I found this picture last week and had to blog about it.

Before I became the thirty one year old, father of one, "Daddy" to many, friend to few, harsh, in-your-face and that's- the way it's gonna be, asshole- jerk who loves great shoes, overpriced jeans, wanking off and hot men, fag about town. Way before the obsessive compulsive disorder, the take D to soccer practice on Tuesdays & Thursdays, the numerous deployments to the Middle East and finally figuring out what everyone was laughing at behind my back (and sometimes in my face).
I was this guy.
This fresh- faced, almost 21, vulnerable, straight outta Texas, thought he knew everything boy who, apparently, liked flannel, getting hammered and letting some dofus sailor take a picture of him throwing one back.
This picture was taken on February 8, 1995. I'd been in the Navy for just under one year and was yet to deploy overseas for the first time (that would be in May 1995). During a port visit down to San Diego from Washington State (years later, This Man would move to San Diego), some buddies and I ventured down to Tijuana (my first and last time going down there) to do some heavy drinking and girl-chasing (months later, This Man would end up married to you-know-who). We ended up in a club called Peoples on Revolution Avenue smack dead in the party district of TJ. Since it was also college weekend, there were more students from San Diego in town than there were locals. It was Arabian night at Peoples and everyone that came in was given a flourescent colored rag and string to tie on your head (hence the outrageous head gear). Though I can't recall what that was that I'd chugged down in the pic (Long Island Ice Tea?), I can say that I remember some parts of this night. It was heavy drinking, a bunch of groping, tequilla poppers and some lewd behavior that This Man doesn't care to rehash. It was a bunch of sailors, crammed into a shuttle van trying to get back to Naval Air Station North Island before curfew. The night also was a bunch of drunks from an aircraft carrier fighting and one poor girl who just couldn't hold it. And finally it was staggering down the pier and up the brow--to the wrong ship!
It was good times, baby!
So staring at this picture for a while and with a big grin, This Man got to thinking about that guy and how he morphed into This Man. It's been quite a journey but whenever I think about it, I wouldn't change one thing.


Mahalo