While on the road for business, I’m routinely overwhelmed with emotion.  Especially when I’m on a plane to some location thousands of miles from my family.  It usually happens when I pick a movie on the inflight entertainment system during the flight.  My flights are long and lonely and are the perfect set up for being emotional.  I usually pick something thought provoking and deep which I wouldn’t pick while at home.  This isn’t because I’m some sort of shallow cesspool at home, it’s just that I have two kids, two dogs, a wife, and an unrelenting schedule that limits my amount of focus time.

That all changes on a plane to nowhere.

This last trip, which I’m still currently on, is no different.  Whether it was the movie or the music I was listening to, I have been intently focused on my core.

It spilled over during breakfast this morning.  Sitting on the 14^th floor of a very westernized hotel in the middle of the sand box known as Dubai, I was struck.  It was a post on Facebook.  Anyone who knows me well knows that I detest Facebook and its ability for you to spy on me and others to whine about their existence.  But this time was different.  A dude I went to high school with posted a picture broadcasting a new campaign Powerade was running.  And while this doesn’t sound like the stuff to make me tip over emotionally, here me out.

I’ve known this dude a long time.  We went to elementary school, junior high school, and high school together.  We are from the same town and similar backgrounds.  I used to spend the night at his house tons when we were kids.  So when he posted something about our hometown, I knew it was legit.  The campaign from Powerade is called ‘Just a Kid.’  The concept is this; we’re all from somewhere.  And that ‘somewhere’ is important.  As trivial as it seems, it’s a thread in the fabric of our existence.  The campaign highlights that each one of us, popular or unpopular, famous or infamous, big or small, successful or unsuccessful, is from somewhere.  That somewhere matters.

So that made me incredibly introspective.  Every time I land in Seattle after coming back from a trip I listen two specific things; the first is anything from the northwest, usually Alice in Chains but even something like Macklemore is acceptable.  The second is Bon Jovi “Who Says You Can’t Go Home.”  I know, he ain’t from my town.  It reminds me to be grounded and not be afraid to represent where I’m from.  It’s part of me.  As a kid, I swore I’d move out of the God-forsaken town I grew up in.  I didn’t want to be there.  I felt I was bigger.  I felt I was better.  I judged people who stayed and thought they “couldn’t make it.”  Looking back on my misperception, I couldn’t be more wrong about it all.

I have the years of perspective now to call on.  Retrospect helps a ton.

After high school, I moved away to college.  After college, I got a job away from home at a large aerospace company north of Seattle.  I entered some unhealthy personal relationships during those years.  I left that company and moved to Southern California.  I made a big mark in the automotive aftermarket industry.  I helped create a paradigm-shifting trend in automotive aftermarket products.  I began to hate the job for what I concluded was ‘killing my soul.’  After yelling at the president of the company in an 'All Hands' meeting, I decided I should go.  Now to be fair, my brother had just died and my mother-in-law was terminally ill.  I might’ve had a few things on my plate.  I left that company and moved back to Washington with a pregnant wife.  I took a job at the same aerospace company I had left seven years earlier but in a different city.  I needed the healthcare benefits.  Colleagues from my last job in L.A. convinced me to launch my own business.  I had an industry reputation they felt would contribute to a successful entrepreneurial venture.  They were right.  But I got bored and burned out.  Staying with the aerospace giant took energy and effort.  Even more now as I try to not go crazy under the duress of piss poor planning and politics.  Now I’m on what leadership calls ‘the list.’  Apparently, that is a good thing.  Even though I don’t care about their lists.

Where I’m going with all of this unintended boasting is this:  All of these decisions.  All of these choices.  All of these successes and failures.  All of the disappointments.  And all of the surprises.  They’ve all led me right back to within 2.5 miles of the house where I grew up.  That same town I swore I’d never go back to.  That same town I was ‘too good’ to be from.  That same town is one of the threads in the fabric of my existence.  I’m no longer ashamed to be from here.  As a matter of fact, I’ve settled in rather well.  I’m the punk rock dad in your suburban neighborhood that you are afraid to talk to.  I’m the neighbor your kids want to play with.  I’m the angry engineer that never will understand or accept big company lifestyle, allegiances, and politics.  I’m the dedicated husband and father that checks in on the phone every 12 hours when on business travel.  I’m the son of two parents who have always been my lighthouse when I couldn’t see through the fog.  I’m the apple that didn’t fall far from the proverbial tree (thanks Dad).  And I’m an unknown hero to a local elementary school.

I did pretty damn good for myself.  And MUCH of it has to do with where I’m from.  That gets wired into you.  That’s your coding.  I’ve done so much in 41 years but I have so much more to do.  The hunger never dies.  And that’s a part of where I’m from; hardworking, family-oriented, persevering type people.  Everything I learned from this town, I’m passing on to my kids.  There’s no reason to be ashamed of where we are from.   Thank you Powerade for throwing me off balance today.  I encourage you all to represent where you’re from.  We’re all from somewhere, we’ve all had to overcome obstacles and adversity.

I’m just a kid from Puyallup.  And I’ll never stop shaking shit up.

#justakid

#rosefromconcrete