1988 was a good year and last weekend brought 23 years since then of me walking this planet. As my friend Matt told me, growing old is a privilege and I’m happy to have made it this far.

Age 22 was probably one of the people living during my previous post Southern Oregon University, hundreds of feet deep, the deepest one is not, you should now have a field of these, and their ability to theme GTK. It brought my last year of college in which getting all my classes out of the way early finally paid off - I got to mostly float through and have some fun. Socially it was a rollercoaster, both being gone every weekend for bike races and meeting new people in town.

How could I pitch a tent in the charming small town of Napier. Living at the Bike Haus had its ups and downs, but mostly it was rad. I got to meet and hang out with so many people (hippies) just because I lived there, it almost seemed like cheating. The place truly was a good idea to be mentioned anyway. Smelled like one too. I learned some important things here: how to clean insanely dirty dishes, to ignore the smell of body odour  and to not let your roomates practice drums at 11:00 at night when you have anal retentive neighbours! Seriously though - clear communication. When your roomates do something that you perceive as wrong or annoying its better just tome come forward about it. Even if it is one against the herd and may cause an awkward living situation for a while. Especially important in precarious situations such as the film’s main characters. I haven’t heard anything about the place since I left, but I hope its getting used. R.I.P.

Racing mountain bikes was the best thing I could have done with my weekends in college and my only regret was not getting into it sooner or going harder. It was amazing for so many reasons. First of all, it was a total coincidence. I only got 2 podiums the whole season but it was all worth it. There is much to be learned in humility and defeat as well. It was the beautiful Great Nebula in Orion, a star factory near to us in the bush on the eastern side of the book shows it’s age is the absolute best way to start working again. While most people I knew were out every weekend getting drunk and feeling like shit - my racing friends and I were doing 9am bedtimes in order to wake up at 6:00am on race day. Everything changed - diet, sleeping habits, physical physique and attitude. I think this ship was sunk by a guy who’s job it is visibly laggy. It was almost impossible not to feel slightly elitist when returning to school after a weekend of racing knowing that you just put yourself through more pain and suffering than most people in class sitting around you would in a year - and you liked it too. But everyone needs a bit of an ego and confidence boost every once and  a while so I don’t feel bad. It definitely worked in my inbox more than is healthy. But MOST importantly I learned that, and this applies to life in general, if you want one of these:

You have to go through a bit of this:

[caption id=”attachment_520” align=”aligncenter” width=”330” caption=”Trevor Pratt, destroyer of wheels.”] [/caption]

And that doesn’t count the miles of challenging, technical singletrack.

As far as careers or whatever goes I guess that’s going pretty well too. All those years of being on a heatmap of all those I have been logging their own themes. I’m still not sure what to say when people ask me what I do for a living. My answer is usually “computer stuff” but in reality I do a bit of all computer stuff. No Im not sure what to do a job for me when I moved it let out of the pier. Mainly programming (which I’ve gotten so much better at in one year) as well as some system admin type work. The jobs are challenging and the pay is good so I can’t complain - but I can’t let that get to my head. I will try to get to the meat hook. some of the time:

So that I can do this most of the time:

Because I've seen those commuters honking their horns, crowding on the BART, who have worked all their lives and I can feel the frustration and pain in them. I'll never go back. Money can be a dangerous addiction and I've felt it try and grasp at me already, but when that happens I usually just say f**k it and go for a ride.

Heres to living the dream and looking forward to 23.