Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Happy Birthday James-Jim-Gime Marshall Rufus Smith!

This blogisode will be a birthday tribute to the best of the best. Today would have been Jim's 21st Birthday so I dedicate today's blog to all things Jim.

Happy Birthday Gime! 21 would have been a significant birthday if it hadn't been like so many other weekends in high school and college. I think you exercised the rights most people reserve for their 21st birthday on your first drunken camping trips.

Who could forget the St. Patrick's Day where you and I split a mini-keg of home-brewed beer and a six pack of cider hidden in the back of the van during Fredericksburg's Annual St. Patty's Day Parade. We got so drunk that I jumped onstage and pulled an ever-jubilant Mom onstage (second favorite holiday: St. Patrick's Day. She was feeling benevolent to say the least) to scream Irish Drinking songs with the unwitting senior guitarist. Then more drinks in the pub (though neither of us were of legal age) and screaming irish drinking songs out the window on 95 and the continued partying at home. You stared Shannon Kingett, your then best friend of seven years, in the face for THIRTY SECONDS before you recognized her. Then you got really upset at me for telling the DDR story. Hilarious.

Also of note are the many camping trips whose antics include and are not limited to:
- Ripping off your own shirt, wrapping it around a stick, lighting it on fire, and going all Tom Hanks in Castaway yelling you are man and you created fire
- Drinking an entire bottle of tequila and being drunk for the next 24 hours. That 24 hours included marching in a parade in support of Sean Connaughton where you thought that handing out campaign literature to hot underage girls would somehow help the cause. Also, you thought a great campaign slogan to shout would be "Bolling Eats Babies!" While the alliteration was powerful, the scrutiny it could have brought down on the Connaughton campaign made it a short-lived slogan. Then, you slept for 15 hours and when we got on the bus the next day, you still smelled like tequila. And I quote, you moaned, "Oh God! I don't have my voice, I don't have my hair, and I don't have the ability to pass a sobriety test!" Utter shambles.
- Slapping Connor Powers in the face when he refused to drink water.
- Running from imaginary cops.
- Running from real cops. And having the good sense to hide all evidence under various piles of wet leaves so investigations made authorities believe that those cans could have been there for weeks. Bob is seething to this very day.
- Beer pong in the woods. Brilliant.

I remember finding you at the bottom of the stairs in Westport talking to "Joe" on the phone, who turned out to be DGon. I remember you showing up to the opera cast party in just a bowtie, cuffs, and slacks and really getting the party going. Then again, there are probably about five other parties you wore similar attire, including Allison Kinney's party freshman year of high school.

I could go on and on and on and on and on about how many fabulous drunken stories I have about you. You didn't wait for milestones. You created opportunities for manhood, mayhem, and maturity as you saw fit in the moment you discovered the possibility. You were passionate, uninhibited, and tenacious. Rather than daydreaming, you set about finding ways to make it happen in your own backyard. Whether it was turning a discarded VCR into a robot, turning an abandoned middle sectional found on the median of Dale Blvd into a luxurious and loved leather armchair, turning the kitchen into a brewery, the storage under the deck into a secret moonshine facility, roasting green Jamaican coffee beans and turning the house into a low-budget but highest quality coffee bar, or making your own brand of wallets made of nothing but duct-tape, you found a way to make it happen NOW. It could have been the ADD. It could have been the added hours of contemplation from insomnia. I, however, think it was just you. I found a project on my family I did when i was 9 years old and in it, when asked to describe you, I said: My brother Jim is seven years old and he is a scientist. This is how I will always remember you. Not as a wild-man, not for how fast or how much you could consume. I will remember you always as constantly in pursuit of knowledge, undeterred in your will to experiment, and judicious and ingenious in your review of data and processing of results. The world was your laboratory and no experiment was too small or too large to take on.

I will remember you for your loyalty, your unconditional love that was the greatest example I had. To be someone's hero would be a lot of pressure if it came from anyone but you. You saw me with this unwavering confidence that I could fix or handle anything. Best of all, when I couldn't for you or for myself, you knew better than to offer solutions. You just furrowed your brow, pouted your lower lip, hugged me, told me how much you knew it sucked and how sorry you were, and usually made me something delicious (like a sandwich, but not like the way I always asked you to). You made me feel like anything was possible not because the world was without obstacles but simply because you knew with enough will power they could be out-maneuvered, out-charmed, or if they refused to give, there was something greater worth pursuing. Most importantly, when I failed, you always found some way to remind me that I was still "the best person you know". Far from true, but when you said it I knew you meant it and it was profound coming from a man of so few words and judgements. You loved bigger than the sky and you taught me that loving people is not about grand, over the top gestures or keeping score. It isn't even about being there for the big things. It's just about being there. When I think about the 19 years we spent inseparable, there are just as many moments that come to mind for their epic or severe nature as there are simple and mundane. But not really mundane, never when they are shared with someone with whom anything and everything is comfortable and acceptable.

A lot of people will mourn that you never had a 21st birthday party because it is yet another milestone indicative of how many of the rewards of a long, healthy life you will never get to experience. I won't mourn it. I mourn not having you here every day but I take comfort in knowing you always lived the life you wanted in the exact moment you were there. You had a million 21st birthdays. A life that is always exactly what is should be can never be called "robbed", "deprived", or even "short-lived". You lived more than most of us ever will. So here's to you, Gime. Rufus. Jimmy. The Calvin to my Hobbes and the godson you made yourself to me by choice. I love you with all of my heart and you will always be my partner in crime.

Not that you don't already know, but I thought I'd bring you up to speed on some things in the past year you would have totally loved:
1) The Lonely Island. It blows my mind that you only ever saw/heard "Jizzed in My Pants" and have no idea that "I'm on a Boat" even happened. How is that possible? You would have known every word to every song on that album. Except Incredibad. That one, I think, would have prompted a short-lived debate that would have ended in the mutual agreement that it's just a little weird and not as funny.
2) City of Angels. While Ben did a wonderful job, man you would have been brilliant. You would have rocked the stage and with the combined powers of our lifelong chemistry, your almost decade long chemistry with Allison, and the awesomeness of James, we would have been a rockin quartet. I just miss you onstage and singing.
3) Living in NYC this summer. Joe, Kofi, and Josh crashed with me for a week. I'm pretty sure you would have been there a month.
4) College humor has these prank wars that Amir and Streeter do. They're ridiculous. One of them has the big screen at Yankee Stadium say that Streeter is proposing to his gf, unbeknownst to Streeter, and his gf accepts. When he explains that he isn't proposing, she slaps him and breaks up with him. Then, to get back at him, Streeter has Amir take the blindfolded half court shot at a Maryland bball and tells the crowd to scream like he made it. Amir then thinks he won $500,000 only to find out he was pranked. SO good. You'd have died (no pun intended) (nobody can even get upset because you know Jim would have joked like that all the time)
5) Modern Family. You'd have been obsessed with that show. And Flashforward. But mostly Modern Family. Plus this season of 30 Rock has been great and you would have shit a chicken if you'd seen your boy from Xanadu was on there. Hilarious.
6) There are a lot of bands I've discovered that you'd have really liked. Plus Jay-Z had a comeback! You would have cried with joy. AND he had a single with Alicia Keys. It's like you did this.
7) Road and I have had so much good ass wine and cheese. So I'm telling you now so you can't go all Arsenio on me when I join you someday.
8) Road got these really soft slippers and I couldn't help think of you. You loved anything luxurious like that. Oh, also our new house and all that good stuff.
9) Gorilla Coffee, a place that makes ridiculously strong coffee in NYC. Also the sushi I had this summer was to die for. OH! And you would have loved Tapas, it's like the perfect meal for you. Lots of little delicious plates. SO delicious. It's like gourmet Taco Bell. Speaking of, Taco Bell has this new five layer burrito that would have blown your mind for 87 cents. Oh. Man.
10) There are a million things I really wish i'd had you there for. Graduation, Christmas, Thanksgiving, my recital, going to that red carpet premiere with Nathan Gunn (sad you didn't know about him before you died), Mimi's funeral, the beach, St. Patrick's Day, who am I kidding, EVERY day. But I don't even have to try to make you a part of all of these things because I really do feel like you're with me in everything I do. I promised I would always take care of you while you were alive and I have felt you looking out for me at each of these things. It's like the familiar way i could tell you were in the same room as me before without seeing you, only now I can't prove it with sight. But I know you're there.

I hope that if birthdays are celebrated post-mortem, yours is absolutely fantastic. I know we will be celebrating here in spite of Snowmaggedon. I hope most of all that you know that you are loved and missed by so many down here. You always worried that you were never good enough, that you never lived up to your potential, that you were and would always be a disappointment and this made any modicum of success scary to you. I hope you are at peace knowing that a life that touched so many so deeply in such a short time, that exuded such love and passion for connection never ever was a failure or fell short of the expectations we all should hold ourselves to. You were an inspiration, the model of a man, and beyond successful to everyone who loved you.

I love you, Jim. Happy Birthday!

Friday, February 5, 2010

Snowmaggedon? Lame-aggedon.

Preemptive precipitation panic much? Everyone has talked about the "Storm of the Century" all week (as if that even means anything, we're only a tenth of the way in), the great Nor'easter that will quickly turn DC into a multi-town version of The Shining. Hide the axes, make sure you clean out enough food to ensure obesity on the other side of your snowed-in sedentary weekend, and brace yourselves. I just find one thing puzzling in this little equation...

ITS NOT EVEN STICKING YET! AS OF 3:15 PM!!!!

::slow clap initiated:: You stay classy, Northern VA.

Here's the financial breakdown of what this snowstorm has cost me based on everyone's premature evacuations:

1) $52.50 of working today since the government closed at 1 PM. The FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. Granted, that may not seem like a lot of money to you, but I am poor and trying to save for grad school. Speaking of grad school...
3) $549.81 in travel fees for airfare and hotel reservations for an audition I don't get to go to. Why? Because USA Airways decided to cancel 24 hours before a single snowflake dropped. Subpoints to this bullet:
A) WIN! Boston University: they called me back early this morning to schedule me for a new audition after I left a panicked voicemail yesterday. They were extremely pleasant and very reassuring.
B) FAIL!!!! Expedia.com: I would ask for them to also refund the three hours of my life they wasted, but then I wouldn't get it back for 30 to 60 days, according to their policies. I stayed on the phone for 45 minutes only to be told to call back in an hour when they could confirm with USA Airways that my flight had been cancelled since they "weren't picking up". I called back in an hour and continued to wait for another 45 minutes while they tried to call USA Airways again and put me on hold before I could say "Waaaaaaiiiiiit! Why can't you just check onliiiiiiiiiiine??????" Then I put my phone on the dresser to charge, which promptly fell and closed and hung up. Lots of censoring about what was said and done after that. I called back again, held for another 35 minutes, and a lovely man named Jose finally had an IQ greater than the number of feet he has and decided to use the tracking number to check online. HALLELUJAH! Just as the voicemail I was left revealed, my flight WAS cancelled! That night, there were two Latin American men with very secure places in my heart. Unfortunately, Jose's boss, we'll call him the Alcalde, informed me that they would refund my money. In fact, I should have it back in 30 TO 60 DAYS. I thanked the Alcalde curtly and crawled into bed nestled between a blanket of rage and sheets of despair.

Dear Expedia.com: Your jaunty jingle in no way makes up for your mind-numbingly terrible service. And your jingle isn't actually jaunty, I meant that condescendingly, but I"m not sure it comes across in print. You should know that it is terrible and your addition of electric guitar on the fourth repetition every time only makes it more ingratiating, not more exciting and empowering. You suck, Expedia. I'm moving on over to Shatner's territory. Now THERE'S a jaunty jingle, no condescension included.

In conclusion, I have lost $602.31 because people thought the snow MIGHT be an issue. That's more money than I spent in the last two months. Lame-aggedon. Enjoy your snowangels, hope they come with insurance.

I will be using this societally induced hermitage to try out various bottles of wine and finish up the second half of Trueblood and Extras. Maybe baking. And exercise. And maybe some other fun along the way. No, guaranteed more fun along the way! YOU CAN'T TAKE MY JOY, EXPEDIA!!!!!!