On this, the 30th anniversary of the day my mother expelled me from her uterus, I would like to stray from my usual blog stylings and instead take some time to jump into the time machine that 7-year old Jeff knew would exist in 2011 and hand deliver some postcards of advice to myself through the years. We'll start where it all started...
Dear newborn baby Jeff:
Goo-goo-ga-ga! Just kidding. We all know that you have a highly developed brain for an infant and can secretly already read. Don't tip your hand just yet. You don't want to get put into a special school. By the way, do you realize how close you were to being Austin Trevor?! I know you don't understand this reference just yet, but I'm pretty sure I would be handing you this letter in Wranglers and boots instead of this kickin' cardigan had our dad not wanted a name that was easier to spell. You know, like Jeff Lee Pool. Anyway, welcome to the rat race! Don't worry, there aren't literally rodents running marathons covering the world. Instead it is filled with overweight humans doing almost everything but running. Sorry to break it to you, but you'll someday become one. In your lifetime you'll see spaceships blow up, walls fall down, two George Bush's try to take down Saddam, the birth of the Internet, the death of VCR and LaserDisc, two towers fall from the sky, and something called Lady GaGa. And that's all in the first 30 years! I also thought I'd give you a heads up that you hit the parent lottery. They are young now and might take a couple of years to pull it together, but you will never go without and never be unhappy (except for when you choose to be, which is too heavy of a concept for baby Jeff). Be prepared for a lifetime of unconditional love, partly because you're amazing and adorable and kind of sort of look like one of them, but mostly because they really are just that fond of you. They'll always be there with a bottle when you're hungry, a hug when you're sad, a ride to all of your crazy activities (and trust me, there are a lot), some money when you can't afford to put gas in your car, another hug when you're happy, the opportunity to experience the best life has to offer (even when it means they have to go without), the best learning opportunities around, and another hug just because we're a huggy type of family. Besides having the best parents around, you also hit the grandparent and aunt/uncle jackpot. These people seem a little crazy now and in thirty years will seem even a little crazier, but they are your foundation and the reason you are who you are. Enjoy the next five years when you'll have everyone's undivided attention because being cute eventually wears off and you're going to have to start earning that positive attention.
Keep rockin',
Jeff@30
Dear Jeff at 5,
Hey buddy! Congrats on living through such harrowing events as being poisoned after swallowing spit out chewing tobacco, nearly drowning under a teenager's floatie on the Missouri River, and falling from the top of a 15-foot slide. On this, your fifth birthday, none of that really seems to phase you as you're dealing with the biggest challenge life has handed you thus far: your new baby sister! I know you're used to the spotlight, but don't worry, she's not that bad. If fact, before it is all said and done she'll end up being your best friend. Plus, she makes for a pretty cool show and tell in kindergarten. If you find yourself not liking her, just read Mercer Mayers' "The New Baby" again. She's going to follow you everywhere you go, constantly be in your stuff, always want whatever you have, and do her best to cause you constant frustration. In exchange for that, you'll be blessed with a bobsled partner who will gladly put on the ice cream bucket helmet on her head and steer the red wagon bobsled down the driveway, a fellow Olympian who will run the rain spout hurdles and grade your jungle gym high-bar routines, a wrestling/boxing/American Gladiator tackling dummy who will let you and your friends beat the living hell out of her just so she can spend more time with you, and a giggle box who will be the only other person in the world who will laugh as hard as you do at stupid movies like Dirty Work and Step Brothers. Speaking of all those things, keep up the good work on the imagination front. I'm still convinced that any and all academic success that you encounter through the rest of your life is because you thought grandma's carpet was made out of lava and that the swings were jet fighters. You see the extraordinary in the ordinary, and I'm jealous of you for that. Still, you should be proud to know that I still have all the Masters of the Universe and GI Joe figures you're playing with right now and that, even at 30, I could easily bust them out and be entertained for hours. Also, high five ourselves because we own all the Garfield and Fraggle Rock episodes on DVD (DVD is like the new VCR, only way cooler (but not as cool as BluRay, which I don't have time to explain to a 5-year old)). So, keep doing what you're doing, love your sister even when she's a brat, and stop pretending that imaginary lines will ever separate the backseat. Just keep your hands on your own side and save yourself some ass-chewings.
Keep pretending,
Jeff@30
Dear Jeff at 13,
Boy, aren't you an awkward fella? I'm sorry, but in hindsight there was no way that I could have known that an overweight teenager with a bad haircut shouldn't have become the band major and carried a whistle and baton. In 2011, that becomes really cool and that yearbook photo will be something you look back on with pride, not complete embarrassment. Look, right now is a tough time in which some of our deepest insecurities are being born. You're afraid of girls and rejection, you're ashamed of being a smart kid, you hate your body, and you want to quit band, even though you're talented, because it just isn't the cool thing to do. If you do nothing else in your pubescent insanity, please...DON'T QUIT BAND! On the last day of 8th grade, one of the bigger kids is going to want to kick your ass because you're a "pussy" and the band teacher, Mrs. Alberty, is going to sneak you out the back door and give you a ride back to your house so that you can avoid getting beat up. You can quit band next year. Also, even though you are scared out of your mind to enter high school, be ready for an absolutely amazing time. Somehow you manage to flip a lot of things that you consider to be negatives into positives. You'll finally get that growth spurt you've been hearing so much about and that 180 lbs won't look as goofy on your new 5'11" frame as it did on your 4'11" one. Your face is going to start breaking out, but we eventually grow a pretty cool beard to cover all that up. With that said, don't try to get all Tom Selleck (that's a relevant reference, right?) and start to try growing something now. The beard needs another 15 or so years to fully come in right. Also, I know this isn't the best time to bring up stuff, but you don't become a doctor or a lawyer (or at least not by 30). You've got a lot on your plate as it is, so I don't want to burden you with anything else. Just know that this isn't a bad thing and that I'll explain it in a couple of years. Anyway, hang in there and when Mrs. Guse's husband approaches you in high school and makes you try out for basketball, do it. It changes your whole life.
It gets better,
Jeff@30
PS - Stop spending so much money on pogs, troll dolls, slap bracelets, wacky wall climbers, and sports cards. It is useless shit that I'm getting really tired of moving around. I know it seems like a good investment in 1994, but that OJ Simpson Pog Slammer lost value quickly and didn't end up paying for college. Neither did your 10,000 sports cards, which humans now use as toilet paper in 2011.
Dear Jeff at 18,
I've got to admit, you've put together a nice little life for yourself. Student class president, student of the year 4 years running, newspaper editor, 32 ACT, Y-Ball Champion, Horatio Alger scholar, actor of the year three years running, smokin' hot girlfriend. I'm not ashamed to brag a little for you. Life has come pretty easily for you and there's absolutely no reason to think it will end anytime soon, right? Hell, you job shadowed a US Congressman! You're on the path to glory. Except for the fact that you're not. In your bravado, you said as your senior quote, "West Central may not have given me the best book education, but I definitely feel prepared for life." Twelve years later that's something I'm incredibly ashamed for having said. The reason you are who you are isn't because you were born with natural gifts. It was because someone saw something in you and not once in your 18 years were you denied an opportunity to build on that. Your teachers pushed you to be better, your coaches demanded the best from you, and your parents expected you to reach your potential. Without any of those other people in your life, you're a complete slacker who is content working at a movie theater the rest of his life. Trust me, in a few years you'll start ignoring your support and get to see first hand what the bottom feels like. I don't want to put a damper on your experiences right now. You really have done some great things, and I want you to enjoy every one of them. Just know that they aren't the end of your journey, nor are they the peak. Your first love doesn't last forever, but your other friendships have. You don't become a politician or lawyer or a famous journalist, but you'll discover something even more amazing and fulfilling in higher education. You won't be married and have kids by the time you're 30, but you will have milked every second of enjoyment out of being single in your 20's and come out on the other end without any addictions or diseases. You won't live in Sioux Falls and get to see your buddies every day like you swore you would, but you find much needed independence chasing the dream in the big city. I guess my point is this: nothing goes as planned, so stop trying to control everything. Roll with the punches, keep living life to the fullest, and humble yourself a little before life decides to do it for you.
Chase the dream but keep your feet on the ground,
Jeff@30
Dear Jeff at 22,
I wish you would have existed in the same world that Jeff at 18 did because you would have read my letter to him and avoided a lot of your problems. Instead, we need to face the reality: You have some problems. The biggest problem is that you're an alcoholic. I'm not sure if you remember that when you came to college, you did so on a nice scholarship that took care of almost everything. Just a few short years and a few tall beers later and you've got so much student loan and credit card debt that you've made life at 30 very difficult. Just because Frank Lloyd Wright said, "Give me the luxuries of life and I will willingly do without the necessities," it doesn't mean that it is a religion you should be living by and that you should substitute fruits and vegetables for Peach Schnapps and Bloody Mary's. The guy wrote about flying monkeys, for Pete's sake. Hey, I know you're afraid to leave your new support system with all of your great new friends, but that's what growing up is all about. Trust me, they all do it and have turned out fine. And guess what? Just like you're high school friends, you're still as close with them and their families. Just so you know, you piss around with not getting yourself in a good mental situation and end up not graduating on time. You'll walk across the stage with all of your friends and smile for all the pictures, but it takes you a few more years and a lot of stress before you finally get your name inked on that diploma. Look, Jennifer isn't coming back. You've completely missed dating through college and become a depressed lunatic because of it. Seriously, take out a pen and keep a running journal on your day. Here, I'll help you. "Woke up at noon. Made frozen pizza. Played Madden. Nick and Jared came home from class, played Madden. Went to Hardee's for a Monster Burger and decided to stop at Subway on the way home for a foot long. Decided that wasn't enough and went to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Came home. Played Madden. Called in sick to work. Drank a bottle of vodka and a 12-pack of beer. Played Madden. Passed out at 3:30 am." Really impressive! Both 18 year old and 30 year old Jeff want to kick you sooooo hard. Still, I know you had to hit bottom to finally get that wake up call. You're going to stumble through the next two or three years, but you'll always remember the darkness of those days and work hard to make sure they never happen again. You'll finish your degree and start on your Master's. You'll get a good job that is patient as you finish your degree and that let's you realize how great working in higher education is. You'll eventually get a second job a year later that is even better than the first, and while I'm reluctant to tell you where that job is located, know that living in the middle of nowhere is exactly what you need to get your life on track. People there love you and you will love them, and the lack of temptations will finally make you grow up and realize your potential. In the meantime, be better to yourself, get help, and enjoy your time with your college buddies because you'll always wish that you remembered more of it.
Straighten up,
Jeff@30
Dear Jeff at 27,
You survived the bulk of your 20's, you love your job, you're taking grad classes, and you're even dating a little. You're banking cash by living on campus and setting yourself up for the future. I'm pretty proud of you, and I'm happy to report that 27 is going to be a really great year for you. My only advice to you is to let go a little. I know you're so afraid of turning back into Jeff at 22, but you aren't that guy anymore. Feel free to consider leaving the safety net of isolation that you've created for yourself. Start to consider a move, start thinking about getting healthier, start considering letting yourself fall in love again. In relation to that last one, know that you're about to meet a girl named Jenna (actually, I think you probably already have). I'm not going to give away all the details, but over the course of the next two years I want you to promise to not give up on her and that you will eventually love her with all of your heart. You're going to be scared shitless because the last time you allowed yourself to be this open with someone it scarred you for almost a decade, but throw that fear away with her and give her everything you have. If you're willing to do that, you will learn the most important life lesson you've experienced up to that point and find out about strength inside of you and love surrounding you that you started to take for granted. Through another heartbreak you'll rediscover the unconditional love of newborn Jeff (it is amazing and overwhelming), the rose-colored imagination of 5 year old Jeff (hey, you start a blog as a creative outlet!), the horrible insecurities of 13 year old Jeff (you start trying to lose weight because you think improving the outside might help the inside), the amazing self-confidence of 18 year old Jeff (you focus on the good and push out the bad so well), the ability to rebound of 22 year old Jeff (you spend a single day lying in bed, you only drink away the pain twice and never alone, and you even start dating again in June), and somehow manage to come out of the experience better than when you went in. SPOILER ALERT: You do find love again and it is the kind that you always hoped for. Regardless of how it turns out, your luck at the table of life keeps rolling in.
Have fun,
Jeff@30
Dear Jeff@30,
We made it! I want Jeff at 40 to be able to look back at this letter and nod approvingly because he'll know that maybe, just maybe we've finally got it right. The collective Jeffs have made a lot of mistakes, some of which we're still paying for, but there isn't a single thing that has happened that I would do differently because that may have meant that I wasn't where I am right now. I love my job, I love my friends, I love the city, and I love Molly. I don't love that I'm still paying for that shot of Jager that 22 year old Jeff took back in 2003 (both financially and physically), but the guy is hard enough on himself without me piling on. Anyway, don't be afraid of those strange five inch hairs that keep popping up out of your ears overnight, don't try to hide the silvers that stick straight out from your rapidly decreasing black fluffy fro, and for the love of God, eat some more carrots and apples and drink a few more glasses of water so that you don't feel so much like Jeff at 50 when you try to get out of bed in the morning. Also, you're already a little curmudgeonly, so let's try to keep it closer to the adorable kind, like in Grumpy Old Men, rather than the kind nobody likes, like Andy Rooney (may he rest in peace and continue to bitch about new fangled things like zippers and stop lights in the sweet hereafter). Other than that, I'm not going to give you any more advice or announce any more goals because the joy in the first 30 has been in watching plans crumble and new opportunities pop up. You say "I love you" to at least five different people a day, but the hardest person to acknowledge is often yourself. I love you, and I'm proud of where you are at 30. Here's hoping that the next 30 are just as amazing.
Jeff
PS- I was serious about those carrots.
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