Dear Connor and Jack,
Today I want to talk to you boys about FEAR. No, not the movie where Marky Mark punches himself in the chest, though we will talk about that one day--very disturbing. I'm talking about the feeling of fear.
Some people will tell you fear isn’t real. Don’t listen to them; fear is very real. We all have things we are afraid of. Some people will tell you there is nothing to fear, but fear itself, which may be true, but that still leaves us with fear, which is pretty scary. Also, unless you heard that from Franklin D. Roosevelt, that person is totally ripping him off. Remember, boys, proper citation is paramount.*
*Uncle Kevin’s letter 2011
Right now your fear level is extremely low. Jack, you are literally fearless, your brain has yet to develop the capacity for fear. But it will, so you should fear that.
Connor, you are almost fearless, though I heard about you and the ocean. You picked a great thing to be fearful of; the ocean is a very powerful and dangerous entity filled with lurking predators and wicked undertows. If you must fear something, and you must, the ocean is a solid choice. Well done, Connor, well done.
Fears will develop over time and they are often irrational and arbitrary. One of you guys may grow up to be terrified of spiders because you watched Spider-Man when you were two and Toby Maguire's face made you pee your pants. Fears are often that ridiculous. There's no telling what will manifest into a fear one day.
I'm not great with heights. If I remember it right, and it's completely possible that I'm not, the human mind can be a tricky, but this is how I remember it. I remember pretending to be scared of heights when I was very young, just to get attention. As it turned out, no one really cared. But I pretended to be scared of heights for so long, I forgot how not to be scared anymore. So now I'm not so awesome with heights. Weird, right?
One day when I was 10 or 11 years old, I went down what at the time was a pretty intimidating hill on Carriage Way (I think erosion or something has really affected it over the years because now it looks like a pretty laughable hill, barely a hill even, closer to a speed bump) with my bike. And back then I went as fast as my bike would take me. I was fearless.
I used to do tricks on my bike. Nothing that would make the X-Games, but I had no hands, side-saddle, feet on the handlebars, riding with my eyes closed, all of these movies were in my repertoire. But on this particular day, something happened.
I don't remember exactly what made me slam my breaks at top speed, I think I was trying to avoid a stray baby holding a puppy, there's no official record, but slam the brakes I did. And over the handlebars I went. Landed face first. This was the first time I broke my nose and the first time I chipped my front tooth. Chipped is actually not accurate, I broke my front tooth in half. Gravel was embedded in my knees, hand elbows, and face. I was a bloody mess. Thankfully, our neighbor Mr. Kosmaceski saw the whole debacle go down and picked me up off the street.
Ever since that day, I didn't ride so fast, my trick were a thing of the past. I was too scared. I let the fear win. Fear kept me from being the next Cru Jones.
You may be asking yourselves, “Why would uncle Kevin start talking to us about fear? We’re very young. This seems like a terrible idea. Also, those last couple of stories are pretty embarrassing. We're kinda losing respect for you.” Well, I’ve been thinking about fear a lot lately, you see. Let me give you guys a little insight into my current world. (Just a little. Anymore than that would not please your parents. )
Today, as a sort of company retreat, I’ll be participating in an exercise that involves a 15 minute training session followed by strapping on a parachute, hopping into a two person plane with a pilot, ascending into the sky where I will use what I learned in the previously mentioned training session (All 15 minutes!) to take control of this plane and attempt to mock-dogfight my co-workers.
That’s right, Jack, just like in Top Gun. Very astute observation.
Now, I know what your thinking, and yes, Las Vegas is a strange place, and yes, your uncle has a
strange job, and yes, it does sound awesome.
Not only are we pretending to shoot each other down, but we’ll also be doing loop-de-loops, barrel rolls, and stalls—a stall is when you fly the plane straight up in the air until the engine stalls and you free fall toward the Earth.
This is what I’m doing today. Probably right now as you’re reading this. And though I imagine I will be once I strap on that parachute, I’m not scared right now. But I will be…I will be.
I’m generally a good flyer, but being a good flyer and being good at flying are two entirely different
skill sets. In fact, being a good flyer isn’t a skill at all, it’s just the ability to keep your mind on something other than falling from the sky and keeping the food you’ve eaten inside of you. I’m pretty good at both of those aspects of flying, with the one exception being the time I flew with the flu and puked on a man’s seat as he was forced to catch me while I lost my equilibrium—the whole plane looked at me like I gave them bird flu, but more likely I just ruined their trip to Vegas.
Being good at flying, well, that I have to assume is more difficult than being a good flyer. Though my concentrations will be similar:
1. Not falling out of the sky and
2. Not puking all over myself
If I can make it through this dogfight without having done those two things, I will have won the war. Also, I would like to win the dogfight. If I win, don’t puke, and don’t have to use my parachute…call me Leo DiCaprio, cause I’ll be king of the world.
I will accomplish my goals today because it is important for me to remain a good role model for you guys. That would be difficult if I were covered in my own puke.
Whenever I find myself facing a particular fear I like to quote the scriptures:
“Fear causes hesitation and hesitation will cause your worst fears to come true.”-Letter from Saint Patrick of Swayze to Sir Johnny of Utah
Whether you’re robbing banks with your surfer buddies, mock-dogfighting your coworkers, or talking to a pretty girl at daycare, Swayze’s words hold true.
There are certain times in your life where fear is your friend. Fear reminds you you’re alive when life makes it hard to tell. Fear reminds you there are things in this world that must be vanquished and you are the only vanquisher (totally a word) around. Fear reminds us that noises in the dark aren’t always just noise, sometimes it’s a monster, and it’s probably under your bed or in your closet ready to eat your toes. Monsters love toes.
The point is, in your lives, fear will rear it’s good looking head around every corner and you will have plenty of chances to take it on. It’s never too late to start beating the poop out of your fears.
(Speaking of poop, I’m really hoping I don’t do it in the plane.)
Listen, if something happens up there--and statistically speaking this adventure is like the 9th most dangerous thing I've done this month, but fear laughs in the face of statistics--I want you guys to know…your Uncle Kevin loves you, and, well, he's an idiot.
That’s actually what I want my epitaph to be: “Here lies a man who died the way he lived: Like an idiot.”
Don't worry, I'll be fine.
Fear not, for I have watched Top Gun a crapload of times.
Oh, and tell your Mom happy birthday for me!
Your Favorite Uncle,
Kevin
That Carriage Way Hill....scarier than Everest.
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