So this past Sunday I'm sitting at home enjoying what had been a remarkably relaxing weekend. The weather was cold and football was on TV so I was content. Suddenly my BlackBerry goes off.
Colleen McDonald is blowing up my phone with calls and texts. By the time I can get to my phone, she has typed an invitation / command: 'Come on a roadtrip with me. It's in the SoCal region. You won't be sorry.'
Now, as much as I love enjoying some Adventures Being Alex, I am unabashedly a creature of habit. I like routine. I like structure.
But sometimes you just gotta say f--- it and accept an opportunity for spontaneity. Three nights earlier, at our company Christmas party, I turned down the chance to jump in on a dance contest because I didn't think I had enough moves to really be entertaining or have a shot at winning. I felt it was the right decision but I still partially regretted it.
This time I said yes and within 20 minutes I was piling into Colleen's car. I threw out some guesses, none of which she would confirm or deny: Legoland? Disneyland's Main Street Electrical Parade? A basketball game played by UCLA or - gasp! - USC?
Two hours later we're in L.A., thereby negating any guesses south of Culver City, and traffic is so crazy we see one guy cut off another, scratch the car he passed up, and engage in a road-rage chase. It was insane.
Quite suddenly I realize we're in downtown...near Staples Center...where a concert is being held that night...OH MY GOSH, JAY-Z AND KANYE??? ARE WE GOING TO THE JAY-Z AND KANYE CONCERT?!? Colleen said yes and I shrieked, literally shrieked.
It was one of the happiest, most unbelievable moments of my life.
We parked, saw a couple argue until they split up - why all the drama in L.A.? - and then went to the nearby Yardhouse, where good friends Jonathan and Jonas awaited with "Watch the Throne" tickets. I couldn't believe it.
We all went inside the arena and Jono, who works for AEG's sales dept., had us strategically placed near a walkway. That allowed him to high-five freakin' Jay-Z and Kanye as they came out. And it provided good vantage points to watch entering celebs like Pharrell, Jermaine Dupri, and John Salley (who sat and cheered just like when he was a Laker).
The show was ridiculous. Best hip-hop concert I've ever witnessed.
The atmosphere was electric. The drive back was long and I couldn't fight my sleepiness. The next day was a grind. But it was all so worth it, three hours sleep was so worth it.
It was one of the best surprises of my entire life.
Showing posts with label Los Angeles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Los Angeles. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
You Gotta Have Heart. Or "Corazón".
Today was one of my best days in a long time. It started with my friend Heather Laird, a.k.a. "Smiles", - I'll explain - picking me up at 6am at my house. Months ago she had asked if I could deliver an A-MOtivational Presentation to the counselors of a camp for which she volunteered. It's an early day, she had said, but you can sleep on our way up.
If there's one thing I can do well, it's sleep. So after a slumber that made me completely miss Orange County, I awoke as we entered the exciting and ennervating city of Los Angeles. I love L.A.'s energy. It's never lacking and it's always awesome to see the Capitol Records building and Studio City and the skyscrapers of downtown. We arrived in North Hollywood and I chuckled that our day-long training would be at the Masonic Temple because the Masons basically created the Shriners - the organization that flew me to this country when I was 2 and provided me free prosthetics at their hospitals in San Francisco and L.A. from age 4 - 21. Hooray for (North) Hollywood!
I was prepared, as we climbed the concrete stairs into the Temple, to fire up these counselors of Camp Corazón. I was ready to hit them with the emotional punches befitting of a camp for kids with heart defects. What I wasn't prepared for was that every counselor greeted me with a hug. Whoooaaa, buddy! Or that a camp rule was that you go by a nickname of your own choosing so suddenly I was receiving these embraces from adults named Gumby, Apple, and Shrek. True story.
Whereas I was ready to motivate them, they motivated me. It was Rotary's Camp RYLA and Notre Dame first day of fall classes all in one. Everyone hugging each other, telling jokes, talking smack, and performing skits. I saw that a main crux of this camp, and this orientation-like atmosphere, was to let kids who had always been told 'no' that this camp would be their first chance of hearing 'yes'.
I grabbed a pen and revised my notecard because I had experiences with both: as described in my first book, friends who said YES let's try the Monkey Bars, and the Camp Anytown director who said NO you shouldn't be here because you might get hurt.
After about two and a half hours it was finally my turn to rock the mike.
I started by explaining that I wanted my nickname to be The Situation. But after lifting my shirt and reviewing my abs, or lack thereof, I saw that I was short, stocky, and yet powerful. Hence my official camp name, one given to me in college: Sparkplug.
I explained about my disability and how my arms worked but spoke slowly because some of the doctors were from USC. (The UCLA grads looooved that one.)
I talked about my camp experiences and how summer camps, especially for those with physical challenges, can be life-defining. How sometimes we provide hope just by our actions. I recounted how the first marathon relay I did with Team MADness motivated a lady who was running for her deceased father and was ready to quit - but didn't.
You can make a difference, I told the 100 or so mostly young adult volunteers. Because you ARE the difference.
They received it real well and I felt the love. I made many friends afterwards, from someone who is helping actors in the Little People community gain jobs, to a guy that wants to teach me Wall climbing, to young ladies who showed me the scars from their heart surgeries.
It was from the latter that I think I learned the most. I know I have my challenges and have endured my share of "pain". But present in that Masonic Temple (just a space, by the way, this camp isn't affiliated with the Masons) were counselors who had survived heart defects and surgeries as kids. Many of them hadn't enjoyed the activities of youth because other kids had teased them about their scars. Or they were afraid to overexert themselves. Can you imagine being 7 or 10 or 12 and not being able to run and jump and have fun?
This camp, held on Catalina Island, had allowed them that freedom and now they were providing it for other youths aged 7 - 17. Incredibly, some of them were still going back for heart treatments. Now that's courage.
I stuck around and had a marvelous day. And not just because for the second straight afternoon I had In 'n' Out for lunch. #Winning!!
I met incredible people nobly living and assisting an incredible cause.
We left L.A. before the late August sun had dipped into the Pacific and I did what I do best, sleep in the car. Smiles drove and chatted with her backseat buddy - "Kitty" - and I awoke to my cell phone blowing up with texts. Colleen McD, Larimer, and Ana Maria were all at the Padres game and apparently we were beating down Florida 14-1. I had felt guilty about taking a night off of work but my boss Sue had told me this was a great opportunity and to enjoy it.
She was right. Tomorrow we'll honor Trevor Hoffman, himself a survivor of a kidney transplant, who'll someday be in the Hall of Fame. You can never take anything for granted or minimize the impact it may have when kids get a second chance. Sometimes the one most impacted is you.
If there's one thing I can do well, it's sleep. So after a slumber that made me completely miss Orange County, I awoke as we entered the exciting and ennervating city of Los Angeles. I love L.A.'s energy. It's never lacking and it's always awesome to see the Capitol Records building and Studio City and the skyscrapers of downtown. We arrived in North Hollywood and I chuckled that our day-long training would be at the Masonic Temple because the Masons basically created the Shriners - the organization that flew me to this country when I was 2 and provided me free prosthetics at their hospitals in San Francisco and L.A. from age 4 - 21. Hooray for (North) Hollywood!
I was prepared, as we climbed the concrete stairs into the Temple, to fire up these counselors of Camp Corazón. I was ready to hit them with the emotional punches befitting of a camp for kids with heart defects. What I wasn't prepared for was that every counselor greeted me with a hug. Whoooaaa, buddy! Or that a camp rule was that you go by a nickname of your own choosing so suddenly I was receiving these embraces from adults named Gumby, Apple, and Shrek. True story.
Whereas I was ready to motivate them, they motivated me. It was Rotary's Camp RYLA and Notre Dame first day of fall classes all in one. Everyone hugging each other, telling jokes, talking smack, and performing skits. I saw that a main crux of this camp, and this orientation-like atmosphere, was to let kids who had always been told 'no' that this camp would be their first chance of hearing 'yes'.
I grabbed a pen and revised my notecard because I had experiences with both: as described in my first book, friends who said YES let's try the Monkey Bars, and the Camp Anytown director who said NO you shouldn't be here because you might get hurt.
After about two and a half hours it was finally my turn to rock the mike.
I started by explaining that I wanted my nickname to be The Situation. But after lifting my shirt and reviewing my abs, or lack thereof, I saw that I was short, stocky, and yet powerful. Hence my official camp name, one given to me in college: Sparkplug.
I explained about my disability and how my arms worked but spoke slowly because some of the doctors were from USC. (The UCLA grads looooved that one.)
I talked about my camp experiences and how summer camps, especially for those with physical challenges, can be life-defining. How sometimes we provide hope just by our actions. I recounted how the first marathon relay I did with Team MADness motivated a lady who was running for her deceased father and was ready to quit - but didn't.
You can make a difference, I told the 100 or so mostly young adult volunteers. Because you ARE the difference.
They received it real well and I felt the love. I made many friends afterwards, from someone who is helping actors in the Little People community gain jobs, to a guy that wants to teach me Wall climbing, to young ladies who showed me the scars from their heart surgeries.
It was from the latter that I think I learned the most. I know I have my challenges and have endured my share of "pain". But present in that Masonic Temple (just a space, by the way, this camp isn't affiliated with the Masons) were counselors who had survived heart defects and surgeries as kids. Many of them hadn't enjoyed the activities of youth because other kids had teased them about their scars. Or they were afraid to overexert themselves. Can you imagine being 7 or 10 or 12 and not being able to run and jump and have fun?
This camp, held on Catalina Island, had allowed them that freedom and now they were providing it for other youths aged 7 - 17. Incredibly, some of them were still going back for heart treatments. Now that's courage.
I stuck around and had a marvelous day. And not just because for the second straight afternoon I had In 'n' Out for lunch. #Winning!!
I met incredible people nobly living and assisting an incredible cause.
We left L.A. before the late August sun had dipped into the Pacific and I did what I do best, sleep in the car. Smiles drove and chatted with her backseat buddy - "Kitty" - and I awoke to my cell phone blowing up with texts. Colleen McD, Larimer, and Ana Maria were all at the Padres game and apparently we were beating down Florida 14-1. I had felt guilty about taking a night off of work but my boss Sue had told me this was a great opportunity and to enjoy it.
She was right. Tomorrow we'll honor Trevor Hoffman, himself a survivor of a kidney transplant, who'll someday be in the Hall of Fame. You can never take anything for granted or minimize the impact it may have when kids get a second chance. Sometimes the one most impacted is you.
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