Well I think it has been a while since I posted anything which has kind of made me sad, because I felt like I was on quite a roll of inspiration and due to unforeseen circumstances my inspiration had kind of dried up. I always knew there was going to be this hard time out here. I always knew there was going to be a point of this journey where I feel as though I've kind of hit rock bottom. And in knowing that and planning for that it still feels as though it has kind of hit me harder than I expected. And to be honest with all of you I don't think that I have really hit rock bottom. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the fact that I know the season is changing into fall back home, but out here there seems to be absolutely no change, besides what it on television. Maybe it's the fact that in my early adult life fall really has become my favorite of seasons with tailgating for college football, fantasy football with the fellas, and the way the trees begin to change colors right before your eyes. The thing is that being out here all of those things seem to be nothing more than a distant memory. And those pictures that are hanging up on my walls and on my dresser seem to be getting farther and farther away. I obviously know that's not true, and to be honest I always go through a slight low point this time of the year but it has just hit me a little harder this year. I feel so close to everything that I've ever wanted and yet at the same time it all seems to be thousands of miles away. Is this the duality of man? The feeling of everything happening all at once right along side with complete isolation. I know I'm must sound like a person who has completely lost the plot so to speak. I wish I could say that it was the first time I sound or felt like this. There was a funny thing that happened to me an hour ago. I was looking through some paperwork to get for my boss that just got me a gig a few days ago and I stumble upon an envelope that said important docs. I had forgotten what was in the envelope because, well because I forget things a lot.(can't wait for that early onset dementia diagnoses) And when I emptied out the envelope there was my passport that I had just spent all of he last thirty minutes looking for. (On a side note, if you want to talk about a terrible picture that makes me look like a person that kidnaps little kids, that would be my passport photo) But what I found along side of my passport is why I'm writing this.
Among my important docs were my passport, my social security card, photo booth pictures of me and my closets friends from my best friends wedding, and a NBA finals home game 1 ticket to the 2012 NBA Playoffs. It is quite funny and on other levels quite pathetic that these are the things that I hold of most importance to me right now as a almost 29 year old male. I feel as though that I am a really stunted individual at this point in my life. But then there is this other side of me that finds it incredibly interesting to think about what will be in my important docs envelope 5 years from now, and also what would have been in my important docs envelope 5 years ago. I guess just a little food for thought. Anyway, I don't know if any of that made since to anyone but me, I guess I'm glad I'm back in the saddle again writing the weirdest thoughts in the world out for all 5 of you out there to read. If you haven't had a chance to go see this movie you should. It speaks volumes to my generation.
Let me preface this whole thought, or statement that you are about to read by saying this plan and simple. I know that I have lived and am living a charmed life. My parents have always bent over backwards two times to make sure I had everything that I ever needed. And even though I am the world biggest nerd and klutz and just awkward person in general most of the time I was blessed with this ability to find my groove and I have always been able to find and keep amazing friends. So know that I have thrown that all out there I feel that it is safe to say that being me has not come without consequences, and sometimes all I can say is that it just downright sucks. And really yesterday seemed to be the culmination of a life spent being ME. I don't want this to be a long story so really I'm going to try to only hit the highlights, but lets face it once I get going I can be a tad long winded. So yesterday I woke up on the right side of the bed. The air smelt sweeter, I felt totally refreshed, and I started the morning off with a great movie by the name of LOOPER. (If you haven't seen this movie, shame on you, and go see as soon as possible) Then I get a phone call from a friend of mine Cooper Hagedorn and the rest as they say is history. And by HIStory I mean MYstory that you are about to here right now. So Cooper has a friend that is shooting a rap video and he needs some PA help for the day, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to meet some people and to just stay busy and keep myself motivated. So I get to set out in Santa Monica and everything is great. All the people on set are awesome and I just love it. This is the world that I love. I love being on a set, I love helping to create something that is special. Even if it's not special to me, I know that it's special to somebody and I get to be a part of it. So the hours a rolling by and everything is going great. We are getting the set ready to shoot, and we even set up for the shots we were going to do later that night. We Blacked out all the windows in the house so that we could start with some early shots, and everything was going to plan except for one thing. A piece of the paper that we had used o place out the kitchen window was falling down and basically I was the only one tall enough to put it back up. And this is when I basically "Brundoned" the situation as Cory Williamson would say. (Brundon is the alternate version of myself that is basically super lame, and pretty dorky, according to Cory) Sorry for all the filler. So I go outside and attempt to put the paper back up. Now there is a wooden stool out there for me to stand on, but to be honest I'm not to comfortable with it because it seems to be a little unsteady. So I go around the house looking for something better to stand on, but low and behold I cannot find a thing. So of course against my better judgement I begin to test out the stool. And after extensive and scientific tests for about a minute and a half I made an assessment that it was safe to climb the stool and put the paper back up. There are mistakes that you make in life and then there are mistakes. I would say that this was the former and the latter. Now I'm up on the stool trying to keep my balance and trying to put the paper up at the same time. And as I reach to put it up, and as I just about had it I hear a subtle cracking. Yes it was the stool breaking right underneath me. So I of course do what any person in my situation would do, I instantly panic and decided to jump from he stool. But as I am what I would call jumping backwards my foot gets caught sending me tumbling down somewhat and as I try to catch myself I hear my shorts tearing right at the crouch. In my head I all I can think is of course this would happen to me, and that thought was instantly erased by the feeling of me hitting the ground. And as I lay there dirty, defeated, and shorts split right up the crotch all I could think was that I...am...not...Cary Grant. Now that is not really what I was thinking but I think you get the point, and really I'll speak more on that in a second. I pick myself up, dust myself off, and look down and my shorts to check the damage. And they are really bad. Like really, really bad. And just then a girl that is working on production comes outside to see me hunched over holding my crotch and she asks me what is wrong. I do my best to play it off but I eventually give in and tell her I have split my pants up the crotch. And she's great about it telling me we can us gaffer tape and fix it right up. And I think to myself well maybe this will work out after all. Now upon her suggestion I go into the bathroom and take off my shorts and give them to here to try and patch up. And as I stand in a perfect strangers bathroom that I had just met in my underwear I looked into the mirror and thought to myself... I...am...not...Sidney Poitier. She does the best with what she has and I'm back to work with shorts that have been taped up and I'm doing my best to make a joke out of the whole situation with people that I had just met. And to be honest I'm doing a great job at it because lets face it this is not the first time something like this has happened to me. Everything is fine now and I'm trying my best to just push through it and be about the work and not about the fact that my pants just split open and the tape job that was just performed is not holding up. And it is at this point that I find myself holding my crouch, but I'm doing the work and I am determined to push through it. It is at this very moment, that the director of the video and the girl that helped with the tape just come outside with a worried look on their faces and tell me I should probably go home and get a change of shorts. And this is the moment when the self deprecating doubt sets in. And I think these poor people that I met must be freaked out by the guy that his been flashing them for about an hour. At this point I don't want to drive home to get shorts because home is about an hour away, so I decided to find a target in an area that I don't know at about 4:45. What a mistake. So after about 25 minutes of being flustered in traffic trying to find a place to by shorts I just say fuck it, I'll go home and grab a pair. Now I'm on the 405 freeway at about 5:15 trying to make it home in standstill traffic. So let the meltdown begin. And that is exactly what I did, I had a complete meltdown on the 405 and I'm sure that some people driving home after a hard days work got quite a show from me. So an hour and a half later I make it back to my place and I just decide I am done with this day. My buddy Cooper talks me into going out for a drink and I do and it was such a good time, but while I was out with him I talked to him about this very concept that I shall now talk to all of you about. I know exactly the me that I am. I've always been that me for my entire life and I have learn to make it a strength rather than a weakness. But why can't sometimes or really just for once I be the me that I always wanted to be. Why can't I be the Cary Grant, Sidney Poitier, Humphrey Bogart, or the Han Solo. Why can't I just be the cool and classic and debonair person for once. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind being me. It builds character being the person the falls out of chairs at a cookout or being the guy that falls off the stool and splits his pants up the crouch, but you know sometimes I'd just like to be that other guy. Is that really too much to ask for. So yesterday was a bad day, but that's okay because the bad ones make you more thankful for the good ones. I hope you all enjoyed it, just another day in the life of Brandon Ponder.
Have you ever had a day in your life that after it was over you thought to yourself how could anything have mattered before this day. I remember having a feeling when I played baseball that I was the luckiest person in the world to get to go out and play a game that I loved everyday. I know the feeling when I sit down in the movie theater is something like a spiritual cleansing that makes everything in the world make sense. But just last Saturday I had a feeling that was something that I hadn't quite felt before. This entire year I have listened to people talk and read on Facebook about all kinds of concerts and just how great they were or how great they are going to be. The Beyonce concert, Bruno Mars, Jason Boland, and how no one can wait until Mumford and Sons comes into town. And let me just say that I believe that all those concerts were great, and the performances were probably fantastic. But last Saturday I went to a concert and it was more than anything I could ever imagine. It was transcendent. I got the pleasure of going to see the great John Williams and the L.A. Philharmonic play with none other than Mr. Cooper Hagedorn. Some of you may not know who that is so let me enlighten you. He is probably the greatest living film composer, and for that matter just the greatest film composer period. With such films as Jaws,Star Wars, Indiana Jones, E.T., Superman, Hook, War Horse, Lincoln, and so many more. To say the man is a musical genius is just an understatement. And I got to sit in a stadium with thousands of people and watch and listen to him preform. When I die and I'm up in heaven kicking it with Jesus talking about the many mysteries of life, like how he did it with boobs and just how great they are, I know that I will be listening the the many wonderful scores of John Williams. Now that I'm thinking back on it all the day feels kind of like a blur from the cook out, to the pool party, and then the concert. It was such an amazing day all around and I was just the perfect amount of drunk by the time we got to the concert and it will be a memory that I hold in my heart for as long as I am alive. In the first half of the show he played the score from The Pink Panther. I know that you all know that tune and when it started up tears streamed down my face, because I was instantly transformed back to my childhood sitting in the living room on a boring Sunday playing with my Ninja Turtles on the floor while my dad cracks up laughing watching The Pink Panther on A&E. And that is exactly what the night became. Me being transported back in time to all these beautiful moments that I had just assumed were gone forever. And I realize now that those moments will never be lost. I know that I will eventually get older, or at least I hope that's the case. And as bad as my memory is now I'm sure I'll have some sort of dementia or worse, but I know I'll never lose those memories. Not as long as I can turn on some John Williams. In the second half of the concert he played selections from Indiana Jones and of course Star Wars, and what do you know I was in tears again. Transported back in time once more to when I was a kid and the hero inside of me was alive and well. And I'd run around the house and the yard pretending I was a Jedi. Knowing in my young heart of hearts that I was going to save the world someday, because of course the world needed saving and I would be just the man for that job when I got older. It's a funny thing remembering that young boy who wanted to save the world and then waking up everyday and looking in the mirror at the man who is just trying his best to exist in it. Well not anymore. I don't think I'll ever be the same after listening to that concert Saturday night and thank god for that. I think it's time for me to be the man that wants to save the world instead of just existing in it. I think I owe that boy that much. I also owe one Cooper Hagedorn, and not for inviting me to the concert, but for being the person sitting next to me in the stands yelling out, "DO IT JOHN, PLAY E.T.!" And what would you know he did just that. I'll never forget the night I sat and listened to John Williams and the L.A. Philharmonic. It was a perfect moment in time for me. I don't know how many more of those moments I'll get in life, but I do know that I will take them as they come and be damn thankful for every single one of them.
So I've basically had this one locked and loaded for quite a while now but I just couldn't get myself to write it and for some reason I woke up today and thought to myself this is something that I need to say. So let me tell you from the start that this is probably about to get heavy, so this is your official warning right now to stop reading if you can't handle the personal thoughts of a somewhat mad man. (But seriously I need more people reading this so you should totally read the whole thing.) So the following is something that I really haven't told very many people, if any really. These could quite be some of the most personal thoughts that you read on this blog. It all started a couple of months ago. I was watching one of my favorite shows, and one of my favorite story arcs on said show. The show is How I Met Your Mother and the story arc is when Marshall's dad dies. There is an episode when they all go to the funeral and they are talking about last words. As in the last words you'll ever hear or talk to someone you love. This episode always strikes a nerve with me, but mostly that is because I am a bit of a sap. And by sap I mean to say that, I cry a lot. But something really started to stir up in me. Maybe it is because I'm so many miles away from home or maybe it is because I am finally doing something in my life that I feel matters but something that I have sort of hid down deep came up in me and I began to cry uncontrollably. I'm talking little boy in his room that was just told he couldn't go to the arcade crying uncontrollably. The crazy thing is I really didn't know why. I mean I had seen this episode a number of times and while it always makes me cry a bit, it is nothing like this. I had to really examine my feelings and when I stopped and really started to think about everything. And the truth is that every time, every single time I watch this episode or this story arc it makes me think of my grandfather. Now the thing about my grandfather you have to realize is, that he is the single greatest person I've ever met in my life. I know that sounds a little bias but I assure you that this is not the case. Ask anybody who knew him or ever met him and I'll guarantee you they will say the same. A couple of years ago my mom told me a story about me and him. How my grandfather who was always suppose to be on some special kind of diet would always get in trouble with my grandmother because he always had a secret stash of Oreos or Peanut M&Ms for me and him, and when he would get caught he would always explain that he bought them because of how much I liked them. I don't remember any of this of course because I was just a little kid and I just don't have the best of memories when it comes to anything really, but the funny thing about it all is that Oreos and Peanut M&Ms are pretty much my two favorite sweet treats to this day. But that is not why I'm writing this. Not to tell you a hokey story about me and my grandfather (which is pretty much the cutest thing ever if you ask me). No the real reason I'm writing this is because there is a story that I don't think to many people know and I wanted to tell it to emphasize the over all importance of last words. So at a very weird and emotionally charged time in my life. The end of what I thought would be this great baseball career, my struggle with college, and the overall feeling of uncertainty in my life. Right at this very point my grandfather died. Now my grandfather was a spectacular man and he lived the best and fullest life that any man can live. He served in the military, he raised a family, and he was married to the love of his life for over 60 years if I'm not mistaken. He was a man that truly left this earth a better place than it was before he got here, which in my opinion is the single greatest thing any person can do on this earth. And when he was gone I remember being very sad, and I cried a lot when I found out. Now the crazy thing about it all is at least for me it was to be expected. I mean my grandfather had already had multiple heart surgeries and almost exactly a month before he passed away my grandmother had passed. I was sad because I couldn't remember the last conversation that me and him had. I've thought about it so much since he's passed driving myself crazy over the fact, and to tell you the truth I've hated myself for quite sometime because of it. Now I know that it wasn't a fight or anything because that was never what my grandfather and my relationship was about. Our relationship was about him talking to me telling me this fantastic stories or teaching me things about life without really trying to teach me. So I'm sure at the end of our last conversation I hugged him and told him I loved him and he told me he loved me like he always did, but I just couldn't remember it. And the funny thing is that right before he died I had plan to go into the city and talk to him. My faith had been challenge for sometime at that moment in my life, but I had this need to get back what I had lost and I knew that he was the person to do it. I knew that he would have or know the things to say to get me to where I needed to go. And for whatever god awful and stupid ass reason I didn't make time to go see him. I was too busy doing whatever dumb fucking thing I'm sure I always did to drive into the city and talk to my grandfather about my faith. And then it was too late and I never will get that chance. There are a million things in life to regret, things left unsaid, chances you didn't take, opportunities that you missed out on. But let me just tell you out of all the things that have happened to me in life, that is the thing that I regret the most. And it has taken me some time to get past the regret of it all. I know that my grandfather was proud of me and that he loved me. And I know that he is looking down on me right now with all the patience in the world that only he has or had. So that really not the point. The point is that last words matter, they just do. And it matters that to me at least that I can't remember the last words I said to my grandfather or that he said to me. And it really kind of sucks because I have so many wonderful memories of the two of us, even the memories that I can't really remember. So if any of you are out there still reading this and have listened to me go on and on let me just say again that last words are important. And really and truly you don't know when it'll be the last time you talk to someone. Because things in life change in an instant. So my advice to you is to always tell the ones that are close to you that you love them, even when you are mad at them, even when you can't stand them. Because we just never truly know when the words we say will be our last. For my grandfather: Miss you ever day, and I hope I'm just like you when I eventually grow up.
