walk a mile

I am a loyalist.

American Revolution references aside, once I find something I like I go with it. Exhibit A: the banner to my blog.

For the past 3 years the center of my footwear faithfulness has been the Sperry Top-Sider. Since its introduction in 1935, the boat shoe has been popularized by sailing enthusiasts, seasoned frat stars and presidential icons alike.

Due to a longstanding distain for the sock, Sperrys are a perfect fit for me. Beyond the nonexistent prerequisite of cotton footing, I do enjoy the undeniably classic styling of the leather shoe and the Kennedy endorsement doesn’t hurt.

Its relevance in nearly every social situation has made it both the go-to shoe and a practically impossible inanimate pairing to part with, which is why I don’t. The  daily wear and tear combined with constant use may be the reason for a pair’s inevitable demise but it is also why I can’t bring myself to sentence them to the plastic-lined fate of a trashcan.

I buy a new pair and retire the old one to the corner of my closet. Its how it should be.

I am a loyalist.


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I am an idealist who views the sky as only a literal limit but even I can’t genuinely say that I am ready for National Public Radio.

My first podcast is done. Good, bad or ugly it has been released for all of the world to hear.

The hills are alive with sound of me obnoxiously gnawing on a carrot. Ok maybe not the hills, but at least every inbox my mother has electronically submitted it to.

Storytelling is nothing new to me. Doing it well though is a relatively novel focus.

An informal verbal transaction is the most comfortable means due to the generally relaxed nature associated with this form of exchange but during the past six years I have become comfortable with the written tale.

In my experience with print, my biggest focus in utilizing quotes was the context. During the podcast process not only did I have to factor in context of quotes but the quality of the actual recording.

Prior to the production of “coed contradiction” I have never had to worry about what else the recorder picked up. Gunshots, blown speakers, starting engines and other ambient distractions were just momentary inconveniences that did not play much of a role in regards to the inverted pyramid sent to the presses.

It was a bit surreal to have to pass on a response during editing due to the simple crack of a coke can or auditory calling cards of fraternity house shenanigans.

There is a certain level of awareness necessary in the interview for a podcast, which should develop with time and practice.

The only other notable aspect as result of this initial attempt at podcast perfection was the listening to my voice on constant playback.

You would think that for someone that loves to talk so much, that it would not be difficult to stomach their own voice.

Feel free to lend me your ear for the test run. Its’ pleasantness ranges somewhere between that of nails on a chalkboard during a hangover and hearing The Beatles for the first time.

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coed contradiction

coed contradiction

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a number one with dr. pepper

It was McDonalds. Big Mac. French Fries. Dr. Pepper

I was in 3rd grade. Mesita Elementary School Cafeteria.

My big sister had come to eat lunch with me. The details were simple enough.

She had a lunch break. I had a lunch break. Hers not geographically restricted. Mine was limited to the four walls of our cafeteria.

She had eaten McDonalds before. I had eaten McDonalds before.

The fries, salty. The burger, greasy. The meal, filling.

She didn’t hear about whom Corey had asked to the dance or how Jen did on her physics test or when David was planning on going to the basketball game. She did hear about how much Tavo liked stickball and Peter’s thoughts on a recent Goosebumps book and Tyler’s looming dentist appointment.

I don’t remember what I wore that day. I don’t remember what table we sat at. I don’t even remember what we had eaten but a Big Mac is a logical assumption added for literary effect.

The details were simple, that’s why I don’t remember them.

What I do remember is that my sister in high school came to eat lunch with me.

That small window of time designated for caloric intake lead to an early epiphany. Mandy isn’t just my sister. She is my role model. She is my voice of reason. She is my best friend.

That lunch was the start of a true relationship beyond our routine post-church service meal at Jaxons, the forced attendance to her tennis matches and our half-blooded roots.

For the hour or so she removed herself from the overly-dramatized, junglesque world of Franklin High School and immersed herself into my elementary existence without shame.

A nine-year age difference somehow instantly dissolved.

Her sins of turning me into a customizable doll in my earliest years on this earth were washed away. All of the ribbons, sundresses and complimentary shades of blushes, were forgiven.

All because of a burger and fries.

Thank you Mandy. Happy Valentines Day.



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time to wake up

I’ll be honest. Until this week I had nearly zero knowledge pertaining to the digitally downloadable, audibly arousing message, otherwise known as a podcast.

I could lie. It would be easy. But I’ll save the deliberately inaccurate fallacies for a future post.

Prior to this week my experience with creating and listening to podcasts was comparable to my ability of successfully tying a tie. Both equally embarrassing.

I make the association because I see both as vital skills for a future in public relations.

My excuse for the podcast is that the term wasn’t even coined until 2004 and for the tie thing, well I said I wouldn’t lie so we will just move on.

This week was my awakening to the beauty of a podcast. To avoid the cliché of a kid in a candy shop, which I incidentally just used, it was sincerely exciting.

The potential to hear stories with podcasts is almost limitless, which if you are keeping score at home is one of my favorite things in this world.

An early front-runner for my utmost affection is NPR’s StoryCorps. The podcast is a part of a nonprofit oral history project, which has already archived some 30,000 stories of American life.

Without any preconceived notions of the necessity of Hollywood production value for a good story, StoryCorps achieves something rare in our oversaturated world of unnecessary expletives and cat pictures with captions.

StoryCorps is simple. StoryCorps is genuine. StoryCorps is worthwhile.

I am a collector that goes through a time-proven routine. Case-in-point: my abundance of button-down shirts.

When I discover a new joy, I tend to stock up beyond the point of sufficiency. Eventually the luster wears off, the obsession evolves into appreciation and my interest is at a normal level. Well normal for me at least.

In a mere matter of hours following the commencement of my podcast search, my iTunes account was subscribing to more than ten storytelling-related podcasts.

There is only one issue now; finding the time to listen to them all.


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a man to remember. a legacy to learn from.

Ten minutes in my room and a couple of my obsessions will easily catch your eye. In no particular order relevant to preference: Washington Nationals, Ralph Lauren, Phi Kappa Tau, Entourage and John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Each of these interests developed over time and my taking a liking to the legacy of our 35th president was no exception.

What started out as a fascination in middle school has evolved into a full-blown addiction. For context purposes, I am not yet to the point of utilizing an online soundboard to create a personalized Kennedy voicemail but I wouldn’t feel right if my vintage JFK portrait wasn’t hanging in my room.

Although I initially fell in love with his iconic image, it was his ability to maintain that image that challenged me.

I may be a bit naïve on occasion, but I have never thought of Kennedy as a walking saint among mere mortals, because frankly he wasn’t. As much as it pains me to admit, the man was flawed.

Based purely on assumptions, the man loved being in other women’s beds just as much as he did being on his boat. Which he cared about more is not the issue here, but which the press covered more is.

Maybe it was a certain respect for his office or that the media developed a man crush on him, but his affairs and other not so honorable acts would definitely garner different exposure in this century.

It would be plain ignorant to call the man “under the radar” but in that culture many of his actions were just that.

Kennedy wouldn’t have survived with a golden boy image in the age of social media. Don’t believe me? Do a little searching yourself.

Keep in mind that before the dawn of the Internet the Kennedy legacy had built up a reserve of respect that could make a Purple Heart recipient jealous.

Go to YouTube. Search “Kennedy.” Search “Bush.”

The four initial videos for “Kennedy” are related to his death and prowess as an orator.

The same doesn’t go for “Bush.” A total of three music videos and a compilation of  W’s famous mistakes tops the list.

Social media would have caused Kennedy a headache that no aspirin nor press secretary could make go away.

The fact is, if acting as Commander in Chief now Kennedy would not survive one week of viral assaults. Fortunately, his legacy is a different story.


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