Steve’s Past
Steve dug through his past last week. He came across yearbooks, sports pictures, ex-files, art work, poems and a few geek collections. I felt his past and embarrassment were worth sharing with the Internet.
Steve likes to work in the garage while I’m in the kitchen. By work in the garage, I mean get rid of stuff. It drives me nuts. I’m trying to cook, while constantly having to stop to answer questions about what to keep, what to donate and where to put what we keep.
The last time Steve did this, we had a little tiff. We were both sick and had no business doing anything other than zombieing it up on the couch. I was putting all of my effort into trying to make something for dinner to sustain us until our appetites returned, and Steve was taking a trip down memory lane in his childhood things. I lost my patience over the constant interruptions, and Steve told me I was being a major butt head. After dinner, Steve explained to me that he likes to work while I’m in the kitchen because he doesn’t want to be the kind of husband that disappears into the garage for hours at a time when he’s home for work, nor does he want to be the kind of husband that sits on the couch impatiently waiting while his woman is slaving to make dinner. Instead, he likes to work in the garage while I’m cooking because we are both being productive, and since the garage is right next to the kitchen, we can chat while we work. How am I supposed to be mad at after that sweet explanation.
Anyhow, while he was digging through his childhood things (throwing most of it away), he came upon some interesting artifacts. Steve gave a little protest when I told him that I would be publicly displaying his past on the world wide web, but that protest didn’t get him far. I won – for the most part.
One of the most entertaining things he came across was a box of old love letters from his romantic endeavors in high school. Not only did he have hundreds of letters from old girlfriends and girls that desperately wanted to be his special someone, but he also had letters from friends of the girls who wanted to be Steve’s special someone certifying and notarizing that the feelings that the hopefuls were confessing to were in fact true. What a stud muffin. I really wanted to spread all of these love letters, which were naturally folded into tiny hearts, envelopes and footballs, all over the kitchen table and take a picture for public display. Steve said NO. That was part of the protest that he won.
It is important to note that right next to this box of love letters, Steve discovered his old rock collection and his prized stamp collection. I’m willing to bet a lot of money that these drooling girls had no idea that Steve was a closet geek. If any of them had any idea that he was into Dungeons and Dragons he would have a much smaller box of ex-files. If he were lucky, he might have had a letter or two from a lady geek. It’s a good thing Steve’s public imagine only consisted of the things you find in the year books – captain of the sports teams, president of this club and that club, honor student, award winner, stud muffin. He’s always been good at PR.
Steve went through all of his old school papers and projects. Most of them were thrown away without hesitation. A few things he read a couple of times, and then tossed them in the recycling with the ex-files. He saved very school works. One of which is a poem that he transformed into an essay that he included in his college applications. This poem doesn’t define Steve, he is a man of great depth – stud muffin and all, but it does describe a large part of who he is. If you know him, you know that he dreams big, he is driven, he a perfectionist, he is slightly arrogant and he wants big things out of this short life we have. Steve was kind enough to allow me to share his poem with you. Actually, if you want to really know how things went down, I told Steve he either had to hand over the ex-files or the poem. He handed me the poem and ran for the door with his box of love letters. OK it wasn’t that dramatic.
Anyhow, I present to you a literary work by Steve circa Spring 2003.
“All or Nothing”
All or Nothing
It’s my motivatoin
And keeps me dedicated
It never lets me give up
And it pushes me harder
To do my best
All or Nothing
It’s not just a few words
They’re words to live by
As for myself
It’s a way of life
Everything is either perfect
Or it needs to be
And if it’s not perfect
Then you better believe
I’ll make it perfect
Yea, yea I know
“Nothing’s perfect”
Well I’ll tell you what
If you strive for perfection
And nothing less
Then you’re giving your all
To make it the best
Perhaps you dont’ get it
Maybe you don’t understand
It’s all or nothing
It’s the way I am
Nothing can stop me
No one can get in my way
As a matter of fact
No one can even catch me
I leave them in the dust
And in their minds
I’m gone
Just simply gone
Nothing but a dream
I’d be surprised
If they even remember me
No, who am I kidding
Who could forget such a defeat
They try to give it their all
I will give them that
But they always hold back
And that little bit they save
Is what sets us apart
All or Nothing
It’s as simple as that
If you can’t give it everything
Then don’t try at all
There are no excuses
I won’t hear complaints
You had better learn it now
So I hope you’re paying attention
I’m not going to say it again
It’s all or nothing
All or Nothing
**The artwork in the picture above is another artifact Steve came across. It’s a leather art project. He’s not exactly sure when he made it. The back says “Steve Adams Period 2.” He received a check mark from the instructor with a comment of, “make middle ground trees a little bigger.” We plan to mat and frame it soon.
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