Hey Night Shift Alumni!
Hope all is well with you guys! If you haven’t done so yet, please check out my latest podcast where I interviewed Pastor Bob Beeman, the original Heavy Metal Pastor! It was an awesome chat where we discussed theology, music and the dynamics of living on the edge while carrying your cross. It was a great chat and I hope you guys get a lot out of it. Anyways, that isn’t the point of this post, but I couldn’t resist a good ol’ fashioned cheap plug.
*Troll face*
Listen up, Sonny!
Recently, I turned 31 years old and I’ve been thinking a good bit this last week about how different I am now than I was when I was 21. Like most 21 year olds I couldn’t see past the next 5 minutes (especially if a case of Guinness or a sun-kissed club rat was in my field of vision), I felt 10 foot tall and bulletproof and on a good day the attention span of Boy George at a bathhouse.
While part of me occasionally smirks at some of the more hedonistic moments of that era (as I think is natural with most men when they age), part of me can’t help but to laugh and moreover, part of me can’t help but to feel a bit pissed at the gaunt, pale, horny little shit that I was. As cliche as it sounds, the more I started to think about it, the more and more I started to think about what I would say to 21 year old me. Coupling all of this sentimentality with a freshly polished can of High Life, I figured “Why not just tell him?” and decided to pen everything I’d tell 21 year old me if I ever came across him.
Dear 21 Year Old Damn Messenger,
I think this is just as stupid as you do, but I have to get this off of my chest. Yes, I know the entire premise of this sounds like the plot of a terrible Lifetime original movie or one of those hilarious self-discovery books that you love to laugh at in the window of Walden Books at the mall when you’re not staring at the ass of some cute random Asian woman in front of you; however, somebody’s gotta pull you aside and tell you the deal. (She’s married by the way. . .and her husband is loaded! The girl at Hat Shack is all yours though. A bit batty but beggars can’t be choosers! Just ignore the guy’s name tattooed on the side of her neck. . .).
Just know that as I think of the right things to say to you, I want to get off my chest the fact that I’d slap the living piss out of you if I met you. Harsh? I’m sure. But after reading what I am about to write to you, I’m sure you’d come to some type of understanding as to why I feel that way.
I’m going to try to give you the cliff notes, because God forbid you read anything longer than a Wikipedia entry. While I’m proud of a lot of the stuff you’ve done like finally working up the nerve to drive a car, making lifelong friends who don’t have screen names and *gasp* socializing, there are a few things that could use some serious consideration.
1.) You should be podcasting! (Another cheap plug, I know. Shoot me.)
2.) Metrosexual comes from the latin phrase ‘Friendus-Zonus-Permanentus’. Whoever told you that it’s a good idea to wear pink, spike your hair and spend more money on clothes than Ross Matthews at a J Crew flash sale was either A.) lying out their ass or B.) Ross Matthews at a J Crew flash sale. Keep it simple! A $10 black tee, clean jeans (aka free of Cheetos dust) and a short, clean hairdo does more than enough to turn heads.
3.) You’re 6’2 and weigh 180 lbs. . .enjoy it while it lasts because dad-bod’s-a-coming! Gotta give you props though! It sure is a lot better than the 260 you lugged around at 19. With that said, I would’ve appreciated it if we kept that whole fitness thing going. Don’t worry though, I won’t kick your ass for that. . .but 25 year old us ain’t getting off the hook that easy!
One thing I will kick your ass for though is:
4.) Spending $75+ every weekend at the bar! Seriously?! A 6 pack of High Life is $3.99 and everyone will think you’re just as sophisticated as they did when you were getting sloshed on Warsteiner. Aka not very! Which gets me to my next point. . .
5.) Stop giving a sh*t about what anyone thinks about you! Outside of your priest (who can make you repeat more Hail Marys than a crowd at a TuPac concert) or your parents (those long suffering saints who let your crash on their couch for much longer than you should have) the opinions of others are about as useful as a cigarette to a Mormon. So please, instead of seeking external validation from people you’ll never meet again, for the love of God take some of that money you spend on hair-gel, imported booze and Armani Exchange nad invest in Facebook stock. God only knows this post would’ve been much more comfortably written from the cozy confines of a private jet.
I can’t stress it enough. Stop giving a sh*t about what others think! Don’t give one about what your friends think, society thinks, the random club rats you want your turn with think, meaningless Myspace drifters think, musicians think, you’re friend’s uncle Fred thinks, etc. Heck, don’t give a shit about what I think either! But only at your own peril though. After all, if you ignore me you’re going to end up with a dad-bod, student loan debt, years of frustration and anxiety, grief, loss, despair, despondency, redemption. . .friends. . .love. . .faith. . .a beautiful wife. . .podcast. . .a house. . .family. . .happin-
Actually, on second thought. . .what you’re doing right now is actually pretty great, because you’re going to grow up to be pretty darn happy. And after all is said and done, I think you’ll like me. Maybe I should do the same with you. Yeah, you’ll take more than a few on the chin on your way there, but you’ll get back up. With that said kid, scratch everything I just wrote and just remember this:
1.) Live, love, learn, take your lumps and have no regrets.
I’ll try to take my own advice while we’re at it.
Carry on you skinny, gaunt, pale little shit. . .private jets are overrated.
Sincerely,
31 Year Old Darn Messenger
You guys take it easy and have a nice lent.
– TDM