Little angel go away, the Devil has my ear today.

One life experience that has always intrigued, baffled, consumed and, at times, humiliated me, is the way that some people crash into my little bubble at the most unexpected of times and find a way to stay there no matter how hard I kick, claw or thrash. With the fury of a thousand suns and the gale of a mid-summer tornado, these rare encounters inexplicably leave me dazed and confused in ways that end up becoming an emotional juggernaut that I can never control. When this occurs, I simply hold onto my ass, let myself get tossed into the air, and pray that I come down somewhere comfortable between what-the-hell-just-happened and I-could-see-myself-doing-that-again.



At least, that used to be the case.

How am I so lucky as to find myself being blindsided by another one of these all too familiar situations is beyond me. You would think at this point, I would be able to sense these locomotives of fate as they barrel down on the nape of my neck, ready to liquefy anything in its way. Hell, at the very worst, I should be able to listen to my fight-or-flight response and get constipated like normal people do. Nope. My body decides to do the EXACT OPPOSITE THING: it turns me on emotionally, mentally and physically, and throws me right onto the tracks, staring into the conductors eyes as we both brace for the point of impact. Color me stupid, color me blind, but you can never color me green.

This time, something happened that was completely foreign to me. It hit me like I had passed out and broke my face on an ashtray in an inebriated stupor...a moment of sober clarity alongside a dislocated jaw, the pain yelling at me. "WAKE THE FUCK UP PAL. YOU'RE DRUNK AND ABOUT TO PUT YOURSELF IN SOME VERY SERIOUS SHIT IF YOU DONT." Choo-Choo. I learned. Jesus Christ, I found myself learning. Analyzing. Listening. Weighing my options. Looking to the past, while not being afraid of the present. And for once...I wasn't acting impulsively. If there is anything that I've learned in the last year, its that impulsive actions will always have an unforeseen consequence.

So there I was, standing my ground, watching as the rocks began to skip around me, when suddenly, I saw a young boy run out in front. My immediate impulse was to scream like a mother fucker to tell him to get off the tracks, but somehow, I knew that he belonged. As he squatted over the now violently shaking steel beneath him, he reached into his pocket, and in one quick motion, placed a penny onto the track and ran to safety. Fighting the urge to close my eyes and allow my fate to be decided for me, I watched as the 100 ton coffin continued to barrel its way towards the inevitable collision that was about to occur.

That damn penny saved me. At first, I thought it was my hand which I had firmly extended away from myself, palm out, in the classic STOP gesture that we all know so well (although, it didn't work so well for that poor security guard in Austin Powers...but I digress). But as I watched the newly created souvenir of my youth bounce back towards my feet, the dots connected better than the stars ever could have written. The edges of the penny completely warped, abraham lincoln's face in a stretched smile across the front. Newton's law was in full-effect today, as I picked up the penny from the graveyard the train had created with its own cargo.

When I was no older than 10, sitting by the campfire in Santa Barbara with my family while making smores, I remember my grandmother telling me, "Andrew, you must never lose sight of who you are or what you stand for. Nobody can ever take that away from you except for yourself. If you are in a position where you no longer know, then you need to remove yourself from it." With the sound of the coastline train in the distance, she handed me a handful of change from a bag off the table.

I am in control of how I choose to harness the powers around me. I can lie down and allow myself to be steamrolled by the effervescent tendencies of these encounters. I can become subservient to the desperation and ravenous impulses that they leave on me.

Or I can stand up.

Grandma ALWAYS knows best.

Sometimes, words aren't enough.

I wish that my mind is concise enough to properly explain how incredibly eclectic the emotions were that I experienced on my trip.

Let me essplain. I spent 2 nights in Las Vegas with my best friends in the world for a bachelor party (which I won't be talking about), to experiencing 4 nights in Washington DC with nothing but time for self-inflection. To blow myself out in sin city, and then find myself with no restraints in our nation's capitol, was a very, very humbling experience; to be honest...something I never thought I would be fortunate enough to experience.

There are an infinite number of things I could try to illustrate for you, and their (possible) implications on my life. It's going to take me more than a few weeks to sort out my feelings, but I can already tell you that the experience itself really has helped me to re-evaluate my perceptions on what is and is not important to me right now. I'll try to explain one of the instances that has combined with the others to create this new outlook.

I decided to take a trip to Arlington National Cemetery by myself. I know that I have at least one family member there (as well as one on the Vietnam memorial), but something stronger drew me to the trip itself. I decided to take the tourist-y tram; JFK's eternal flame, the changing of the guard at the tomb of the unknown soldier, Arlington house and back to the front gate. However, I never made it past the tomb of the unknown soldiers. While the changing of the guard was fascinating (the amount of tradition and detail put into the examination of the new guard's rifle, in order to make sure he was worthy of watchdog duties over the sacred ground was stunning), I decided to strike off the beaten path. I found an intense desire to explore the deeper parts of the cemetery; these men and women have given their lives to defend the freedoms which allow me to visit their resting ground...the very least I could do was to acknowledge as many as possible for their sacrifice.

As I turned the corner up into a new section of this national landmark, I was stopped in my tracks by a 9 horse procession; 3 rows of 3 horses each, 2 manned, 1 left empty, pulling a casket with an American flag draped over the ends of the housing. I found myself, without hesitation, following the caravan to their plot, which had a clear view of the Lincoln memorial, Washington memorial, and capitol hill. As the family let out, I identified a younger woman (no older than 40) who let herself out of the first car as the wife of the deceased. I politely explained that I was from out of town, and would like to pay my respect for her loss. She nodded, hugged me, and invited me to stay.

The next hour became a blur. The prayers, the 21 gun salute, the bugler playing TAPS, leading to the folding and presentation of the flag to the still nameless widow was seen through mosaic eyes. I couldn't keep my composure if I had tried; I didn't want to. In these moments, I began to really understand the power of choice. These men, women and children that surrounded me weren't crying out of sheer sadness...had I asked, I guarantee that 9 out of 10 would have explained how proud they were of this gentleman. In his short time in this world, he found his calling as a soldier. He was so comfortable with himself that he was able to make the choice to protect the rights, freedoms and potential of myself and everybody around me. I could only hope to find a sense of self so strong; I've decided to find it for myself.

I can't pretend that I understand his motivations for the person he chose to become...but I have begun to feel the rewards which come from it. I've begun to feel an overwhelming sense of fulfillment from being accountable for my own choices. It seems juvenile and simple, but its incredibly difficult to not want to hide behind your crutches. As human beings, we all put up our walls to help mentally justify our excuses for not taking responsibility for our choices, or for our lack of ability to make them.

"It's not the right time." "I have bills to pay." "My family is holding me back." "I was in a moment of weakness." "I'm waiting for a sign."







I understand its only been a week, but I don't ever want to forget this feeling. I no longer want to hide behind myself. My choices will be made with confidence, with conviction, and will always be made with no excuses necessary.








Because maybe I can save somebody too. Or maybe I can save myself.