Be Bold

I met Vanilla Ice this week.

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It was an incredible mix of awesome, hilarious, and nostalgia.

It also taught me an incredible lesson.

Be bold.

How did I get to meet Vanilla Ice, arguably the greatest pop culture icon in American history?

I asked.

That’s it.

I saw on his website that he had a tour date in Washington D.C. this week. It was listed as a “private corporate event.” My first reaction was that I need to work for whatever company hires Vanilla Ice for a work event. My second reaction was that I need to get in that event somehow.

After putting it off for a few weeks, I decided to take a chance. I found a few different email addresses online that were affiliated with Vanilla’s website or management team. I emailed them all.

And then I told my story:

I’m a 31-year old husband, lawyer, and father of twins. However, I was once the only white kid in my class. I was once a seven-year-old cruising around on a one-speed bike singing “Ice Ice Baby” all the time. I was once a guy who tried to beatbox in the back of my Spanish class and some guys called me Ice Ice Andrew. It became my AOL screen name when that was still a thing. A bunch of years later, I started a blog with the same name. I make awkward rap videos. Some lawyer friends and I recently performed “Ice Ice Baby” at a charity event that raised over $300,000 for the DC homeless.

That was the story.

It worked.

His manager told me to come by after the event. I went. I hung out with some of his team. They did shots. They asked me to join. That could only lead to trouble, so I politely declined and calmly sipped on my Corona Lite instead.

And then I talked to Vanilla Ice. For five minutes. I told him my story again. We bro hugged.

It was awesome.

Be bold.

(I do have to clear the air about one thing. Vanilla Ice is a liar. Despite his famous proclamation, he does not glow when you turn out the lights. I tested it out.)

Me and Vanilla Ice:

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Regrets

It’s almost time for Austin and Madison to make their big debuts.  Although it feels like we should be on month five or six of the pregnancy journey, we’re at Week 37 and only have a few days left.

Honestly, I’m filled with so many different emotions.  I’m infinitely excited, I’m stressed about getting the “IT’S TIME” phone call, I’m humbled that I can be a part of something so wonderful, I’m intimidated by the idea of being a role model for two living creatures, and I feel a fulfillment that I’ve never known before.

However, I also feel sad.

No, I’m not sad that we’re having kids (even though we gave up our Nationals season tickets this year because of the babies).

I’m sad that I didn’t live the last eight years to the fullest. Amanda and I are about to enter a very special season of our lives, but it is a season that will look nothing like the past decade. I’ve been becoming increasingly nostalgic about the “old” days when we ate cheap pasta 3-4 nights a week, spent our evenings watching bad reality television, and got home from work at 5:15pm.  We wandered through an Egyptian desert, hiked through Austria, and lived in Cambodia for two months.  We have a lengthy list of things we loved and appreciated about our 8+ years of childless marriage, but it’s hard not to think of the missed opportunities.  

Regrets

It would be nice to say I lived a life without any regrets, but that’s not true. However, I’ve learned from those mistakes.  After eight years of childless marriage, here’s what I wish I had done differently:

I wish I worked less.

I wish we went out to dinner more.

I wish we spent more money. Saving is great, but saving just for the sake of saving isn’t worth it. Sorry, Dave Ramsey.  #yolo

I wish I studied less in law school.

Although we went to 13 different countries, I still wish we traveled more.  There are few things more important than seeing how the other 6,999,999,999 people on this world live.

I shouldn’t have wasted so much time watching TV.  Especially “Heroes.”  That show was terrible after the first season.

I wish we went on more walks.

I wish we never spent a single second trying to blame each other for our marriage problems.

I wish we prayed together more.

I wish I spent less time looking at my phone.

I wish we didn’t walk ten miles through shady parts of Los Angeles to save $20 on a cab.

I wish we did more DC touristy stuff.

Although I didn’t drink a ton of alcohol, I still wish I drank less.

I wish we adopted a second dog. (No offense, Napoleon.)

I wish we bought a grill.  Both the cooking kind and the sweet rapper mouthpiece.

I wish I cared less about what people think and cared more about what God thinks.

I wish I never made Amanda stay at a $5 hostel in Bangkok that had poop on the wall.

Well, that’s the list.  I’m sure there are more things to add, but my metro ride is coming to an end.  I won’t sit around and wallow about those regrets, but the missed opportunities do make me feel a bit sad.  However, reflecting on such things encourages me to do better during this next stage of life.  And I’ll make sure we splurge on the $10 room next time we go to Thailand.