My College Archive:Fishing for the Definition of Individuality

NOTE: "I was blogging...when blogging wasn't cool. From my hat down to my boots..." (Re-read & imagine Barbara Mandrell singing it.)

I recently found some of the columns I wrote on a weekly basis for my college newspaper. It was the mid-90s and "blog" was something we did the morning after going to the bar. I thought it would be neat – at least for me – to share some of my favorite ones.

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I think it’s neat that there are people who watch fishing on TV.

I would rather watch something more exciting, like Styrofoam decomposing, but I think it’s cool people sit around and watch this sort of meaningless programming.

The other day, I was at a friend’s house, flipping through the channels when I came across one of these fishing shows. I surf past these types of shows all the time, but for some reason, I stopped on this particular episode.

And it actually got me thinking.

I could care less about fishing and anything associated with fishing – fishing lures, fishing line, fishing poles and fishing boats – but as I watched this particular episode, I started realizing that there are people who do care.

It’s hard to believe, but a fishing show made me realize that every person is different and special in his or her own way.

I actually started thinking about this last semester, while I was sitting in my geology class – but the fishing show pushed me over the edge and forced me to sit down and write about it.

In geology, my professor would stand at the front of the class and just talk and talk about rocks.

I know that’s what you study in geology, but you don’t understand...this man was all about rocks and never ran out of things to say about them. It was amazing.

At the start of the semester, I would poke fun at him for knowing so much about rocks, because I put rocks right up there with fishing shows.

But halfway through the semester, I stopped making fun of him – because I realized that’s what he likes. I didn’t care, but this man obviously did.

I guess you could say my geology class – which I only went to a handful of times – planted the seed of individuality. The fishing show forced the concept to take root in my brain.

I like certain things that other people could honestly live without. That’s what makes me who I am (I think the word I'm looking for is unique).

Think about this scary scenario:

If everyone were like me, we’d have millions and millions of six-page newspapers, filled with millions and millions of columns about stupid things – like showering in the dark.

There would be no doctors, lawyers, or garbage men.

If everyone were like me, Aerosmith would be the only band on the radio – with an occasional tune from Van Halen – and “The Paper” would be the Sunday Night Movie every week. The Cowboys and Rangers would have no trouble selling out their games, because those would be the teams everyone rooted for, if everyone was just like me.

There would be a run on Coors Lite, cookies and cream ice cream, and the No. 2 at McDonalds.

Chicken fried rice would be the national meal, and the guy you invented Snickers would be even more wealthy than he already is.

If everyone were like me, Demi Moore and/or Teri Hatcher and/or Gwyneth Paltrow would be in every movie ever made. There would millions of Land Cruisers on the road. And if everyone were like me, we’d all be living in Seattle.

As much as I hate to admit it...if everyone were like me, this world would be extremely boring.

If everyone were like you, it would be boring, too.

I guess I’ve always known this, but rocks and fishing shows really made me realize it.

I think it’s awesome there are people in the world that get off on working on cars, doing scientific experiments, and selling everything from hot dogs to insurance.

I think it’s great there are some people who like Coolio and others who like Garth Brooks.

I like the fact there are people who prefer ballet over football games and comedies over dramas.

I couldn’t imagine if everyone liked soap operas and hated sitcoms.

I like the fact when you go into a restaurant, there isn’t just one thing on the menu.

I guess you could say the world is like those variety pack of cereal – The Wheaties, Cherrios and Lucky Charms are all different in their own special way, but together they are one.

I have a brand new respect for fishing shows....does anyone want to watch an episode?

Me neither.

CRASH INTO ME: Being a Dad is the Coolest Thing Ever

There are some blog posts that simply write themselves – the content is so compelling and/or poignant and/or humorous that you simply let your fingers go crazy and hope your brain doesn’t screw anything up.

This should be one of those posts, because...

I’m proud to introduce my first-born son – Crash Myers – to “the world.”

(I’m putting an emphasis on “should write itself,” because my sleep-deprived brain is working at the same capacity as a bowl of instant oatmeal.)

Right now, Crash is celebrating his 1-month birthday comfortably pressed against his mom’s chest, sucking the varnish off his vanilla-flavored pacifier, and counting down the minutes until he gets to enjoy the steak and baked potato that TK ate for dinner.

It’s so cool – not just the sweet scene described above – but EVERYTHING.

Here is an e-mail that I sent to several family members and friends right after he was born:

I just wanted to share this picture with you. (It was taken by our neighbor, Arlene.)

Update: Crash is a STUD and LOVES his mommy. (I think it's the whole breast milk thing.)

You think you're ready for something like this, but as I was singing him to sleep after his morning feeding, I broke down a little (in a good way). I don't mean to be over-dramatic and sappy, but this is the coolest thing EVER! How can people look at a baby and not believe in God and/or love?

Thanks for all of your support through this amazing adventure.

Love,

Drew

That incredible feeling – that hit me like a wave on Feb. 16th at 10:39 a.m. – has only gotten stronger.

Actually, this blog post is kind of difficult to write – because there are so many wonderfully great things to share.

To make it easy on my numb brain – I thought a logical place to start would be the delivery room.

There were several things that really stood out to me:

• My wife was an all-star. I even asked her between pushes if she had done this before. They broke her water at 7:30 a.m. and Crash was stealing our hearts before 11 o’clock.

TK rocked the pregnancy, crushed the delivery, and she could have received an honorary degree in lactation consulting. (“Are you sure you haven't done this before?”)

While we’re on the subject of my wife: She is the toughest, strongest, most wonderful woman that I know. She has such a huge heart – more than enough to love all her boys. Crash is a very lucky little boy.

• I didn’t lose it, like I anticipated. I thought I was going to cry like...well....a baby. I didn’t. There were a few tears, but the confidence and clarity, that Crash instantly provided, dried me up.

• I’ve always been terrified to hold a baby under the age of 9 months old. Changing a diaper? Ha! Right! When Crash crashed into this world, I instantly became Super Dad. God flipped a switch in my brain, and I just started doing whatever was necessary to provide for my son. It goes back to clarity and confidence. It was awesome!

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After Crash was born, he was catapulted into the middle of his first battle. His arch nemesis: Low blood sugar. This fight sent him to the NICU, but he came through like a warrior.

The experience really brought me and TK closer together, and I was so proud of my boy – but it was all the babies in the intensive care unit that stole my focus and attention.

My Facebook status after we were discharged: “WE'RE GOING HOME! Thank you for all of the prayers. I have one more request, though. Please pray for all the families who still have a baby in NICU – there are almost 40 at All Saints alone. I bet you even know someone living this horrible adventure right now.”

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Since we pulled into the driveway as a family, it has been a “trying” and “educational” experience. Those both carry negative connotations, but it’s totally opposite. In a sick and twisted, former football coach kind of way – this is fun.

I love trying to figure it all out – what works best...can we tweak his schedule just little...what if we did this...how can we improve that.

What do we need to do in order to "win" today?

The funny thing is: Even if Crash screams his head off for a couple of hours and signs off with an up-the-back blowout...it’s still so wonderfully great.

WIN!

Even though he doesn’t know me from Gus (our dog), I still love coming home and holding his perfect little hand and kissing his soft little cheek.

VICTORY!

Even if I'm forced to function on less than 3 hours sleep, it all fades away when Crash falls asleep on my chest during my quite time the next day.

CHAMPIONSHIP!

You know what...several people have encouraged me to write a regular blog and/or a book about being a dad.

They may be on to something.

This was the easiest blog post I’ve ever written.

NOTE: This post is dedicated to all our wonderfully great family and friends who have provided love, prayers and support over the last month. It takes a village to raise a child, and our “village” is nothing short of incredible. Thank you!

UPDATE: Launched my new "Daddy Blog" on March 19th