WHOAA-OHHHHH-OHHHHH-OH-OHHHHH…. OHHHH-OH-OHHHHHH-OH-OHHHHHHH… OHHHHH-OHHHH.

This simple chant that serves as the chorus to MakeWar’s “Not Today” has been in my head all summer, and never more than when it’s 6:15 in the morning and I’m swimming laps outdoors against the backdrop of a rising sun on a beautiful Denver summer day.

I rediscovered my love of lap swimming thanks to a new pool membership this year that has been the shining light of the summer. I grew up in a pool. I spent virtually every single summer day of my youth at the pool, and stepping back into my new pool club feels like stepping into a time machine. Everything about this place feels like it could be straight out of 2002 or 1994 or 1986. Some things are timeless, and having a snack shack staffed by 12 year-olds that sell you Otter Pops for 10 cents only serves to supercharge these lovely feelings of nostalgia.

It’s an exceedingly basic pool that sits on a former military base, something that every guest with military service in their background that I have invited has pointed out to me very quickly. They can tell it’s a USO officers’ pool because the roofs are flat and uniform in height and we’re surrounded by old barracks (which now serve as some sort of British boarding school). Nice trees dot the grassy areas. Dozens and dozens of lounge chairs surround the deck. The pool is an anachronistic 30 yards that comfortably houses four lanes, and uncomfortably 6. The length of the pool bows out at the sides making the overall shape look like the pool is at the start of getting crushed by a hydraulic press. The bathrooms and showers feel like they haven’t been updated in at least 30 years.

 It’s a lovely place that has my heart, but I can’t help but think a bit of this tweet:

So much in our culture is manicured and branded and optimized to empty your pockets within an inch of its life that it’s nice when you find something that capitalist ghouls haven’t sunk their grubby little talons into, enshittified, and therefore ruined. Think of what Bowlero has done bowling alleys all across the country. Bowling used to be cheap as hell and charmingly shabby. Your neighborhood bowling alley was probably owned by a guy who never, ever wanted to get a real job and sort of just ended up owning this by virtue of just being there all the time because he liked drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and hanging out with the other no-hopers in your community. That guy ruled because he had to maintain the alley to ensure a predictable and quality level of play, but he didn’t have finance jock brain geared toward perpetually increasing and maximizing profits as part of a bizarre impulse to mine every single aspect of society for a positive return to the richest (and therefore dullest) poseurs among us. He just made sure the pinsetter worked, the lanes were oiled, there were cheap hot dogs and shitty nachos at the snack bar, and the bar was always well-stocked with Budweiser and Smirnoff.

Been to a Bowlero lately? It’s like walking into a Dave & Buster’s that’s somehow even worse. Neon lights, cheap clip art animations on the screens, somehow BOTH Stephen A. Smith and The fucking Chainsmokers on giant screens that visually shout at you, crappy food that pretends to be artisan (Oooooohhhh southwestern egg rolls! *fart noise*), and $200 later, you wonder what you just spent your money on because the place literally has 3 people working there to serve 40 lanes.

Our swim club is unspoiled by all that. There’s no TVs, just some music lightly playing over a PA system. High school-aged lifeguards dutifully watch the swimmers and sometimes get tested on their life saving skills. No food trucks. No bar with craft cocktails. No stupid power card you have pump money into so your kids can spend $25 in under 10 minutes playing a rigged claw machine and lousy video games.

It’s analog, and analog is becoming one of my favorite genres of everything. We show up at the pool with our cooler, some snacks, a bag of towels and pool toys, and that’s it. We’re just a family enjoying the sun, the water, and each other. It’s the easiest parenting I do, and I’m surrounded by people of a similar ethos. This club is not super visible, and feels like a secret. It’s beautiful.

It reminds me of an extension of our Christmas trip to Hawaii. We went to the beach, the pool or both every single day in Maui. We just had each other, a few necessities, and the water. My kids want to yell at the ocean, play in the surf, dig in the sand, and be in the sun. I thought COVID had permanently robbed me of some of the joy I can possibly extract from parenting, which made me despair in a way I don’t despair about anything else. Re-connecting with my kids while playing in the water has restored it, and for that I am extremely grateful.

I went back and re-read some of these previous entries I write every year on my birthday. In my 30s nearly every one of them alluded to a “difficult year” (or just said that outright) and as I reflect on it, I can’t help but chuckle a bit. Granted, when I was 33 Grace was born and I got laid off from corporate in what marks a pretty substantial pivot point in my own personal journey, so I suppose it’s only natural that I’d frame my years as challenges considering I was getting my feet underneath me both as an entrepreneur and a parent. But time has a funny way of flattening out your memories, and I think back on the past largely with gratitude and joy.

It’s because I know now more than ever that joy is a choice. Since my last birthday, I have had two surgeries, dealt with health challenges for both my parents and mother-in-law, supported my wife through her own health journey, and attempted to continue to mold my children into versions of themselves that hopefully are well-equipped to experience joy, fulfillment, and success, all while maintaining my business. It’s a lot. And any given day is bound to throw me something specially designed to fuck me up to my core.

But whereas I used to fixate on the things that didn’t go right and allow it to dictate my entire mood, I’m actively working to focus on the many blessings and joys of my life, and I have many. I am living a life younger me would be intensely excited for, and one that hopefully future me looks back on with satisfaction and reverence. I won’t lie to you and say that money doesn’t matter. It does. I’m fortunate that I’ve found success and that money isn’t something I’m forced to worry about in a way that so many have to.

What I will say is that my financial success is a by-product of being truest to myself. I do work I find fulfilling, work with people I like, respect and admire, and lean into that which most makes me, me. Because if we’re not aspiring to the most authentic version of ourselves, we’re doing ourselves a disservice. I realized some time ago that one of the most valuable commodities I have is my bizarre and unique sensibility. People crave the unique alchemy that makes our personalities what they are.

This is why I hate Bowlero and love my swim club. Modern life has too much of the whimsy sucked out of it, and my goal is restore it. I wrote about this pretty extensively last year, but whimsy is the animating force of something like our annual beer pong tournament or Music Video Theatre. Injecting some off-kilter, non-utilitarian joy into our lives is something we all deserve and something we could all use more of. Choosing joy isn’t always easy, but becomes easier if we’re able to dial back the complexity of our lives and focus on simple pleasures.

The mornings I sat in my car this summer listening to MakeWar’s A Paradoxical Theory of Change album or anything by Bad Year or Tegan and Sara before I hopped in the pool to dutifully follow the black stripe underneath me are my favorites. Then I’d swim a mile, gliding through the cool water moving my body and allowing my brain to go into something akin to your computer’s Sleep Mode. Without being fully cognizant of it, my brain processed what it needed to while my body got some incredible exercise. I emerged from the pool each of these mornings renewed, refreshed and grateful.

The last words of “Not Today” by MakeWar are as follows.

Singing about it
Will help you detach
From that sick feeling of hopelessness
That’s still around
Sing it with me
Sing it loud
Sing until your lungs are empty
Then take a deep breath
And hold it, and hold it
Think about all those good times
That we lost
When we were trapped
In our mental cages
Is this bumming you out?
Oh, it’s bumming me out!
Now take it outside!
Watch all the birds
Then, take your first step
I hope you feel great
I hope you find all
The answers you need
I hope you end up
Wherever you wanted to be
I hope you feel strong
Because I know you’re strong

Wherever you are, thank you for being a part of my life. I wish you health, happiness, peace, fulfillment, joy and whimsy in your own life. And mostly I hope you’re able to rock out. Here’s this year’s list.

1-2-3-4!

WHOAA-OHHHHH-OHHHHH-OH-OHHHHH…. OHHHH-OH-OHHHHHH-OH-OHHHHHHH… OHHHHH-OHHHH.

1. “Not Today” by MakeWar
2. “Cerebral” by Bad Year
3. “California” by Delta Spirit
4. “Grand Canyon” by The Wind and The Wave
5. “Closer” by Tegan and Sara
6. “LUNCH” by Billie Eilish
7. “Take A Bite” by beabadoobee
8. “Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is” by Ella Red
9. “The News (Re: The Linda Lindas)” by Paramore & The Linda Lindas
10. “Coma City” by Green Day
11. “Landmines” by Sum 41
12. “New Gods” by Strung Out
13. “Josie” by Blink-182
14. “Taking the Long Way” by All Waffle Trick
15. “Enshin Karate II” by The Frickashinas
16. “Originators” by Bad Cop/Bad Cop
17. “Violet” by Hole
18. “bad idea right?” by Olivia Rodrigo
19. “Ode” by MakeWar