John Denver Omelette
There are a multitude of manners in which our dynamic and multifaceted lives can be categorized and dissected, with different influences, influences along with people and places demarcating eras and the characteristics that mean different things in our memory. One way I can divide my own life is "pre-Denver" and "post-Denver."
January 26th, 2003 was a Sunday. It was the day after it became clear that my first real, and long term relationship was finally over. After a long period of bullshit and lies, my girlfriend at the time finally put the finishing touches on a long drawn out 'dumping.' Don't get me wrong, I was no perfect partner during this time and looking back, learned a lot of sorely needed lessons. We had purchased a house together that we were living in while I tried to grow my young contracting business, and as such, was working long hours while she went to graduate school. It soon became clear that I needed to find a new place to live. Foolishly, I sought a short term place of residence instead of just finding my own apartment or room to rent. Through a friend of the family I met an eccentric gentleman who lived in Vancouver, Washington, which is, in essence, a suburb of Portland Oregon; the respective cities and states are separated by the mighty Columbia River as it pushes towards its mouth at Astoria where it meets the great Pacific Ocean. He worked half of the year and travelled the other half, and had been doing this for a long time. His house was filled with items from his travels and was fascinating. He also had many animals in his large backyard. A few dozen chickens and a rooster or two, five or six sheep, three or four peacocks that came and went as they pleased and a few cats depended on me for food and as for the sheep, they needed me to clean their hooves so that the soggy ground didn't cause hoof rot, which was common. I had been used to living in the throbbing heart of the city of Portland, which even at that time, was a veritable quandary of nightlife and social shenanigan milieu. And while I made many stupid decisions back then, even early twenties me knew that driving all the way to Vancouver after a few drinks was a very bad idea. I could have taken better care of those animals that winter.
I woke up that Sunday morning and I saw that the Columbia Space Shuttle had blown up, which now we know marked the end of government run space travel as we knew it and eventually sparked the private outer space industry. Another thing from that morning, when poor little me, a grown man who felt like my world had just imploded, that I remember is finding that the Portland Trail Blazers had a morning game broadcast over the air, on free broadcast television; this house did not have cable and this was before finding games on the internet was a thing I knew how to do. There was something comforting in watching that Blazer game in a strangers house, with the life I thought was still unfolding having been shut closed the day prior.
Fast forward a few months and I had my own apartment. I was on the basement level of an old apartment building between Morrison and Belmont and 14th street in southeast Portland. It was nothing if not in the heart of things back then. And I had a great skateboard ride down towards the river -- slight downhill with new pavement laid on Belmont. I would often shoot north on MLK and take the Burnside bridge into downtown as the sidewalks on that bridge were better than the Morrison Bridge. I miss pushing around Portland.
Winter turned to Spring and then came Summer. A friend with whom I had grown up with in Portland, but who's immediate family moved to Denver in the later years of highschool and gone back and forth between the two cities and I think it was around the 4th of July when he came back to visit and brought his girlfriend, who I had not previously met. We had a good time together and there was some talk of me moving to Denver, although casual in nature. At that time I hadn't really considered moving away from Portland. I liked Portland. But even at that time, despite dating a number of women, I was still not over my ex and even went through periods of avoiding the house we lived in together (it was on a busy street that I often needed to use) and driving by purposefully to catch a glimpse of her. A few times I saw her with her new boyfriend and I would lose it.
I'm sure my friends and family were tired of hearing about all of this. And, I think I was getting tired of it too. Portland, while a burgeoning metropolis is still now a very small city when travelling in certain circles and even more so back then. There was no avoiding each other even when trying. At some point I thought about shutting down the business and moving to Colorado. The office manager at the warehouse where I did most of my contracting was a good dude and I think he saw a little of himself in me, and when I mentioned what I was thinking of doing and was considering moving to Colorado he gave me his brother's contact information. His brother had been working at Copper Mountain Resort in Summit County, in Colorado, and as such was way up in the managerial level. I spoke to him a few times on the phone and I forwarded a resume to him. He promised me a good job, one that would be able to support the "ski bum" lifestyle -- and suddenly I was making solid plans to move to Denver. I was going to find temporary housing in Denver until October when my job would start in Summit County.
I showed up to Denver and my friend lived here, with a roommate. He graciously offered to stay with his girlfriend for a bit while I found a place to live. Soon I was meeting friends of friends, many of whom were going to University of Denver, as it was close by. Another friend of a friend worked at Kaladi Bros Coffee and little did I know, at that time, that it would be a major shaping influence in my life. The two owners (not brothers) taught me so much in terms of business and how to grow a small, quirky but successful endeavor without losing the elements that sparked the success in the first place. It was here that I met some of the best friends of my life, and it was here that I learned the art of coffee production -- from buying from private farmers across the world to latte art and perfecting the cappuccino foam -- yes, even with rice milk. I started working there in early August and it was soon obvious that I should just use my three days off per week to go snowboarding with friends vs actually moving to the mountains. And that is what I did. I got over 40 days that season while working nearly full time as a coffee roaster. What a great year. I called the guy at Copper Mountain and thanked him for the offer but that I would be respectfully declining.
In the coming years the shape of things to come came into view and I'm still on the trajectory I set before myself in the mid-2000's. I thought that going to undergrad and pursuing pre-med as a major would be impressive to the girls I talked to. That was the initial impetus to be a doctor. I'm written on this many times so I won't expand but, once in awhile it is important for me, in efforts to stay grounded while in the post-graduate medical education process to remember what initially set me on this path. It was no overt divine appointment or desire to benevolently bring relief to the painstricken. Doesn't mean that I don't do thing for the right reasons now, but it is a much more nuanced and complicated process than I could have imagined. Guess I'll go back to the hospital tomorrow and see about continuing to fix the screwed up health care system one patient at a time.
I miss the days of "pre-Denver" life, but am very thankful that I took that leap of faith so many years ago, as it allowed growth that would not have been as ambitious otherwise, I think. And while I can point to many forks in the road in my life, I'm pondering the Sunday morning almost exactly 15 years ago, where a new chapter had opened while I fought to keep the previous chapter from slamming shut. On the wall in the room where I watched the broadcast Blazer game from Dallas was a map that marked all the places the owner of the house had been. He had been all over the world. He had spent at least, in total, 15 years of his life travelling and exploring. I was, even at that time, gearing up for my own grand adventure. May the adventure not end until the end.
January 26th, 2003 was a Sunday. It was the day after it became clear that my first real, and long term relationship was finally over. After a long period of bullshit and lies, my girlfriend at the time finally put the finishing touches on a long drawn out 'dumping.' Don't get me wrong, I was no perfect partner during this time and looking back, learned a lot of sorely needed lessons. We had purchased a house together that we were living in while I tried to grow my young contracting business, and as such, was working long hours while she went to graduate school. It soon became clear that I needed to find a new place to live. Foolishly, I sought a short term place of residence instead of just finding my own apartment or room to rent. Through a friend of the family I met an eccentric gentleman who lived in Vancouver, Washington, which is, in essence, a suburb of Portland Oregon; the respective cities and states are separated by the mighty Columbia River as it pushes towards its mouth at Astoria where it meets the great Pacific Ocean. He worked half of the year and travelled the other half, and had been doing this for a long time. His house was filled with items from his travels and was fascinating. He also had many animals in his large backyard. A few dozen chickens and a rooster or two, five or six sheep, three or four peacocks that came and went as they pleased and a few cats depended on me for food and as for the sheep, they needed me to clean their hooves so that the soggy ground didn't cause hoof rot, which was common. I had been used to living in the throbbing heart of the city of Portland, which even at that time, was a veritable quandary of nightlife and social shenanigan milieu. And while I made many stupid decisions back then, even early twenties me knew that driving all the way to Vancouver after a few drinks was a very bad idea. I could have taken better care of those animals that winter.
I woke up that Sunday morning and I saw that the Columbia Space Shuttle had blown up, which now we know marked the end of government run space travel as we knew it and eventually sparked the private outer space industry. Another thing from that morning, when poor little me, a grown man who felt like my world had just imploded, that I remember is finding that the Portland Trail Blazers had a morning game broadcast over the air, on free broadcast television; this house did not have cable and this was before finding games on the internet was a thing I knew how to do. There was something comforting in watching that Blazer game in a strangers house, with the life I thought was still unfolding having been shut closed the day prior.
Fast forward a few months and I had my own apartment. I was on the basement level of an old apartment building between Morrison and Belmont and 14th street in southeast Portland. It was nothing if not in the heart of things back then. And I had a great skateboard ride down towards the river -- slight downhill with new pavement laid on Belmont. I would often shoot north on MLK and take the Burnside bridge into downtown as the sidewalks on that bridge were better than the Morrison Bridge. I miss pushing around Portland.
Winter turned to Spring and then came Summer. A friend with whom I had grown up with in Portland, but who's immediate family moved to Denver in the later years of highschool and gone back and forth between the two cities and I think it was around the 4th of July when he came back to visit and brought his girlfriend, who I had not previously met. We had a good time together and there was some talk of me moving to Denver, although casual in nature. At that time I hadn't really considered moving away from Portland. I liked Portland. But even at that time, despite dating a number of women, I was still not over my ex and even went through periods of avoiding the house we lived in together (it was on a busy street that I often needed to use) and driving by purposefully to catch a glimpse of her. A few times I saw her with her new boyfriend and I would lose it.
I'm sure my friends and family were tired of hearing about all of this. And, I think I was getting tired of it too. Portland, while a burgeoning metropolis is still now a very small city when travelling in certain circles and even more so back then. There was no avoiding each other even when trying. At some point I thought about shutting down the business and moving to Colorado. The office manager at the warehouse where I did most of my contracting was a good dude and I think he saw a little of himself in me, and when I mentioned what I was thinking of doing and was considering moving to Colorado he gave me his brother's contact information. His brother had been working at Copper Mountain Resort in Summit County, in Colorado, and as such was way up in the managerial level. I spoke to him a few times on the phone and I forwarded a resume to him. He promised me a good job, one that would be able to support the "ski bum" lifestyle -- and suddenly I was making solid plans to move to Denver. I was going to find temporary housing in Denver until October when my job would start in Summit County.
I showed up to Denver and my friend lived here, with a roommate. He graciously offered to stay with his girlfriend for a bit while I found a place to live. Soon I was meeting friends of friends, many of whom were going to University of Denver, as it was close by. Another friend of a friend worked at Kaladi Bros Coffee and little did I know, at that time, that it would be a major shaping influence in my life. The two owners (not brothers) taught me so much in terms of business and how to grow a small, quirky but successful endeavor without losing the elements that sparked the success in the first place. It was here that I met some of the best friends of my life, and it was here that I learned the art of coffee production -- from buying from private farmers across the world to latte art and perfecting the cappuccino foam -- yes, even with rice milk. I started working there in early August and it was soon obvious that I should just use my three days off per week to go snowboarding with friends vs actually moving to the mountains. And that is what I did. I got over 40 days that season while working nearly full time as a coffee roaster. What a great year. I called the guy at Copper Mountain and thanked him for the offer but that I would be respectfully declining.
In the coming years the shape of things to come came into view and I'm still on the trajectory I set before myself in the mid-2000's. I thought that going to undergrad and pursuing pre-med as a major would be impressive to the girls I talked to. That was the initial impetus to be a doctor. I'm written on this many times so I won't expand but, once in awhile it is important for me, in efforts to stay grounded while in the post-graduate medical education process to remember what initially set me on this path. It was no overt divine appointment or desire to benevolently bring relief to the painstricken. Doesn't mean that I don't do thing for the right reasons now, but it is a much more nuanced and complicated process than I could have imagined. Guess I'll go back to the hospital tomorrow and see about continuing to fix the screwed up health care system one patient at a time.
I miss the days of "pre-Denver" life, but am very thankful that I took that leap of faith so many years ago, as it allowed growth that would not have been as ambitious otherwise, I think. And while I can point to many forks in the road in my life, I'm pondering the Sunday morning almost exactly 15 years ago, where a new chapter had opened while I fought to keep the previous chapter from slamming shut. On the wall in the room where I watched the broadcast Blazer game from Dallas was a map that marked all the places the owner of the house had been. He had been all over the world. He had spent at least, in total, 15 years of his life travelling and exploring. I was, even at that time, gearing up for my own grand adventure. May the adventure not end until the end.
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