I'm 30, and I Have My Game Face On

Today, I turned 30. Like most birthdays, it was just a typical day for me. I got up, checked my email, showered, got dressed, went to work, etc. But for once, I have this First Day of the Rest of Your Life feeling. It feels pretty damn good, actually.

I know that when you turn 30, you're supposed to freak out. You're supposed to get depressed, and think about where your life went wrong, and what the hell you are doing. It's 30. You're an adult with 12 years of experience, and what have you accomplished? How many of those years did you waste? How many ships have sailed for you, and are you gonna get stuck now?

Well that's all horseshit to me.

I get the impulse, believe me, but this isn't some new revelation. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't have the thought, at least once, "What are you doing with your life?"

But I've learned to fight this now, and the way I do that these days is to add the word "today" at the end. It totally changes the way you look at the question.

What are you doing with your life today?

Americans take goals a little to seriously. We think that when make it from point A to point B in life, that we'll finally arrive at happiness. But it never quite works out that way, does it?

I've gotten to some pretty badass Point B's already. I've lived on my own in three states. I've made a film that was seen in a packed theater of 1,200 people. I met a guy that got over a million people to vote for him to be president. I'm running the show at the 7-11 I work at, and I now have fans who read my stuff online that I've never met in my life.

And I've made a handful of friends along the way who are still willing to put up with my crap after so many years. That might be the best Point B of all. Making a true friend. It's really hard.

Finding someone that gives you the time of day, and actually believes in you. I've spent so much emotional energy over the years on people who just didn't give two shits about me, and spent so much time trying to be all things to all people, but never being true to who I was.

I may say things now and do things that others don't like, but now I'm ok with that. As long as I say what's in my heart and on my mind, and I actively listen and engage with others, and I have a willingness to be wrong, I will continue to find these friends in the most unlikely of places. That is why my friends are so wonderfully diverse.

And I love you all. Those of you who actually follow me and the crazy things I write about, you mean the world to me. I'm doing it because I'm passionate, but you are the reason I believe that the things I write can actually matter to others.

I'm writing this because today is a milestone. It's a very non-special day, but the first thing I'm doing after the sun sets tonight is having a drink. I'm going to drink to the best years of my life, which are yet to come.

How To Be A Boss While Losing (Or, What I Learned Watching The Colorado Rockies Play Baseball)

I haven't posted much in a while because I prioritized other things. Not that I really needed to. Writing should be a priority for me. But if this year has had a theme so far, I know what it is.

If you're going to lose, at least have fun with it.

I have a lot to be grateful for. I'm no longer at the movie theater, so that's a plus. I won't go into it, but yeah. That's a plus. Trust me.

Around the same time I left, I was asked to take on more responsibility at 7-11. Turns out 8 years of experience doing something that was supposed to just be getting me through college has actually started paying dividends of its own. I don't exactly have a corner office with a view, but I am calling the shots now in more ways than one.

And I don't really care that it's 7-11 anymore. I'm now being introduced by the owner to new hires as the manager. How cool is that? And corporate bigwigs now step aside and let me try things. Sometimes, they don't like what I do, but I'm so good at it now that I know how to give them a hard time and not only get away with it, but I get props for it. The thing of it is I've always been good with numbers, and now I know how to use them get corporate to back off and let me do my thing.

It turns out that I'm really good at retail. Like, really good. I know what looks good, and I know how to grow every category in the store. I know how to make a typically dull service industry job fun, and I can do that for my staff, too.

I say all of that to say something else: this "be happy with who you are and where you're at" mentality is totally changing my life.

Maybe that's why I loved watching the Rockies lose on Thursday.

I mean, if going to see the Rockies was the objective of a video game called "Watching the Rockies Play Baseball," I'd say we dominated the crap out of that game. We made it, we watched it, and we owned it.

Maybe it's true that we were late in part because we drove to the wrong stadium, but if we were playing the "Watching the Broncos Play Football" video game, we would have kicked ass at that game too. I'm just saying.

Maybe we're just first?

But I don't have to go inside Mile High Stadium to know that Coors Field is way cooler. I mean, when you leave Coors Field, you're tripping over downtown. It's, like, right there.

Oh, hey. There's all this stuff, too.

Also, there's a lot of history, even though it is only about twenty years old. It has a reputation for being the place to play offensive baseball because of the lack of air resistance at this altitude. A ball hit 400 feet at sea level in Yankee Stadium would actually travel 40 ft farther at Coors Field. Fast balls would also be faster, and on windy days, the wind plays an even bigger role.

It's also built on a dinosaur graveyard. They dug up so many dino fossils while building it that they decided to make the mascot a triceratops named Dinger. I know, I know. I hope you've been sitting down, because I'm throwing a whole lot of awesome at you.

Perhaps I'm romanticizing it. That happens when you're, well, a romantic. But I'm telling you: the place is awesome.

My friend - we'll call him DJ Plato, because truth - felt the same way. When we showed up, we went to the wrong entrance and asked the lady doing security, "where do we get tickets?" And this is how she responded:

"Tickets? Oh my." Then she looked down at about six tickets sitting in front of her. She rifled through them, then licked her lips while thinking of what to say. Then she said, "Ah, yes. You're going to want to go around this way." She looked like she'd never gotten that question before. I don't know what magical knowledge was hidden in those ticket that helped her find the answer, but I'd say she handled the situation like a boss.

The ticket lady blew me away, though. She's the best ticket-seller-person I've ever met in my entire life. So helpful and sweet and genuinely concerned with whether I am about to have a good time. She even told us that our tickets were good for $6 towards food and beverage, and I'm sure she only did that for us!

Ok, maybe not. But then I asked a vendor in a booth how much the hats were, and he told me the outrageous prices, but did so as if to also say, "But really, you don't have to buy a hat to enjoy baseball, am I right? You just enjoy yourself, ok, kiddo?"

Then, of course, when I actually got a beer and some peanuts, I forgot to use my special discount. But sometimes the Universe will send you a sign that says, as simply as the Universe can possibly put it, that you shouldn't make things sound more complicated than they really are.

We are all One.

Yes, that was a real sign.

Oh, and did I mention who they were playing?

That's right. It just got personal.

The D-Backs actually take baseball seriously. They've got a brand-new stadium which, despite the fact that it rains maybe two weeks out of the year in Arizona, was the first ball park to have a retractable roof. I mean, seriously? Like Denver International Airport, it was not built for the stated reason. It couldn't have been. I'm 100% convinced it was built as a defense against an alien invasion.

Bring it on, Nibiru.

Anyways, add to that the realization that the D-Backs might still be a little sore about the fact that the last time they almost made it to the World Series, they were shut out by the Rockies. That's the sort of thing you don't forget.

When we arrived, we were down 5-1 in the top of the fifth. But because the Rockies never give up, two innings later, the score was 7-6. They pretty much did give up in the ninth, eventually losing by five points. BUT, the best moment was right after the Rockies had their best inning, with three runs to close the gap, and you could see the D-Backs begin to sweat.

And that was worth the price of admission.

For a moment, right as they closed the gap in the bottom of the 7th, as the D-Back cycled through their third pitcher, they were sweating bullets. That felt good to see. This was a really fun game to watch.

Also fun to watch: kids everywhere in the stadium dancing to ACDC's "You Shook Me All Night Long." It's as if they are all thinking, "Oh! A song about shaking! I like shaking!" #awkward

It's this sort of failure that actually makes life really, really interesting. Who really wants things to work out every time? Think about it. In baseball, a "perfect game" is a game where nothing technically happens in the top or bottom of every inning. It's a recipe for agonizing boredom.

Take for instance the mission DJ Plato and I set out on as we left the ballpark that night: to find a good root beer. That's all we wanted to do.

Plato told me about an awesome retro soda and candy shop, so we headed over to check it out.

But like small children, it unfortunately has a bed time.

Fail #1: it was closed. But on the upside, I actually still have my entire week's pay to spend, which I most certainly would have completely spent had this magical kingdom been open. Actually, I probably shouldn't be allowed into a shop like this.

Fail #2: finding a bar that has root beer is surprisingly difficult. We did find a cool pool hall called Tarantula Billiards, though. I couldn't figure out if it was a hipster dive bar, on account of all the coffee-shop art, chalkboard, and PBR advertising, or if it was a sports bar. Judging by all of the random flags, I might have expected this to be the spot to watch the World Cup.

We checked Google. We're pretty sure some of these are made up.

It turns out that the flags represent every country the owner has been to. It's a neat little bar, even if it could benefit from having some root beer.

Fail #3: when finding root beer is impossible, finding a bathroom proves to be just as difficult. We visited three 7-Elevens downtown, and none of them have bathrooms. However, I took pleasure in recognizing the dozens of ways in which all of these 7-11's are doing it wrong.

I'm used to having corporate breathe down our necks over piddly things, but these stores are just not getting it at all. None of the product placement makes any sense, they aren't clean, and none of the staff seems to care.

I know that downtown is a different ball game (no pun intended), but geez. Take some pride in your store.

And that's my point. Even when I'm failing, I'm winning. Always. It's not a measurable place or time, it's a point of view.