nothing is 100%. Ever. We make choices and we live with them; we learn from them, and we try to have some fun along the way. After all, you can only stare at the menu for so long...

Cliches - Rock...meet Hard Place.

Attention shoppers, and drivers..and children...and old people...average citizens. Have you ever bumped into an individual that looked lost? Maybe with an unkempt beard, or a wacky hair color, but also wearing nice business attire? They were probably wandering aimlessly, half-focused on the path in front of them, the other half wondering...is this even the right path?

Society...Meet twenty-somethings (for lack of a better term). Occupy Wall Street says we need to take back America, the 99%. We say we need to take on purpose, discovery, the meaning of life...and plans for Saturday night...

My twenty-something friends and I talk all the time about feeling out of place. Two years ago, under my Facebook profile, I posted in the "about me" section that I was between a rock and a hard place. Sheesh! Cliches are such faux pas; yet they exist for a reason.

I had forgotten I posted that, but after 24 months it's still very true. Only I don't just feel it because I'm on the verge of 25. I, like many others, also feel the tug and pull of "homes." I don't fully belong in Tampa, Florida, at least not yet, and the same can be said for going back to Louisville for the holidays.

Check out this interesting column from Bob Greene on CNN. Alluding to James Stewart in the classic It's a Wonderful Life, Greene wrote a tribute to great people like my parents and grandparents, along with most of my good friends, who stayed in their hometown for better and for worse. It made me think! 'Home' at the Holidays

So back to this rock and a hard place, this gap between student and adult identity. No one tells you, but after graduating college there is a HUGE adjustment period. It's not about paying your own bills. It isn't about the responsibilities of a new career, either. It deals with your own self-image. Who am I now? Take my case, for example. I got a teaching job three days before I strutted across the stage to receive my diploma. At 22 years old, I essentially had the job many wait years to acquire. My own classroom, with all my own decisions that entails. I suddenly had an all-consuming job, 60-70 hrs a week with little downtime. I suddenly had co-workers and great friends who were married, divorced, had multiple kids AND had multiple degrees. I may have been young (trust me they let me hear it), but I was one of them. I suddenly saw my age group as very different from me. It wasn't negative or positive. It was just different.

Every twenty-something goes through this, and every friend of mine has a unique story that makes them feel the same way. Out of place. Confused. Torn. Rock...meet hard place. Do we strive to be our parents? Find a spouse, get a house...have a baby, etc etc etc. What is the best career for us? Will we make enough money? Is he/she the one? Questions on top of questions!

Mark Twain once said, "The two most important days in your life are the day you were born, and the day you find out why." This is not a whiny post for people to feel sorry for us poor twenty-somethings. Each age group has its problems...this is ours! So beware when you see us bumbling around street corners. We're not lost, we just don't know where we're going. We have step one of Twain's calendar complete. Now we're just anxiously waiting step two.

I Can Be Both

Double entendres. Oxymorons. Allegories and Alliterations. Playing with words has always been fascinating for me, and I guess that's why I have finally created a blog. Words, and the act of writing them down, have held a type of sanctity that I have never fully embraced.

I don't know where this blog will take me. Maybe this will be my first and only post? But this term "consecrated charmer" is quite fitting. A charmer, by definition, is a seducer and/or sweet talker. Its connotation can be positive or negative and both have been applied to me. To attach 'consecrated' in front of it is a tad contradictory, particularly because it has holy ramifications.

Yet this is my life. I am a walking contradiction. Blessed with good fortune my whole life, but was it because of doing the right things, or simple sweet talk? Who knows!

The duality of this blog will fit the duality of my life. Formal vs. Informal. Humor and Seriousness. Expected vs. Unexpected. Home and Away. You're busy but so am I. Reading my blog can be added to the list, because like a great friend once told me, you can do both!