Category Archives: Crescently Pipe Dreams

The hair-brain, daydream-fueled schemes that get us through the day.

Existentially Anxious Beginnings part 3; The Charter

As the late afternoon sun got its evening on, we Crescent Boys got our scribble on. Me and my bros, we’re not just any pack of hooligans, and we certainly aren’t hippies. So of course, our dream began by drawing up a charter. Every great organization needs a charter. Magna had one when it invented America. Enron likely had one when they tried to destroy America. But I digest. Dairy. Slowly. And I’m just like 75% of you, you lactose intolerants. Man, I can’t tolerate you people. But I digress, for serious this time.

The square table we sat at juxtaposed the not-so-square things we were writing down. The glass surface was the kind with the little contact lens-shaped textured-rounds on top. The edges and legs were simple and white, like the kind sitting poolside at yacht clubs all around the country. If you’re from Detroit, I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to take my word for it. Oh, and yeah, if you drew some witty parallel between the description of the table edges and legs, and the people who frequent yacht clubs, that was all me. All me. But like I said, the table wasn’t smooth, so it made quality penmanship difficult. And while I value penmanship more than marksmanship, nothing is more valuable than my fleet of man-friendships. By now I have surely won your trust with humor, so do read on.

The Charter detailed the nature of our organization and the founding principle that we want to live our lives according to our dreams, not the dreams of others. To play, work, live and be with friends and family, enjoying our finite time together. My dream comes with three fundamentals:

1) Sail away. Sailing a catamaran throughout the world with a handful of my closest friends, exploring and experiencing all that is out there. Hopefully in the process we’d learn more about this world, our place in it, and find meaning and purpose for our selves.  See the world, taste her foods, surf her waves, and meet her children.

2) Be my own boss. Yes, this is a dream for many. Yes, this is often a grass-greener-type of a dream. The thing is, it’s been possible for years and is only increasingly so, what with a down economy and plenty of technology to leverage. Specifically [and as a current law student], I’d like to start my own law practice, and work part time, sail part time, and live full time. It’d be a digital law firm and I’d be a virtual attorney. I’d work from almost anywhere.

3) Living simply and peacefully. When I zoom out to the big picture of my life and ultimate death, little is of any significance to me. Aside from friends, family, and my time with them, everything that comes in between feels like a distraction or waste of time. I just want to get rid of the unimportant crap; clutter, distractions and fleeting pursuits. By living simply, I want to be mindful and in the moment- something that goes hand-in-hand with my oceanic aspirations. I want to live harmoniously and contribute more than I take.

Trim the sails, and knot the ropes- let’s set sail!

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Posted by on September 16, 2011 in Crescently Pipe Dreams


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Existentially Anxious Beginnings part 2; Dreams of a Crescent Boy

After four years of playing around at USC, I returned home to Hawaii for graduate school. Three months deep into the semester, I had to call a timeout. I sent a text out to the boys requesting a board meeting. Needless to say, all duly obliged. Tony Aloha showed up first with a case of Kona Brews, a few lippers, and a round of one-liners. Tony Aloha ladies and gentlemen. Kirkles and Raw Dog Paul showed up shortly after and just before sundown. They brought the fun pants.

I forgot to mention exactly where home was. Some call my backyard the world’s biggest saltwater pool. Others say something about a playground, and more will mention paradise. I live on the windward side of Oahu, where the ocean, beaches, and mountains make it not only the most beautiful side of the island, but one of the most beautiful places in the world. I live on the beach, in the Crescent of Content. This is where the morning sun rises just beyond the two small yet iconic islands. About a mile off the coast of Oahu, these twin islands greet me everyday, reminding me why it’s okay to be living with your parents at twenty-three.

As I was saying, the board convened by the seawall overlooking the Mokuluas, libations in hand. The sun slowly withdrew its presence, and the meeting commenced as any other proper meeting. After a little cooler talk and an hour of minutes, we got underway. “Gentlemen,” I said, “let’s talk about the itch.” Aloha, as always, looked nervous and confused. Paul saw this and comforted, “your cool T, I didn’t tell them about the chubby redhead”. This was sufficient to quell Tony’s concern. But that was just Tony Aloha, ladies and gentlemen. Anyways, the itch had to to with my existential anxiety and what we were going to do in life.

“To always chase the moments that beat the dogged day,” professed Big T, “and run a burrito wagon.” Kirkles wanted our friendships to sustain and Paul wanted to sail around the world. Just then, a biggie/the xx mashup pulsated through the bose, and changed forever. “Fuck it,” I shouted, “lets just do it all.” At that, we all leaned back for a second, staring into the starry sky. The scene reflected off our eyes’ sheen as we soaked it all in.

“I mean, we live in the most epic place on earth, we fish, surf, sail, hike, and are surrounded by beautiful friends and family,” I explained. Kirk chimed in, “and we party”. Reflective and serious, Tony followed, “yeah, and we’re real good at it”. And we really were.

While partying at a sandbar (think natural oceanic formation) in the middle of a bay in the pacific, a visitor from the continental US observed Tony Aloha opening one beer with a second beer. Needless to say, the visitor was amazed. Not because the act of using one bottle to open another is exceedingly difficult, but because of the symbolism represented in the opening of beer with more beer. Times was not hard.

And this was our life in the Crescent of Content.

Just to be clear, the Crescent isn’t all play and no work. It’s just all fun. The general consensus we reached was to simply get our shit done and ball out the rest of our lives. Why couldn’t we be sailing around the south pacific with a boat full of friends, laughing, surfing, and living a dream in ten years? We were determined to combine what we loved doing with what you gotta do to pay the old mortgage.

Our youth is not to be wasted while we’re young, for we are Crescent Boys.

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Posted by on May 20, 2011 in Crescently Pipe Dreams


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Existentially Anxious Beginnings part 1; We the Millenials

The coffee table was low, modern, and smelt of privilege. The debris scattered across the table confirmed this. A couple trendy watches, various controllers, and a few artisan wood coasters. Several receipts detailed part of the night’s binges. An odd amount of cash knew the rest, but said nothing. It was among these nocturnal remains that the boys and I discussed the gravity of existence.

Casually gathered around the black, worn-but-cheek coffee table, we spent the early hours of our hangover considering life’s more philosophical questions. Of course, those of us who inexplicably and consistently wake up before eight after a heavy night of drinking are of a different breed. Young Jim wasn’t due up for at least another four or five hours. Beauty sleep was key. Carl, no doubt, was out cold after some sort of promiscuous conquering. Kid pulled chicks, but guy wore skin-thin man-gerie. Real head case that bro.

Rising rays cast into the dim living room, humid with booze and left-out take-out. As we aired our thoughts, I felt the rivers of youth’s assurances slowly run dry. I wanted to do so much in my short life, yet was in position to pursue so little. I was twenty-two and I felt immobile, like I was just spinning my wheels. I took the LSAT, applied to law schools, was awaiting decisions, and would tell you straight faced that I did not want to be a lawyer. After four years of undergrad and over two-hundred grand, I still couldn’t tell you what I wanted to do. What was three more years going to do?

I was existentially anxious. I wasn’t happy with where I thought I was going and didn’t know how to get where I wanted to be. Where I wanted to be was anywhere but one place: in a nine-to-five, drive-in-traffic, sit-in-an-office, working-for-the-weekend, job. My parents live in one of the most beautiful places in all of the world, and spend the majority of their days at work. But there are waves to be surfed, beers to be drank, and good times to be had.

I want to travel the US in a Winnebago performing a radio show with my friends. No joke, I’m gonna sail the south pacific and surf her firing lineups, then open a coffeehouse-bar-lounge-blogosphere. The theme is freedom…you get the idea. Cliché? Yes. Fleeting feeling? Hopefully not. The question was how.

Nothing a few millenials couldn’t figure out.

We millennials grew up too young to understand, too old to forget. The world around us moved rapidly—quicker than it ever had before. Sure the advent of trains, planes, and dial-up must have been amazing to see, but those took years, days and hours. We’re talking seconds today. Twitter revolts, Facebook addictions, and YouTube celebrities. Dont’ believe me? Then google it. And go google yourself while you’re at it.

Society’s evolving faster than ever. Pushed ahead by the world before us, we millenials get stuck on a cusp, always on the verge of something better. Life’s been one upgrade after another, a beta-version purgatory that knows no satisfaction. This has made us disillusioned with who we thought we were. Never what we thought we’d become. And too impatient for anything less than instant gratification.

Unlike kids these days, we millinials recall a much simpler time in life. We remember when the Internet was named AOL, came on CDs and lasted fifty hours. None of this in your pocket, in your palm, unlimited crap. We remember when the Internet did as it pleased—dropping a critical error message here, a fatal script there—all without rhyme or reason. But it made us tougher, and it gave us character.

Take my iPhone away, and I’ll still be able to find my way back home. Find a number on the go? I know how to dial 411. Just don’t ask me where the nearest five-star eatery is located. I can’t take all the credit for my many non-digital prowess though. Mostly, I owe it to my parents. They had the great foresight to pop me out in the eighties. Well, the sort-of eighties. We’ll call it the latter third. And at twenty-three years of age, I’ve already lived through three decades. I’d say that officially makes me an old soul. No way around it. Not to mention my hairline is rapidly receding, but that’s besides the point.

The point is, that we grew up as technology evolved at the speed of broadband. Or the other way around. But we were there from the start, and it is we who are technology’s rightful masters.

So here’s the take home for all you greatest generationers, boomers, and Gen X-ers:

Parents, teachers, and upstanding members of society- thank you for the introduction, but I cannot, and will not, accept your reality. I’m going to blog, facebook, text, and stream my way to the life I want to live.

Yeah, I’m a millennial—but I am much more than the sum of my apps.

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Posted by on January 6, 2011 in Crescently Pipe Dreams


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