Read The Book of (Even More) Awesome Page 5

Whether you’re shredding your legs on a raspberry bush, scalding your hand in hot water, or taking an arrow to the chest in the forest, I got bad news for you, brother: That’s gonna hurt. Yes, when our bodies take blows, those powerful jolts make us cry salty tears, run for the hills, or crashland in hospital beds with limbs hanging everywhere.

  But that pain really is there for three big reasons:1. Stop! ... Bandage time. The first thing pain does is make you stop doing that painful thing you’re doing. Your brain focuses every neuron on getting you out of Danger Bay and returning you to Safety Beach. Stop! You’re lawnmowering your foot. Stop! You’re leaning on an oven burner. Stop! You’re dancing in much too baggy pants.

  2. Long live the cast. Pain reminds us to take care of injured body parts so they can heal. We lean on crutches so our ankles can untwist, plaster broken arms so bones can set, and bandage cuts to prevent infections. Throbbing migraines send us to dark rooms and bum knees get us limping because that’s what we need, sister. Pain’s just whispering advice to send us down the road to good health.

  3. Fool me twice, shame on me. Pain’s whole plan is to get us to stop doing painful things long term. Think of pain as a cranky granny shaking her finger when you sheepishly come schlepping up the front walk battered and bruised. “No more running through raspberry bushes, mister,” she starts. “No more checking hot water with your fingers. And no more medieval battle games in the forest.”

  Now, if all that wasn’t enough, our egghead pals over at Wikipedia even report that people who don’t feel pain actually live shorter lives. Maybe that’s because pain’s just there to do a job for us. It motivates us to flee hurtin’ scenes, protects our body while it heals, and teaches us to avoid painful places in the future.

  Pain’s our invisible Life Coach, sewn into our bones, twisted in our DNA, and helping us all keep strong as we keep motoring on.

  AWESOME!

  The smell of an old hardware store

  Let’s go on a trip.

  It’s time to walk into an old hardware store and take a look around. There’s a dusty, paint-splotched radio playing oldies, a Cash Only sign above the till, and an old man with glasses and heavy plaid shirt leaning on the counter just daring you to ask him a question he can’t answer. As you walk past the tired vending machine with sodas below market prices you take a big whiff and bring back a brainful of love and memories with these gems:• Tires. Chinese chemical plants, hot liquid rubber, and the musty stench of cargo bays combine to form this mind-altering buzz. And when you cruise on by don’t forget to grab a free hand massage by rubbing your palm across all those tiny plastic hairy bits sticking out in all directions.

  • Those tightly packed piles of soil. Flopped sideways and drooping in all directions, don’t these bags always look like they’re about to burst at the seams? Well, I guess the problem is that some of them do, leaking their sweet-smelling brown-with-whiteflecks load all over the floor.

  • The key-cutting machine. If your hardware store is lucky enough to have a kid working away on a screaming key-cutting machine, then you’re probably sniffing in some oily machine parts and hot metal scraps flying in all directions.

  • Stacks of lumber. Decades of sun, water, and carbon dioxide help grow tiny seedlings in the sod into majestic giants of the forest. Now, even though they’re diced into bits, they’re still exhaling those deep woody, sappy-fresh scents.

  • Assorted old spills. Somebody kicked a can of paint thinner under Aisle 3 fifteen years ago and now its faintly toxic aroma is hanging limply in the air along with metal nail dust, shiny tools, and plastic snow shovels.

  • Big plastic bins full of tiny parts. It’s fun running your hand through hundreds of drywall screw holders, rubber faucet seals, or those plastic things you sometimes see in bricks.

  As you walk down those creaking wooden floors, through dusty sunbeam rays shining over dirty floor mats, don’t forget to let that jingle-jangly door clang shut on your Saturday-morning sniff down memory lane.

  AWESOME!

  Putting on your most flattering pair of pants

  Just slide smoothly into that second skin and get ready to rock the streets with your perfectly wrapped package. Yes, it’s time to shake that booty and get ready to look great, girlfriend.

  Suddenly chubby legs get the trim-down treatment, saggy flabs get toned, and all the dark creases crinkle in just the right places and just the right spaces.

  See, we all have that one perfect pair of pants that fits us best. And we all know how it feels throwing them on before heading out.

  AWESOME!

  That guy who helps you parallel park

  I suck at parallel parking.

  Honestly, just look at me out there: tire-scraping, curbbumping , seven-point turning in the middle of the busy downtown street. Yes, that’s why I always breathe a massive sigh of relief when someone stops by to lend me a hand:1. Airport Crew Chief. Strap a neon vest and giant earmuffs on this gal because she’s straight off the landing strip. If you’re lucky she’ll stand in your side mirror and use that beautiful two-hands-gettingcloser-together technique.

  2. The Extremist. Dude’s an extreme screamer with no middle ground. Some of his favorite lines are: “Back back back back back ba—STOP!,” “Whoa. Whoa! WhoawhoawhoaWHOAWHOOOAH!,” and “Lots of space lots of space lots of—you’re on the curb.”

  3. Mr. Measures. This guy’s straight outta the classroom and all about the accuracy. He’ll be dusting chalk off his hands while inspecting your bumper and calling out, “You’ve still got four inches.”

  We sure do love these kind sidewalk souls. Without their help we’d be craning our necks and twisting our spines so it’s great when they pop on by to help us pop on in.

  AWESOME!

  Peeling your socks off under the sheets

  Skip the shock.

  People, we all know how bad your feet have it. They’ve been through a lot today so no need nailing them with a blast of cold air before bed. Instead, just tuck them in tightly, tuck them in rightly, and peel off your socks using only your feet when you’re warm and comfy under the sheets.

  Don’t worry—you can collect the sweaty sock mounds from the foot of your bed tomorrow.

  Sweet dreams.

  AWESOME!

  Napping with somebody else

  Jam your elbows in that stomach, breathe in those shampoo fumes, and squeeze your knees into the puffy cushions while spooning into a quick catnap on the couch. As drool drips, skin warms, and a slippery sweatfilm slides between you, just smile, close your eyes, and fade into a quiet cuddly moment with someone you love.

  AWESOME!

  Getting a stuck ball out of somewhere by using another ball

  This is the childhood version of Mr. Fixit.

  Whether you’re shooting free throws in the driveway, whipping tennis balls at a wall, or tossing Frisbees in the park, it always happens, man. Someone tosses it a bit too high or a bit too wobbly and suddenly your whole game gets stuck in a tight squeeze. Now the basketball is behind the backboard, the tennis ball is on the roof, and the Frisbee is stuck in the tree.

  Of course the best way to get that ball out is by using its family members against it. This is the backyard equivalent of putting the hostage taker’s mom on the phone during the tense negotiations.

  “Antonio, please. It’s your mother. You don’t have to do this,” the bald, withered tennis ball in the crowded street pleads over the radio to the scarred one sitting in the gutter.

  “I love you, Antonio.”

  Using one ball to rescue another is always effective as long as you watch out for these potential trip-ups along the way: 1. Double Down. This is when your second ball joins the first ball instead of popping it out. Now you’ve got mom and son in the gutter and you’re running out of things to toss. Bring out the ladder, hockey stick, or swimming pool noodles.

  2. It’s Raining Running Shoes. This is the opposite of the double down. In this case the good news is the tennis racquet
, garden stones, or running shoes you tossed up there did the job. The bad news is you weren’t ready for both to fall so you took a hard Reebok to the kisser.

  3. The Understudy. You popped the wedged basketball out, but the other ball you threw up there got stuck behind the backboard. If you listen you’ll hear as a voice announces on the PA system too. “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. The role of tightly wedged Spalding in tonight’s performance will be played by half-deflated volleyball.”

  4. The Sunset. This is where you take so long to dislodge the football out of the tree that the sun sets and forces you to come back tomorrow. The Sunset can also happen when you’re the one who got the ball stuck to begin with so your friends wait till you pass it down before leaving you up there to enjoy the view.

  Now, let’s not let those trip-ups cool down our buzz, because we all know another ball generally does the job just fine.

  Good luck, driveway warriors.

  AWESOME!

  Seeing a license plate from home when you’re somewhere really far away

  Every plate has a story.

  Maybe it’s a cab of college kids on an endless summer road trip. Beef jerky wrappers, stained T-shirts, and a sweaty cooler fill the backseat of the rusty Volvo as they cruise cross-country to soak in some sunny freedom before school starts. You see them laughing in front of you with a plate from your hometown and you smile softly at distant days gone by ...

  Or maybe it’s a couple retirees from the same state as you out enjoying the first few weeks of a brand new life. As you pass their big boxy RV in the slow lane, you peek in and notice a wrinkly driver in a tight ballcap and baggy pink shirt steering fiercely with a big twinkle in her eye. Your brain backflips as you daydream about your last day of work ...

  Or maybe it’s a family station wagon filling up at the pumps with a canoe on the roof and sleeping bags in the window. They’re heading up north the same way you are and inside two kids play video games in crumbs and juice stains as baby chews Cheerios and falls fast asleep. You glance at your boyfriend riding shotgun and he looks up innocently and smiles ...

  Yes, seeing a license plate from your home in a place far, far away is just a little winking reminder that we’re all joined from the edge of our driveway to the edge of your driveway. Dusty towns, big cities, open fields, and tree-lined lanes may lie between us ... but the truth is we’re all in this together: bouncing in cars, swerving down roads, spinning in place, flying through space.

  AWESOME!

  The moment on vacation when you forget what day of the week it is

  Let’s see here.

  Saturday we got here. Sunday we did nothing. Then after that we did nothing. The next day we did nothing. And we’re doing nothing now.

  AWESOME!

  Hanging out with your mom

  My mom and I saw a movie the other night.

  I zoomed up the highway from my downtown apartment and she got a lift through the quiet side streets of my hometown. She had a big smile when I got there and was waiting in the lobby wearing lipstick and a cream cable-knit sweater. She had the tickets prepurchased and a purse packed with white chocolate, mixed nuts, and two bottles of water.

  A plump n’ perky assistant manager with curls waterfalling out of her tight ballcap ripped our tickets and pointed us down the hall. We passed a couple glossy-eyed teens holding mops and had a quick discussion—Where do you want to sit? Where do you want to sit? Wherever you want to sit—before grabbing a couple in the middle of the red plushy tundra.

  Now, my mom’s five feet tall so her legs dangled from the chair, her clean gray spongy-soled sneakers swaying like a kid on a swing set. We chatted, chilled, and chowed down on chocolate before leaning back for the start of the show.

  My mom fell asleep in twenty minutes.

  I elbowed her softly and her eyes popped open. She looked at me, laughed guiltily, and whispered in a mock-cranky tone, “It’s past my bedtime!” She then watched a few more minutes before dozing off again. After a couple more elbow jabs, I eventually just let her go.

  When the credits started rolling and the houselights turned up we put on our coats and made our way down. “So what did you think of the ending?” I asked with a big smile. “I liked the way they wrapped things up,” she straight-faced back, holding the metal handrail and single-stepping down the stairs.

  I drove her home down the quiet, wet-slicked roads, through empty intersections, past my old school and the park where my sister and I had soccer practice. When we reached the house, she smiled groggily, gave me a big hug, and said come back soon.

  As I zipped down the highway into the bright city lights my brain photo-flashed back ... to blurry images of latenight rides through those same empty intersections, photos flashing from front-row seats at school plays, and cold wobbly lawn chairs sitting patiently for hours on the sidelines of rainy soccer practices ...

  AWESOME!

  When the person you’re meeting is even later than you are

  Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.

  You’re late.

  Racing, running, rushing, you’re checking your watch and picturing your friend tapping their foot and rolling their eyes while waiting for you.

  That’s why it’s great when you arrive hot, sweaty, and breathless just before they rush around the corner hot, sweaty, and breathless too.

  Now no one has to feel bad.

  AWESOME!

  Riding your bike really late at night when the streets are completely empty

  Now’s your time.

  As the sun dips down and the twilight fades to darkness there’s nothing sweeter than wheeling your bike out of the garage for a late summer night cruise. Those freewheeling adventures are great for a few reasons:• The sound of silence. Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to ride with you again. Yes, blaring horns, squealing brakes, and revving engines are all turned down and you’re left alone in the shadows with the wind whispering in your ears.

  • Danger, Will Robinson. There’s a sense of reckless cool cruising down those lonely black roads. You can swerve your bike in all directions, hop off the curbs, and be a two-wheeled free spirit.

  • Street King. House lights flick off and raccoons paw trash cans as you rule your Neighborhood Empire as the newly crowned Street King. Puff your chest and scream, “Get off my land!” at passing motorists. Just keep that crown under your helmet for safety.

  Yes, riding your bike late at night lets you be alone with your thoughts and your dreams and your fears all rolling around your brain as you roll around the block. Chatty parents, buzzing phones, and little brothers are all left behind as you stare forward into the blackness and ride on and on and on ...

  AWESOME!

  Dropping your cell phone on the sidewalk and then realizing it’s totally fine

  It’s a terrible scene.

  As that cell phone, digital camera, or pair of sunglasses crashlands on the concrete, everyone gasps as it crunches, bounces, and skids hard ...

  Suddenly your eyes blur, stomach twists, and world flips as you fade back and realize you’re somehow covered in scrubs inside a busy hospital ER.

  You glance down the hall and see ambulance guys racing toward you wheeling your bloody cell phone strapped to a gurney without any noticeable lights or beeps. Someone’s got an icebox holding the battery case that blew off and a nurse is screaming that signal strength has flatlined.

  Your eyebrows furrow and pupils dilate as you snap on latex gloves, pull up your surgical mask, and start frantically checking for vitals. You scan for signs of blunt trauma, pop the battery in and out, and then finally stare straight into your cell phone’s face while closing your eyes, wincing, and forcing yourself to push Power.

  There is a pause.

  Nurses lean in with wide, hopeful eyes, ambulance guys jostle and crowd, and nervous friends squeeze their own phones tightly for comfort and support. Then suddenly as everyone waits ... and waits ... and waits ...

  The powe
r flashes and blinks back on.

  And there is cheering.

  AWESOME!

  When a big chunk of earwax randomly falls out of your ear

  Sure, it’s a little bit extremely disgusting, but the gross-out factor pales in comparison to the massive release you feel when a waxy boulder comes tumbling out of a cave on the side of Head Mountain. Remember: There’s nothing to be embarrassed about because this is just The Magic of the Human Body. Yes, like a loyal employee punching out after a hard day on the line, your earwax heads home with its lunchbox in hand after drowning dust and dirt on a double shift in your ear canal. The gig’s not easy and it doesn’t pay well, so when Waxy Brown’s finished his business, you know it’s because he’s done as much as he can.

  AWESOME!

  Finally realizing where you know someone from after staring at them forever

  We’re all bad at names but sometimes faces stick in our brains.

  Yes, when you see Familiar Brown-Haired Man walk by the bus stop or Curly Redhead Lady eating fries in the food court you suddenly do a double take and think, “Wait ... I know them from somewhere.”

  That’s when you stop chewing your gum, stop talking to your friends, and stop sending blood to nonvital organs. All the tiny men in your head wake up, put on their boots, and fire-pole down to your brain’s dusty archives. Suddenly they’re fishing through files, scanning databases, and booting up old hard drives to comb every neuron you’ve got for trace clues of who you’re staring at.

  Photos flash of high school dances, first jobs, and college parties. You imagine beards and mustaches, picture them in ballcaps, or mentally dye their hair blond. Your mind reels through old friends’ girlfriends, people who owe you money, and cousins from the other side of the family you met at a distant wedding.