Okay, so yesterday I rolled out "Putting the 'Wow' Back In SamWow, Part One" and well, quite frankly no one saw it, which is fine. I'm writing it for me so I can get my thoughts together, and if I can touch someone with what I write that's even better. However, I will say it is a bit different from my usual stuff like my posts about the mall, America's favorite Frenchman Herve Benoit, or my chilling expose on potty talk because those were built for speed and laughs.
These on the other hand, are built for longevity. I'm trying to devlop as a person and keep myself from doing something stupid, but enough random talking; let's get into it.
A week ago, I had an idea for something I jokingly called "Hugs Without Borders" and it's my millionth crazy scheme. Hopefully this one sticks.
So what is "Hugs Without Borders"? Well, it's not me flying all over the world like the great folks with Doctors Without Borders (Who you can donate to here.), even though I would totally do that if it was do-able.
It's driving out of your way to see a friend in need, even if they're too proud to admit it. It's smiling at a stranger and wishing them a good day as you step off the elevator. It's giving up your seat on a crowded bus so someone else can sit down. It's holding the door open for a mother and her children. It's calling your parents, or anyone really, to just chat. It's paying the toll for the car behind you. It's making that one dollar donation at the grocer's checkout to help find a cure for prostate cancer. It's dropping a few dollars extra on a tip. It's dancing like a fool to make a friend laugh. It's story telling to get someone's mind out of a dark place.
But at it's simplest core, it's a gesture, no matter how small, where you put yourself aside and make someones day, change a frown into a smile, and maybe get that person to do the same for someone else. Picture the movie "Pay It Forward", just without Kevin Spacey, Haley Joel Osment, Jon Bon Jovi, and Jay Mohr (And I think Helen Hunt was in it, but it might have been Meg Ryan, they're the same person in my book). That's what I'm going for here, it's not some earth shattering idea like the Chillow, it's something we all know about but don't act upon enough.
Some of you might laugh, and dismiss this as some stupid little scheme and I understand. I'm not going to argue with it, you can't please everyone and that's not why I'm here. I just want to bring so good into the world and spread it like butter.
I want to follow in the steps of Kid President, Randy Pausch, Zach Sobiech, or any of the millions of other people who's stories, actions, and lives have inspired the world.
That's all for now. Until next time.
____________________________________
Editor's Note // All those links at the bottom are things you really should watch if you want to get on board or just get inspired. Just as a disclaimer the Randy Pausch video is over an hour long but it's amazing. His bio is here if you want a quick hitter but nothing tops the video (Or the book, which made me cry like a baby and I would love to buy it for you if you want it...maybe.).
Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Putting the "Wow" Back In SamWow, Part One.
In the late spring of 2005, I was 15 and a rower on the crew team at DeMatha Catholic High School. We had a dreadful year, finished what felt like a record of 0-100 (With one second place finish) but we had some laughs and a decent time. Sorry, I'm getting off track so let's get back onnit.
It was the end of the season and we were all sitting in our "practice facility" which was really just an old Buick dealership/shop with all the equpiment laid out on top of the asbestos. We were shooting the shit (Yes, I said shit) and waiting for our respective turns for the end of year reviews with the coaches. We joked about what they would say, who might cry (Laputz was getting ragged on hard core), and what next year would be like when they called my name and I stood up to go into the garage.
In that short walk, everything I did wrong went through my head; the day I sat stroke, couldn't keep a steady pace and caught at least three crabs (rowing term, not the deliscous crustecean) and was probably my worst day on the water. I thought about all the loses we had, mostly the race at Georgetown where we raced our hearts out for a 3rd place finish and heard Coach yelling from the shore "Head up DeMatha!" and I remember getting really emotional. On our slow, painful row back to the dock, our "sister schools" rowed by us and congratulated us on the race but none of it helped.
So it was a pretty scary feeling walking into that garage and sitting down in front of the coaches and I was sure I'd be cut or not asked back (The team was actually too small to afford to cut anyone). I distinctly remember walking across to the seat they had for me and never looking up, I was staring daggers into my sweet New Balance 574s.
Well I sat down and we started the review, I don't remember all that was said, but it was probably a lot of "Well you did good here. Improve here. What can we do different here. How'd this feel. What about next year." and then they shook my hand and I stood to leave. That's when my coach, Jim Case, said something to me that still hits me to this day (Pardon my French his French).
"There's just one problem, Carroll. You always got that giant head down; keep your fucking head up. You're a DeMatha Stag. You're a big strong kid with a lot ahead of you. If I see you with your head down I'm gonna call you out."
I walked out of there with my head up, but it probably sagged back down as soon as I got back into the main room. Well hell, I promise you it did. My head went down that day and has stayed down since that day for the most part, but that's all gonna change.
I've been beating (eating?) around the bush for too long on this whole thing and now that's done. I'm going to write more about what's going on, what I'm trying to fix, and more as time goes on, just wanted to kick it off and remind everyone to keep ya chins up.
_______________________________
Editors Note // The posts in this series might come off as somewhat of a bummer, but that's the nature of the beast. I want to inspire and tell a story and to do that you need to make yourself and others feel. I hope you enjoy -- Sam
It was the end of the season and we were all sitting in our "practice facility" which was really just an old Buick dealership/shop with all the equpiment laid out on top of the asbestos. We were shooting the shit (Yes, I said shit) and waiting for our respective turns for the end of year reviews with the coaches. We joked about what they would say, who might cry (Laputz was getting ragged on hard core), and what next year would be like when they called my name and I stood up to go into the garage.
In that short walk, everything I did wrong went through my head; the day I sat stroke, couldn't keep a steady pace and caught at least three crabs (rowing term, not the deliscous crustecean) and was probably my worst day on the water. I thought about all the loses we had, mostly the race at Georgetown where we raced our hearts out for a 3rd place finish and heard Coach yelling from the shore "Head up DeMatha!" and I remember getting really emotional. On our slow, painful row back to the dock, our "sister schools" rowed by us and congratulated us on the race but none of it helped.
So it was a pretty scary feeling walking into that garage and sitting down in front of the coaches and I was sure I'd be cut or not asked back (The team was actually too small to afford to cut anyone). I distinctly remember walking across to the seat they had for me and never looking up, I was staring daggers into my sweet New Balance 574s.
Well I sat down and we started the review, I don't remember all that was said, but it was probably a lot of "Well you did good here. Improve here. What can we do different here. How'd this feel. What about next year." and then they shook my hand and I stood to leave. That's when my coach, Jim Case, said something to me that still hits me to this day (Pardon
"There's just one problem, Carroll. You always got that giant head down; keep your fucking head up. You're a DeMatha Stag. You're a big strong kid with a lot ahead of you. If I see you with your head down I'm gonna call you out."
I walked out of there with my head up, but it probably sagged back down as soon as I got back into the main room. Well hell, I promise you it did. My head went down that day and has stayed down since that day for the most part, but that's all gonna change.
I've been beating (eating?) around the bush for too long on this whole thing and now that's done. I'm going to write more about what's going on, what I'm trying to fix, and more as time goes on, just wanted to kick it off and remind everyone to keep ya chins up.
_______________________________
Editors Note // The posts in this series might come off as somewhat of a bummer, but that's the nature of the beast. I want to inspire and tell a story and to do that you need to make yourself and others feel. I hope you enjoy -- Sam
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Billy-Bob the Caterpillar.
So as many of you know I love to write. On legal pads, notebooks, napkins, hands, or walls. In trains, cars, planes, bathrooms, beds, kitchens, and restaurants.
I like to write about beating the odds, I like writing about sports, a lot of sports. Hell, I even wrote a few songs, speeches, and the occasional random eulogy (They're not all about people I know, most of them are just random characters I come up with in my brain piece). I just love writing. Always have and hopefully I always will.
I dunno how this fascination started for me, I guess I know pretty quick that math and science weren't really my thing at all. I didn't like them but I did love history, english, and sports. And I've always bean a talker, so I guess writing was my way of talking when everyone around me wanted me to just shut the, uh, well, let's say they wanted me to shut the "front door".
Hopefully one day I'll get paid to do this, how awesome would that be? I've always wanted to write a column like what Rick Reilly writes for ESPN.com and the one he used to write for "Sports Illustrated". He would go behind the stories of the really big name athletes and instead write about the quarterback at some random D-III college in "YourTown, YourState". It would be more about the human element behind sport, not so much the star athlete, the giant contract, the asshole head coach, or the off field problems for a primadonna wide receiver. It was about the college football and basketball team driving off campus to pick up a school booster who had been in a wheelchair since he was seven. The human condition. Stories that made you laugh, cry, smile, and gave you chills.
So I wanted to share with you all something that I think only three people have seen in my lifetime. It's the first ever short story I wrote, or at least it's the first one that's recorded and will go down in history one day. It was literally written on the day that I turned ten, March 14th, 2000.
I didn't edit it at all, this is the straight uncut dope. Best of the best, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I still do. I almost died I laughed so hard when I re-discovered it.
And now, without further delay, "The Caterpillar Story" by SamWow Carroll...
"One day there was a caterpillar named Billy-Bob who lived in a dump. He thought he was very ugly. Finally, more caterpillars moved in. One day someone came and dumped it out.
So he went out into the world. He had to cross the ocean. So he made a boat of sticks an went off. But he got sucked up in a waterspout. He landed in Europe. There he made a cocoon.
He emerged a butterfly. He flew to the United States but he got took under by a tidal wave. He flew over a battlefield. He got his wings blown off."
The picture is backwards, I'm sure you all can deal with it. It's just proof that this epicness exists. Ignore the stupid "Dove Prayer".
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Guess Who's Back?
Oh hey there, I didn't see you over these piles of paperwork (non-existent paperwork, unless all my legal pads and copies of "Sports Illustrated" from last year count as paperwork) and the fact that "Words With Friends" and Wordfeud have taken over my life (for the record, in between both those games my record is like, 0-400). This is random.
So yeah, the blogging took a back seat, or maybe I treated it like "Home Alone" and I'm just getting back home on the truck with John Candy. Truth be told, I was kind of in a mindset to just put the blog in the ground and kill it (in that order, I like to make sure you'll fit in the grave before I get out the old tarp and shovel). But I'm not going too, this blog keeps me writing and keeps you guys smiling and keeps some people wondering "What's wrong with this guy?"
There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just that awesome. And Remember how I told you I was gonna buy my kids gold plated monkeys? This blog needs to keep going if that's still going to happen, the Nigerian Prince that e-mailed me told me he has a few extras I can have if I send my social security number and credit card information. Done and done, Prince Amukamara. Haha, I think a few people will get that joke, and if you don't, Google him. He's a real person.
I guess the reason I'm back doing this today is that since Sunday, people have been busting on me to get back to doing this. Family, friends, "Bluth from DeLuth" (Shout out to my boy Bluth! Go Brewers! You loser. For those of you I haven't told, "Bluth" is a guy who found my blog somehow and started reading and talking to me. He's an awesome guy, loves beer, baseball, football, and his Golden Gophers. He's not really a loser either.), basically a lot of people have been getting on me about starting to post again, so here I am.
Also, during my extensive break (I dunno if it was extensive, it has felt like a really long time), I went back a re-read all the stuff from my writing portfolio. I've got old book reports from grade school, the "Butterfly Story" from my "ME Book" (4th grade, SPX, everyone who made one should go back and re-read what they wrote, it's hilarious stuff in mine) and one day I will post that story on here, maybe when I get home today. It's a beautiful tale.
Uh, what else was in there? A note that Anne and I kept passing back and forth to each other from 8th grade (also awesome stuff), a lot of stuff from my creative writing and poetry classes, and just pieces of novels and other books I've failed to finish.
But I realized something as I re-read all this stuff. I "grade" my own writing too hard and I'm far too hard on myself. Looking back, I had a tendency to over edit, rip out words that "weren't good enough" and damn was I stupid. The rough drafts were so much better than the final product.
I think the problem is in the back of my head, every great writer had some sort of problem, Hemingway, Joyce, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Capote, and Poe were all drunks or struggled with alcohol and depression and there's countless writers who thought that the things they wrote weren't up to snub with (fill in the blank) and just blew up what they wrote (I literally blow up bad blog posts, one brick of C4, boom, then I go buy a new computer). That's what went on in my head, and it turns out that's not true at all, I should just write what I want instead of writing something, hating it, and not letting it see the light of day.
I want to go down as a great writer. Maybe not in the same realm as Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Edgar Allen Poe, or Chiuna Achebe (maybe not a house hold name, but he's by far my favorite author and his book "Things Fall Apart" is still one of my favorites all thanks to Mr. Haller who taught my world literature class at DaMafUh) and the others I mentioned above, but that's okay. Those men are legends.
So I may never become a household name, write a novel, pen a memoir, collaborate on a script, but hell, compose a speech for a politician, but all that's just icing on the cake. I'd be thrilled writing a column for a newspaper (or should I just stop saying newspaper and say website? God I hate the fact that if I do become a columnist, I probably won't get to literally hold my first column in my hands, but that's an anger I'll let out another time. Wow, that was a slight off topic rant), editing some poor smhuck's drafts, or just writing this blog in my spare time. Which brings me to my next topic...
Women.
Not really, just wanted to throw an off speed pitch by ya there. "Cuz it's one, two three strikes you walk..."
What I really wanted to do with these closing statements is thank you, the readers. No joke, if I could, I would find every last one of the people who read this thing and hug you. You're allowing me to keep doing this, if no one read this, I'd probably be moving up to Buffalo right now. So thank you for the comments, ideas, feedback (which I guess is redundant cuz I already said comments, my blog, my rules), and for all the love.
So that's all I got, my grand return to the stage, and the marking of the new start of a lot of things in my life. Just remember I want some more guest posts, some more ideas, and any feelings you guys have on beards (hopefully that will be my next post) you can send to my inbox on Facebook. If you put it on my wall or comment it on a status, then everyone can see what the post will be about and it's totally worthless, it's like if I told you at the end of Fast Five, ********* gets arrested, ******* & **** have a baby, and **** ****** is naked. None of those are accurate, at least I think they're not, they're just there to prove a point.
I'm back.
So yeah, the blogging took a back seat, or maybe I treated it like "Home Alone" and I'm just getting back home on the truck with John Candy. Truth be told, I was kind of in a mindset to just put the blog in the ground and kill it (in that order, I like to make sure you'll fit in the grave before I get out the old tarp and shovel). But I'm not going too, this blog keeps me writing and keeps you guys smiling and keeps some people wondering "What's wrong with this guy?"
There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just that awesome. And Remember how I told you I was gonna buy my kids gold plated monkeys? This blog needs to keep going if that's still going to happen, the Nigerian Prince that e-mailed me told me he has a few extras I can have if I send my social security number and credit card information. Done and done, Prince Amukamara. Haha, I think a few people will get that joke, and if you don't, Google him. He's a real person.
I guess the reason I'm back doing this today is that since Sunday, people have been busting on me to get back to doing this. Family, friends, "Bluth from DeLuth" (Shout out to my boy Bluth! Go Brewers! You loser. For those of you I haven't told, "Bluth" is a guy who found my blog somehow and started reading and talking to me. He's an awesome guy, loves beer, baseball, football, and his Golden Gophers. He's not really a loser either.), basically a lot of people have been getting on me about starting to post again, so here I am.
Also, during my extensive break (I dunno if it was extensive, it has felt like a really long time), I went back a re-read all the stuff from my writing portfolio. I've got old book reports from grade school, the "Butterfly Story" from my "ME Book" (4th grade, SPX, everyone who made one should go back and re-read what they wrote, it's hilarious stuff in mine) and one day I will post that story on here, maybe when I get home today. It's a beautiful tale.
Uh, what else was in there? A note that Anne and I kept passing back and forth to each other from 8th grade (also awesome stuff), a lot of stuff from my creative writing and poetry classes, and just pieces of novels and other books I've failed to finish.
But I realized something as I re-read all this stuff. I "grade" my own writing too hard and I'm far too hard on myself. Looking back, I had a tendency to over edit, rip out words that "weren't good enough" and damn was I stupid. The rough drafts were so much better than the final product.
I think the problem is in the back of my head, every great writer had some sort of problem, Hemingway, Joyce, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Capote, and Poe were all drunks or struggled with alcohol and depression and there's countless writers who thought that the things they wrote weren't up to snub with (fill in the blank) and just blew up what they wrote (I literally blow up bad blog posts, one brick of C4, boom, then I go buy a new computer). That's what went on in my head, and it turns out that's not true at all, I should just write what I want instead of writing something, hating it, and not letting it see the light of day.
I want to go down as a great writer. Maybe not in the same realm as Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Edgar Allen Poe, or Chiuna Achebe (maybe not a house hold name, but he's by far my favorite author and his book "Things Fall Apart" is still one of my favorites all thanks to Mr. Haller who taught my world literature class at DaMafUh) and the others I mentioned above, but that's okay. Those men are legends.
So I may never become a household name, write a novel, pen a memoir, collaborate on a script, but hell, compose a speech for a politician, but all that's just icing on the cake. I'd be thrilled writing a column for a newspaper (or should I just stop saying newspaper and say website? God I hate the fact that if I do become a columnist, I probably won't get to literally hold my first column in my hands, but that's an anger I'll let out another time. Wow, that was a slight off topic rant), editing some poor smhuck's drafts, or just writing this blog in my spare time. Which brings me to my next topic...
Women.
Not really, just wanted to throw an off speed pitch by ya there. "Cuz it's one, two three strikes you walk..."
What I really wanted to do with these closing statements is thank you, the readers. No joke, if I could, I would find every last one of the people who read this thing and hug you. You're allowing me to keep doing this, if no one read this, I'd probably be moving up to Buffalo right now. So thank you for the comments, ideas, feedback (which I guess is redundant cuz I already said comments, my blog, my rules), and for all the love.
So that's all I got, my grand return to the stage, and the marking of the new start of a lot of things in my life. Just remember I want some more guest posts, some more ideas, and any feelings you guys have on beards (hopefully that will be my next post) you can send to my inbox on Facebook. If you put it on my wall or comment it on a status, then everyone can see what the post will be about and it's totally worthless, it's like if I told you at the end of Fast Five, ********* gets arrested, ******* & **** have a baby, and **** ****** is naked. None of those are accurate, at least I think they're not, they're just there to prove a point.
I'm back.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Inspiration and the Lack There of...
Disclaimer - This post is a bit dry and unwitty. It also involves some heavy beggin at the end. Hey, don't make that face. You know you love it. So post starts....now.
Inspiration. I guess I'm writing on this subject because at this moment I have none. I have zero ideas for a new post. I wrote a bunch but I wound up deleting them cuz I think they were total crap but who knows, they may have been awesome and I just hated them.
I've even been thinking what inspires me lately. Is it my family? My friends? The image of what could be my future? My camera? Quotes from favorite writers? Lessons from favorite teachers (The One and Only Mr. Sam Haller)? Truth is, I don't think I can pinpoint just one thing that inspires me to do what I'm doing and to keep living the life I live but I'll talk about one of them on this post.
What I'm going to mention with these next paragraphs is what got my quest for where my inspiration comes from and also what is a big driving force for my inspiration now. I feel like that's a pointless sentence, much like this one. Anyway...I was looking through a book a friend got me as a Christmas gift last night and noticed something. Now, I have flipped through that book thirty times studying the pictures and descriptions but it never noticed that on the cover page written in pencil was this message -
"From the moment I laid eyes on this book I thought about three things, you, your camera, and (duh) Washington. I'm sure that your pictures are better than these, but I hope they atleast inspire you to keep doing the things you love." It's signed "Customer Serivce". I'd put his real name but he doesn't read my blog so I'll leave it out.
That note now sits in a frame (replaced my Keb' Mo' & Robert Cray poster, if you know my music taste you know that's huge) and I look at it every time I walk out of the room. It's what's driving me to keep picking up my camera, writing this blog, and all the other stuff I do.
Okay, so I'm running low on ideas here people. If you have anything you want me to write about, any opinion you wanna voice, a story you want me to tell, or anything really. I'm down for your ideas, I do this for you, the people (even though you probably don't enjoy it) and I wanna keep doing it so give me some ideas! I'll leave all my contact information below.
So one more thing. If you all like reading and think I'm funny or just like laughing about how dumb I am, please tell your friends to read, comment, and send hate mail if they want too. I wanna see if the only reason people like it is cuz they see me alot and don't wanna hurt my feelings.
This post is weaksauce...
To contact me with ideas
Twitter - @therealSamWow
Facebook - Sam-Wow Carroll
E-Mail - samcarroll9@gmail.com
Inspiration. I guess I'm writing on this subject because at this moment I have none. I have zero ideas for a new post. I wrote a bunch but I wound up deleting them cuz I think they were total crap but who knows, they may have been awesome and I just hated them.
I've even been thinking what inspires me lately. Is it my family? My friends? The image of what could be my future? My camera? Quotes from favorite writers? Lessons from favorite teachers (The One and Only Mr. Sam Haller)? Truth is, I don't think I can pinpoint just one thing that inspires me to do what I'm doing and to keep living the life I live but I'll talk about one of them on this post.
What I'm going to mention with these next paragraphs is what got my quest for where my inspiration comes from and also what is a big driving force for my inspiration now. I feel like that's a pointless sentence, much like this one. Anyway...I was looking through a book a friend got me as a Christmas gift last night and noticed something. Now, I have flipped through that book thirty times studying the pictures and descriptions but it never noticed that on the cover page written in pencil was this message -
"From the moment I laid eyes on this book I thought about three things, you, your camera, and (duh) Washington. I'm sure that your pictures are better than these, but I hope they atleast inspire you to keep doing the things you love." It's signed "Customer Serivce". I'd put his real name but he doesn't read my blog so I'll leave it out.
That note now sits in a frame (replaced my Keb' Mo' & Robert Cray poster, if you know my music taste you know that's huge) and I look at it every time I walk out of the room. It's what's driving me to keep picking up my camera, writing this blog, and all the other stuff I do.
Okay, so I'm running low on ideas here people. If you have anything you want me to write about, any opinion you wanna voice, a story you want me to tell, or anything really. I'm down for your ideas, I do this for you, the people (even though you probably don't enjoy it) and I wanna keep doing it so give me some ideas! I'll leave all my contact information below.
So one more thing. If you all like reading and think I'm funny or just like laughing about how dumb I am, please tell your friends to read, comment, and send hate mail if they want too. I wanna see if the only reason people like it is cuz they see me alot and don't wanna hurt my feelings.
This post is weaksauce...
To contact me with ideas
Twitter - @therealSamWow
Facebook - Sam-Wow Carroll
E-Mail - samcarroll9@gmail.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)