I have to leave to pick up my son in 47 minutes so let’s see if I can do this little exercise in tandem with my birthday making me 47 years old. What can I say? I like a concept, a gimmick, a framework…
47 (Kind Of Random) Things I’m Thankful For In 47 Minutes (Or Less)
My mom. I once read that the person who you really ought to be celebrating on your birthday is the woman who carried you around for a pregnancy, brought you into this world with no shortage of intimate, personal pain, and then took care of you. Where’s the lie there? (I’m not gonna do a writeup on every single list item, lest this get out of hand and I only write, like, 16 before my time is up).
Everyone else. Look, I ran into this same conundrum a few weeks ago. Above our fireplace, my wife has six spaces, one for each person to paint/draw their own square that are then put into matching frames. My initial idea was to draw a Sgt. Pepper-style gathering of People Who Matter To Me and then, as I started doing a little test-sketch (not pictured)
I started to feel bad because…what if someone came over to the house and was looking at the artwork and was like,”oh what’s that?” And then I was like, “Oh, it’s just Everyone Who Matters To Me.” And then they’d go silent while they quietly looked for themselves in the drawing. And then we’d both go silent and the Pleaser in me would feel awful and guilty and mentally dig the deepest hole ever to crawl into. And all existence would cease. So I didn’t do Sgt Pepper. (I actually did a hand-drawn rendering of The White Album, which Holly says is a copout but it’s her favorite Beatles album and I like it, so there). I just couldn’t let that many people down and face the awkwardness down the line. So while writing Everyone Else seems like a butt-covering move, I truly am thankful for everyone in my life. (Except for a few select people who know who they are. And they aren’t reading this.)
Creativity. It’s my favorite part of being alive—the ability to make something where there wasn’t something before. I love how it means different things in different disciplines. You can be creative in operation management, if that’s your thing. You can be creative in problem-solving as a boss. Or, in my case, creativity can mean marketing to accountants or writing songs or drawing lunch bags or writing Substacks or scribbling dry-erase self-portraits. Remember how I wasn’t gonna do write-ups? Ugh.
Phô. On the right day, it’s perfect. The different flavors around the world fascinate me.
Guitars. Recently, I’ve really reignited my love for just sitting down and playing.
Showers. I would be so gross without showers. Honestly, I am grosser than most people. The swarth would be fierce.
Wildflowers. The song by Tom Petty which I’ve recently taken a liking to singing and also Indian Paintbrush, which is my favorite flower by miles.
Good writers who articulate what I can’t and/or put words together in ways that feel like a magic trick. (Specifically today thinking of Michael Chabon, Ocean Vuong, Bob Dylan, George Saunders.)
Swedish fish.
High-quality high school friends. Crap. Here i go, getting more specific on #2’s “Everyone else” but I’ve been lucky to stay in touch with my friends from the Class of ‘94 and it’s been a genuine blessing. We aren’t the same people we were but their friendships have been impactful then and now.
Baseball hats that aren’t for baseball teams.
I’m only on 12? I’m never gonna finish….so….cool weather.
Curiosity
Change, even though I like my little comfort zone
The backpack I got when I worked at Instructure. It’s an elite backpack with just the right amount of space and compartments for everything. And Bren Postma’s cool eyepatch panda pattern on the inside seals the deal.
Jesus. For real. My life is better for trying to be more like the Jesus I’ve learned about. I wish all the people who are pissed about LGBTQ kids and immigrants were paying attention to the same Jesus.
The real-life, here-and-now people who show me what Jesus would’ve really been like. They’re out there. They’re in my life. And I’m not gonna name them for reasons outlined in #2.
Kissing. It’s underrated, if that’s possible.
The Tetons. Formative for me for a million reasons. Stabilizing. Gorgeous.
Swearing. In moderation, it can do wonders.
Hiking
Swimming in lakes
Dreams. What a trip that our brain throws together a whole unpredictable production—cast, crew, writers, lighting, set design, costumes, wild special effects—and alternate reality every night when we close our eyes. SNL could never.
Drummers. I could never.
Harmony singing. The right two people1, the right two notes. It’s all you need.
The fried chicken at Curry Fried Chicken on State Street. Unique and elite.
Therapy. Everyone should.
Reading. I was asked during the pandemic, “what’s one thing you would mandate, if you could make everyone try ONE thing for a whole year, that you believe would make their lives better?” My answer was “reading everyday.” And I don’t mean FOXNews.com or SocialJusticeWarrior.org or other echo chamber crap. Good books.
Jeni’s Peanut Butter & Chocolate Flecks ice cream.
The right pillow.
The right room temperature right before you go to bed.
Sleeping in.
Freedom (these are not in order, though the freedom to sleep in on the right pillow is inarguably nice.)
June Audio. Some of my best memories are there. I’m lucky that many of those memories live on in my ears. Even when I forget, I can put on one of the songs and remember all over again.
Prozac. We covered this already, right?
Gratitude. It has its own mental health medicinal qualities. The trick being that you have to prescribe it to yourself and that you have to mean it. Compulsory gratitude or go-through-the-motions gratitude don’t cut it.
Drawing. I’m not great at it, but it’s fun and there’s something relaxing and meditative about it.
Mixtapes. Not playlists. Not CDs. The actual cassette tapes, especially with custom mixtape art. There was something magical about the captive audience of a mixtape, where it was actually inconvenient to try to fast forward your cassette. Your listener would have to commit, thus increasing the chance that they actually connected with the song and with your intent. If I send someone a playlist, they may like it, but they’re gonna probably skip a song or two if it doesn’t grab them immediately.
Health. I have some back/neck/spine issues and could stand to exercise more regularly but overall my body is good to me.
My kids. (Violating #2 again.) I am grateful for their individuality, for the tsunamic ways they humble me, for their spirits, for the unique ways we connect with each other, for their big big hearts, for the privilege of being their dad (remind of this when I’m fuming at bedtime). Like most parents, I cycle through Favorites. It can change by the minute and by the moment. But each has their moments.
iPhones. I know they come with some negative side effects, but—just to point out one gigantic thing— I would have zero photos of my life and my kids’ lives if it depended on me carrying some DSLR around. The fact that it also has a billion other functions—GPS alone!—would blow my grandparents’ minds.
My high school number on the East High basketball team was 42. I feel lucky that I had a great high school experience (even if, on the basketball front, I didn’t get the playing time I wanted) where a lot of people hated high school. I have mostly really fond memories of the times and people. Anyway, as #42, with extremely limited playing time (meaning: we were either winning or losing by a huge margin and the outcome was already decided), I had the hightest Point Scored Per Minute Played average on the team. Part of that was my friends on the team making sure to get me the ball when I finally got in and the other part was me ballhogging. I’m no Uncle Rico, but I have fond memories, even just of benchwarming with my friend Barrett.
Live music. I’ve been to concerts that have been utterly transcendent and transporting.
Kindness. I’m grateful when I witness or receive or am in the position to give kindness, especially in world that seems fractured, divided, and obsessed with the downside of everything.
Home. I’m grateful to have places and people that feel like home.
I’m grateful we have a 46th president of the United States, even if he’s not my ideal and falls short of what I’d hoped.
Holly. I’m not the moron who makes a list of 40+ things he’s grateful for and leaves off the daily difference-maker in his life. C’mon. Holly pushes me when I need pushing. Challenges when I need challenging. Consoles when I need consoling. You get the idea.
That felt good. Need a little pick-me-up? Try your own list of (your age here) things you’re grateful for.
Some of my favorites:
The Everly Brothers
Alan Sparhawk & Mimi Parker (Low)
Simon & Garfunkel
The Secret Sisters
Gillian Welch & David Rawlings
The Staves
Beatles (Lennon & McCartney especially)
Beach Boys
Gary Louis & Mark Olson (The Jayhawks)
The Louvin Brothers
Markets Irglova & Glen Hansard (The Swell Season)
The Blue Sky Boys
The Flamingos
Emmylou Harris & literally anyone
CSNY
Milk Carton Kids
Peter Gabriel & Sinead O’Connor (on his Us album)
The Chicks
The Band
I’m With Her
The Innocence Mission
The Byrds
Fleet Foxes
The Weepies
Anais Mitchell & Erik Johnson (Bonny Light Horseman)
AC Newman & Neko Case (New Pornographers)
Kasey Chambers & Shane Nicholson
Boygenius
Ryan Tanner & Kiki Jane Sieger (on his Promised Land album)
Teddy Thompson & Rufus Wainwright (on the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack)
Darrell Scott & Tim O’Brien
Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard