- Cookies and Cream
- Anything else with chocolate
5:30 PM 9/10/2010
“So 5:30 hits and I'm done with work so I toss up the man purse over the shoulder. WHAT!?!? I said it... Man purse... I'm not that proud... Ok... So I toss the man bag (better?) over the shoulder and wave adios to the guys in the office and jump in the Massage chair on wheels (Ford Focus).” (Please make due note of my first official footnote.)
I place the call to my contact:
She picks up.
Me: Hello. What am I getting? Contact: I don't know.
Me: Well... narrow it down for me... Pie or ice-cream (These are the obvious choices in desert generes if I'm only given 2 choices.... You have pie, cake, cookies, ice cream and pastries (which includes but not limited to those cream cheese filled glazed nom nom’s and donuts) Let's be honest cookies are an easy last place and cake has been good to me.... But Ice Cream and Pie make it every time... If I want “cake” it will be an ice-cream cake. Sorry normal cake but you're old and used up... I've had you since I was 1. That's almost 30 years of my life that I gave you. It's been one hell of a ride and I promise you, it's me, not you. Please don't. I'm moving on)
Contact: Ice Cream. Cookies and Cream Naturally
Contact: Anything with chocolate
Me: On it!
I hang up the phone and slide onto Woodlands Pkwy from Kuykendahl... I had just gone home to change clothes after work... What did I put on? Glad you asked. Let me preface quickly. I have this guy I know that can rock any outfit in my opinion. Well one day I saw the guy jammin some camo cargo shorts and a blue long sleeve button down... So what did I do? I got some foolish idea that I could pull it off. (I've literally been planning on wearing this outfit since I saw my friend sport it and I wanted a public audience b/c honestly I thought I'd be breathtaking) So I throw on the camo shorts and the blue button down. I roll up the sleeves naturally b/c that's just the rule. I put my flippy flops on to complete the ensemble. I'm thinking I'm the shiz. I get to Walmart. Grab the Ice Cream. I notice people looking more than they normally would. “OH GREEEAT!” I knew instantly what it was.... The outfit. YIKES!!!
So I pull out of the store and I know exactly where I am. I grew up just 4 miles to the left. I used to run these streets in high school. That's right. Me... and my letter jacket... with all those Choir patches and bible verses to show everyone I'm a Christian. Ran the streets I tell ya.
I also know exactly where my destination is. So I take a right and I'm trying to hurry b/c they've just ordered the Chinese food for dinner and I got the healthiest thing anyone can get when it comes to Chinese delivery... Crab Puffs... A whole mess of em'.
As I travel down the road I suddenly realize I'm going the wrong way. I'm SUCH and idiot I think. I know exactly where I am and I should have taken a left and not a right.
“How did I make such a silly mistake?” I asked aloud. “Because you weren't coming from home.” I answered, again, out loud. When I was growing up, I had this thing with directions. I could get anywhere as long as I left from home. It was a solid place and I knew where I was going if I left from home. If I left to go somewhere from another starting point I would need written directions in front of me. And every time I’ve ever been lost in my life there has seldom been few places I long for more than home.
There is something about going home that calms fear, gives rest when I'm weary and I find that it's a place to start over when I've gone too far off the path. It's a place where I can leave the past behind. It's a given that I'm accepted there and loved there. It's the calm place when life's crazy storms and disasters strike I can find shelter @ home where people love me and want me to succeed.
There are so many times in my life where I am in familiar territory and I think I know where I'm going so I take the right when I should have turned left and I just keep driving the wrong direction. I mean, I know where I'm at right? I grew up here. I'm a pro. I got this. When the reality is had I just remembered where I had come from I would not have made such a foolish choice.
I have made many foolish choices in my life because I have too often forgotten where I come from. I let my upbringing and my faith be overtaken by selfish desires. For those who know me it's not a surprise but for those who don't it's probably not that much of a stretch for you to know I've been sober 1 year 8 months. On my journey (you know, that journey that comes once in a lifetime... That one that changes your life forever) of drug addiction I left a wake of disaster including broken hearts, shattered friendships, debt, broken trust and bad credit. I took that right instead of that left... I thought “Oh yeah I got this.” “I'm in control.” “I deserve this.” Insert whatever justification you want right here. So I got help and spent some time in a rehab. That place was no joke there. It's no ordinary rehab... If a Superman were a crack head this rehab would be his Kryptonite. (Yes I get that Kryptonite to the real Superman was a BAD thing and rehab to a drug addict is a good thing but just go with it. If I get any nerd mail about Kent, Superman or Krypton I’m going to go Batman on somebody.)
All of that destruction. All of that grace, love and mercy that was needed and given me by loved ones and my God. All because I forgot where I came from. I didn't leave from home so naturally I got lost. I can't help but think of the prodigal. Even he knew this simple truth when he had lost everything. When on his journey he left a wake of destruction broken hearts, debt, shattered trust... He knew what he had to do. He had to start over. He had to start from home.
I find that sometimes the only way I can seem to remember where I come from is to humble myself and go back there. When I’m lost, there’s no better place than being home.
BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!!!
I didn't get to finish my story. We were talking about me being in Wal-Mart and people were taking extra notice of me and I had come to the realization that my outfit was not working for me even though it was clearly working for my friend.
So I get to my destination and walk in. I'm there for a few minutes and my friend’s wife, whom I'm also good friends with says... “I like what you got going on there...”
My shoulders drop and I throw my head up in exasperation. It was one of those awkward moments where you know your outfit is awful and you have that one really encouraging person in the room that will go out of their way to make sure you don't feel awkward about the clothes your wearing...
So because of that episode I have now coined the phrase “Rockin the Burcaw” – defined below.
Just as I'm about to be crushed under the weight of Rockin the Burcaw I realize that there are crab puffs that demand my attention.
And all was right with the world.
Rockin the Burcaw – when you've decided that you saw someone wearing something so totally awesome and epic and you are under the impression anyone could pull off the same thing when in reality only a small percentage of the population can pull such an outfit off.
Josh Burcaw, my friend, is in that small percentage.
Rockin the Burcaw includes but is not limited to Camo Cargo shorts and/or a blue button-down long sleeve shirt.
Jane Do: “What in the world are you doing wearing those camo shorts and blue button down with the sleeves rolled up?”
John Smith: “I'm Rockin the Burcaw!”
 You'll notice I've referenced the Focus before. I call it the Shaking Machine or Massage Chair b/c that's what you get when you drive it.... A massage. Oh yeah... That's right... I paid extra for feature. Not everyone has that ya know....