When you look past the flying trucks, Spring saw all the usual suspects. Hikes, bikes, runs, bands, friends, and a few late nights. An unusually quieter season than typical. Less party, more work. A productive place to be, but the pendulum likes to swing.
One of my best buds Drew E. Cohen, turned 40 in October and over twenty of us from all corners of the country descended upon Indio, California to help the man celebrate.
We swam, dined, karaoked, Halloweened, baby showered, competed in Beer Olympics, and raised our glasses to a guy who’s been asked to be a best man more times than anyone I’ve ever met.
Everyone came together and contributed in their own way to make it not just a memorable weekend the man of the hour, but for us all. Truly, one for the books.
I was glad to have contributed some of my finest artist works to date for the celebration, in the form of a book cover, a cake design of biblical proportions, and Beer Olympics team bandanas. A true career high for me.
Lastly, Kelsie wrangled everyone to contribute a fun memory or well wish for a book she put together for him. Figure I’d share my contribution here, becasue I meant every word, and the truth is worth preserving:
Forty… My god, I’m so, so sorry bud. We go back a long ways now, since 2009 I think. That said, it shouldn’t be too hard for me to pick one of our memories to share here, certainly a lot to choose from. But If I’m being honest, with so many favorites, it’s not easy picking just one.
Should it be the first memory I have of you? The time you became if only for a moment, my one true lord and savior, when you literally freed me from a locked parking garage I’d been trapped in for hours on end in the dead of night. You always knew how to make a first impression.
How about the countless shows we’ve been to, where on more than a few occasions people had to tell us to shut the hell up, because no matter how desperately we wanted to see a band, it seemed to sometimes pale in comparison to how much more fun it was to just shoot the breeze and catch up. And on the topic of shows, I have to mention the time that like a modern day Moses you parted a sea of moshing kids at the Troubadour to pick up my fallen glasses for me.
Maybe it’s traveling our country together, 18 states by my count. In nearly all instances, promising ourselves we’d turn in at the hotel at a decent hour for some rest so we wouldn’t spoil our trip, but sure as the Sun shines, we’d always break that promise. Whether the lethal blow was staying out till some ungodly hour, or was actually making it back to the room as intended, but fatally talking hours on end like two kids on a weekend sleepover. Sometimes a combination of both.
We’ve done our fair share of globe trotting outside our borders too. The first time I ever used my passport was of course, with you in Peru. Something I consider to be one of the greatest experiences of my life, and in hindsight, an adventure we were either too young or too hungover to realize just how dangerous it was at times. Then there was “No Rules” in Spain. Watching snow fall while we floated in warm waters in Japan. Cramming into a flat bed truck in Thailand so the locals could pelt us with water balloons for the New Year. Chasing whale sharks and mantas in the Maldives, and exploring a tiny deserted island in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Aimlessly wandering the streets of Hong Kong, and after several hours of day drinking, declaring through an inebriated lens of optimism that we both “could totally see living here.”
Maybe it’s one of the smaller or more ridiculous memories. Watching you simultaneously hail three taxis out of thin air, when the rest of us couldn’t catch one for hours. The copy of Atlas Shrugged that mysteriously arrived on my doorstep. Crushing homemade beer towers in your front lawn like degenerates. You bringing a couch to my “Bring Your Own Chair” party in my empty apartment, and months later, you single handedly carrying that couch out of my apartment after I told you I couldn’t move it by myself. Thinking a shortcut on foot through Skid Row in broad daylight wouldn’t be that scary. Me having the best view in all of Coachella, sitting on your shoulders over 10 feet off the ground. Slayer almost ending my life. Our countless “Piano Man” karaoke duets (If Hell is real, it’s us rewatching those performances for eternity). And of course I can’t forget you helping orchestrate what seemed like all of Dodger Stadium to chant “Let’s go Kyle LET’S GO!”
Maybe my favorite memory of ours is one of the more predictable standouts. Standing up with you on your wedding day and having you stand up with me at mine. Or maybe it’s meeting Della and holding her for the first time.
I think you see the conundrum now. Can’t pick just one. There’s too many memories. I will say after all these years though, what I’m most thankful to you for, is just how far you’re willing to lean in, especially when my nature is to lean out and go it alone. You could’ve stopped inviting me out well before trying for the second, third, fourth, or fifth time that I dodged you. But unlike July 11th at Buca Di Beppo, you didn’t quit, and I’m a lot better off for it.
Yes you’re getting older, but just remember, we may be dying, but we’re not dead yet. Happy 40 my friend.
Family in Florida. Friends in LA. Lazy rivers in Palm Springs. A train ride along the Pacific. A hurricane warning in Los Angeles. Endless bands in Chicago. This was summer.
Wooly Mammoth by Local Natives
Rain and Snow. Hikes and Sunsets. Friends and brothers. Sons and Dads. The Bulls in Chicago and The Boss in St. Paul. Stiff drinks and long division. This was Winter.
“Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen
Alexis turns Thiry-Five and makes everyone wear ugly sweaters.
Failed to get a group picture, but there were 15 of us that flew into Vegas for some fun. Against the natural order of that place, I left with more money than I came with for a change. The trick was a few hot craps shooters, and faithfully playing a new set of roulette numbers. Caused a few laughs and raised a few eyebrows when I told the table I got the winning numbers from my therapist.
The good times, with the good people. A lot of bands on the roster for “This Ain’t No Picnic” in Pasadena, plenty of which my “age to coolness ratio” didn’t qualify me to have even heard of before. Even still, we caught plenty of music. LCD Soundsystem, Idles, Beach House, The Strokes, and I finally got to see Pheobe Bridgers for the first time. She’s been on heavy rotation through my speakers the past few years.
“Someday” by The Strokes
I’ve loved this song since I first heard it, over twenty years ago. Long back enough that younger generations are starting to cover it, and I’m falling in love with it all over again.
“Someday” by Julia Jacklin
We always have a fun time on our annual Boggs Family Adventure, and this year was no exception. From poolside and the mountain tram in Palm Springs, to discovering the hidden inner workings at Disneyland. Steph’s brother works at Disney and was able to walk us to the front of the line for a bunch of rides. That’s about as good a deal as it gets, but even still I’d have to say the highlight was Indiana Jones breaking down while we were on it, and having to get out of our cart and walk through the ride on foot. Most of that walk was in darkness, with all ambient sounds and music shutoff, but with the animatronic Indiana Jones’ still moving. With no other sounds, the grinding of Indie’s internal gears was all you could hear. Really the stuff of nightmares, but I wouldn’t trade it for the normally functioning ride any day.
The great meeting of the (developing) minds.
The Cohen’s invited us to crash their family vacation in Gearhart, a small town on the Oregon Coast. They’ve stayed at this particular beach house a few times over, but it was a first for Alexis and I. It’s absolutely gorgeous out there. I’m no stranger to a beach and lived most of my years within a few miles of one, but it really feels unique out there. Simultaneously lush and harsh.
We spent our days eating, drinking, exploring, playing games, sort of flying a kite, losing sandals, and doing our best to entertain Della while simultaneously falling under the spell of her charm. She’s a little maniac, in the best of ways, that is growing up much too fast for the frequency we get to see her.
Of course, as sure as the sun rises, I spent an unreasonable amount of time in the hot tub. It wouldn’t be vacation otherwise. Possibly a collective 8 hours in one day. I have sources that could verify, but my sunburn was probably evidence enough. Think I also broke a record for the fastest I’ve ever exited of a hot tub. All it took was Jason pretending to throw the live crab he just caught into the water with me. Speaking of, the ordeal he went through to catch that crab could be worthy of multi-part docuseries.
We made sure to explore Cannon Beach nearby, mainly to hunt for obligatory photo opportunities featuring scenes from The Goonies. The clouds hung low and the fog was heavy, but it somehow felt ideal. Walking around the town for an hour or two had the predictable effect of me opening Zillow to wonder if a life here could be possible. Most importantly, Alexis finally got to be a Goonie.
After a couple days on the coast, we packed up and headed to Portland, but not before a pitstop in Astoria. Always liked how Astoria sounded. Astoria. Anyhow, we were there hardly two or three hours, but it was just long enough to be charmed by it. The weather was nice, and I wouldn’t guess that to be true a good part of the year. This meant the streets were lively and the people were in good spirits since they got to wear t-shirts and shorts. We had lunch and a drink at a brewery and spent the rest of our time hunting for more Goonies shots. Mikey and Brand’s house, the Astoria Historical Museum where their dad worked, and the jail where the Fratellis busted out of. They even had the iconic Jeep 4×4 parked outside it, bullet holes and all. You better believe Alexis was fired up.
Eventually, we arrived in Portland. We’ve been there before, but haven’t really seen much of it. This trip wasn’t much different in that sense, we were only there two nights, but we stayed in an area new to Alexis and I, the same goes for what and where we ate. Demystifying the city just a little bit more for us. In that spirit of making it count, when the girls decided to get their nails done one day, and everyone else opted for a nap, seemed like a chance to take in what I could on foot. Ended up being a lot of walking on a hot day, but I had no trouble finding a shaded patio and a cold beer to counter the sun. You absorb so much more when the world isn’t rushing past a car window. Always worth the price of adding a few miles to your shoes. While I do wonder how the people who actually live there feel about that saying “Keep Portland Weird,” I know that I love the spirit of it, and walking around, I felt it.
Another reason we wanted to spend some time in Portland was because our friend Jon lives there now. He moved from Seattle with his girlfriend Margret and they bought a house. We finally got to see it, and it’s lovely. He’s really carved out a nice life there. He showed us around some of his usual stomping grounds too. We dined, we drank, we gamed, and we watched Jon eat the scariest hot-dog any of us have ever seen.
Just a few hours before we were set to leave, we stopped off at a park and met up with some old friends, Erin and Jamie, who I knew from when I was in college and who Drew knew when he was in high school. That’s a strange sentence that honestly kinda touches on the confusion of how we’re all connected. It could probably warrant a scientific study, but that’s for another time. Anyhow, none of us had seen each other in a longtime, and it was nice it happened. They introduced us to their kids, Ruby who was so young and tiny that sleep seemed to be her biggest priority, and Elliot who might’ve held the coveted spot as the coolest kid on the playground that day. Sporting shades, a hat and jean-jacket speckled with cool kid patches all over it. He demanded a high-five from me before we left, which if I’m being honest, made me feel like a million bucks.
It’s with that, that our Oregon adventure came to a close. We got our photos, made our memories, and became honorary members of the Cohen clan. The last of which, I determined by Della being able to individually pick us out and point to us from a lineup when she heard our names. I was tempted to shave my beard to really put her to the test, but I also don’t want to be the uncle that inadvertently traumatizes her. Anyhow, thankful for these trips, thankful for these friends, and after nearly a week, thankful to sleep in our own bed.
Leona turns one and learned the best things in life, are sweet.
One scheduled flight at 10pm but cancelled at 3am later, we made it to Sacramento! The Duncans hosted a reunion of sorts at their new home. Was great seeing old friends, as well as meeting some of my brand new ones for the very first time. Lot of highlights, but one I was really excited for, was Drew, Duncan, and myself wearing the exact same shirt by happenstance. It’s always the best.
Will turns 40, and we all get a little tipsy.
We had some fun out in Joshua Tree with friends on a long weekend in late September. It was exactly what I’ve come to expect when you get this crowd together. Good laughs, good food, good drinks, and good memories. Of course I also spent a life-threatening amount of time in the hot tub. Wouldn’t be a weekend getaway otherwise. It’s a nice thing when your agenda for the day doesn’t equate to much more than watching the setting Sun and the rising Moon.
The house we stayed at and particularly the surrounding scenery, was out of this world. With a little color correction, it could probably serve as a backdrop for an alien planet in some sci-fi film. The landscape always seems so surreal out there, no matter how many times I’ve seen it. This felt especially true because of how secluded the house was. Trying to spot any other man made structures on the horizon felt like playing “Where’s Waldo.” A welcomed change from my everyday sights.
We did venture out toward some civilization one night to see Modest Mouse play at Pappy and Harriet’s. I seemed to miss the Modest Mouse train when I was younger and don’t know much else outside their hits. Even still, it was a really fun show and didn’t hurt that it was at a pretty unique venue. The Districts were the opening band. I’d never heard them before but glad we caught them. Been listening to them on and off ever since.
Cheap Regrets by The Districts
After a few days dehydrating ourselves in the desert, we headed back to Los Angeles for one last outing before we all went our separate ways. James Blake at the Hollywood Bowl. If I’m being honest, I had absolutely no idea who this guy was. Thing is though, The Bowl is a truly magical place, and in my experience it doesn’t really matter who’s playing. So long as it’s a nice night out, you’re gonna have a great time, and we did exactly that. Also didn’t hurt that our seats were absurdly close considering the layout and capacity of the Hollywood Bowl. We’ve got a friend who’s a good guy to know, to say the least.
Our friends Jenn and Duncan even flew down from Sacramento for the night to join in. I know, sounds exhausting. Thing is, they have three kids, and I have to imagine a chance to catch up with friends and have some adult conversation for a change, is a juice well worth the squeeze. Glad they made it and even more glad I get to be in the company of friends like these.
Local Natives with good friends at one of my favorite venues in all of Los Angeles. The Greek Theatre. Seats about as close as they get, with the girls in the first row and us guys right behind them in the second row. Close enough that you have to use you arms to part the fog rolling off stage. It was our first show since before the pandemic hit for Alexis and I. Definitely worth it and definitely a night to remember.
Past Lives by Local Natives
Della’s first Six Foot Giraffe. Love how her little hands appear to be proudly presenting her limited edition, Six Foot Giraffe Della Anthem Onesie. Can’t wait to meet her, but truly I can’t wait till she’s old enough to sneak and share candy with until we’re both sick to our stomachs. Everyone needs that aunt or uncle, and hell, I think it could be me.
Headed up to Big Bear for a long weekend getaway with the Boggs’. We did some light hiking, set a few smoke detectors off cooking, some hot tubbing, some card playing, some star gazing, and gathered around some candles and a fireplace wondering when the power would come back on. We also taught the kids how to play Roulette, for better or for worse. Spencer and Nikki, please, please don’t grow up to be degenerate gamblers. The house always wins.
Our small but plentiful Thanksgiving with the friends we call family. We ate, drank, walked and laughed. Didn’t need much else. Mike volunteered to cook the turkey, even though he’s been pushing himself to pursue a vegan diet this entire year, which reminded me a bit of this scene.
It’s my 34th birthday today. Over the weekend our friends Drew and Kelsie wanted to wish me an early happy birthday on a video call. It was fun, and then took a sharp turn towards monumental when they got someone else to say hello. That someone was my longtime hero… Tony Horton.
By the grace a God, and I’m sure a pretty penny, Drew and Kelsie got Tony Horton to wish (and sing) me a happy birthday. I’d have to liken watching the video to having an out of body experience. The moment the words “six foot giraffe” came out of his mouth, I nearly had a complete meltdown. It was awesome.
I’ve been under Tony’s motivational spell for ten years. Since the the first time I tried his exercise program in 2010. I’d never done anything like it before. It pushed me to new heights and I’ve since done the program many times over throughout the years. All along the way, Tony kept me fired up about it. I could literally recite every word the man says in those videos with a smile on my face. Yes, I am a maniac.
If I’m being totally honest, I’ve always felt a little down on my birthday. I don’t like getting older. Plain and simple. This birthday feels particularly conflicted with everything happening in the country and my city right now. I have to say though, this silly little video and just the thought it in the first place, is truly just what I needed.
Kelsie turned 30. Normally a group of us would be descending upon a new city and taking it by storm to celebrate. But then a global pandemic hit.
We’ve always gone all-out to celebrate our 30th birthdays and Kelsie’s the last one to join the club. She deserves a special 30th, pandemic or not. So we put our heads together on how to do that, and this is what we came up with. Judging by reports that she was a sobbing mess when she saw it, I’d say mission accomplished. Happy 30 Kelsie, we love you.
Summer was absolutely nuts, entirely too much, and unquestionably, a lot of fun.
A week in NYC with family and friends, celebrating 40th birthdays. A bachelor party in Nashville where we probably did more damage to our bodies in 48 hours than some do in 48 years. Not something to be particularly proud of, but if there’s ever a time for it, we found it. A wedding in Philadelphia where I danced to the point of being genuinely afraid to see what the photographer captured of it. Anticipating something that looks close to a full-body exorcism. Then there was a long weekend in Seattle of chasing kids and taking in views of the Puget Sound. There were dinners, concerts, sports, dog sits, baby showers. You name it. Then of course there’s that pesky career that I keep up with in between it all to maintain a living. Also not pictured here, was an entire week long Icelandic adventure.
By the end, it was all enough to have me wishing to never see anyone, or do anything, ever again. Yet simultaneously, thankful to not only be alive, but to be living.