Sometimes, you just need the truth spoken in the most frank terms by someone a little further down the road of life than you.  Someone who has made it to the rarified atmosphere.

This scene is no exception and that is why it is one of my favorite scenes of all time.

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Theodore Roosevelt is responsible for one of my favorite quotes. A trip to Valencia, Spain and the Bull Fighting Museum (and some great photography by Annie) is responsible for one of my new favorite pictures. Put together, they are a great reminder to dare greatly.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” - Theodore Roosevelt

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When you’ve experienced the best, it is impossible to be satisfied with less. When you’ve felt excellence to your very core, pretty good won’t cut it. When you smiled endlessly just at the thought of how lucky you are, you’re ruined for anything but that kind of joy.  8 years ago today, Annie ruined me.

Just like when you sit in first class, eat at a renowned restaurant, or stay at a breath-taking hotel for the first time, you can’t help but like what you see. But then, as you begin to grow accustomed to that kind of excellence and that standard, it ruins you for everything else.

Since that moment when we became “we” for the first time and told people about it, we’ve been chasing down a really big story. A narrative that is much bigger than either of us expected and with more twists and turns than we’d fathomed. It is a story of meeting one another where we were very early into understand who we were as individuals and asking each other to be the best they could be as we grew into the people we are becoming today.

Who I was when we first got together and who I am today is quite different. The who I was then was ruined by the bigger picture and the joy that came from being with Annie on this little adventure called life we’ve been living out. The who I was then and the who I am today has a direct and deep correlation to who Annie believed I could be. I can never express the amount of confidence I carry into any situation knowing that, no matter what, she still believes that I have what it takes to become the best version of me that I can. Walking around with that kind of confidence has ruined me from accepting anything less.

With every word spoken, each kiss on the check, and every glowing smile that the past 8 years have brought, my belief that there is nothing better than true love has deepened, my understanding of what it is likely to have someone love you unconditionally has grown, and perhaps most importantly my definition of ‘best friend’ has risen to an astronomically high standard.

To my favorite travel companion, my truest best friend, and my ultimate love: Happy Anniversary.Tweet

Last year on the TOMS Shoe Drop, we spent a lot of time on the buses driving through rural jungle towns in Argentina. In the “get to know you conversations” with my fellow travelers, I noticed that there was a consistent phrase I said when talking about my life: “My Dad always said…”

It didn’t really hit me until I was talking with Pam Mycoskie, (Blake, the Founder of TOMS, mom) and she stopped me mid-sentence, and said, “Andy, I really want to meet your dad one day.”

I had to smile. I hadn’t realized how much I was referencing my Dad until that moment. But then, as I continued to chat with other folks I met for the first time on the trip, I realized how often I was telling a joke or sharing some wisdom that I first picked up from Dad.

The piece of advice that Dad shared with me in Jr. High that has stuck and been something that I have given a ton of thought to is this:

“Andy, I want you to look at what your Mom and I do and think about what you think we do really well and be like that.  If you there is someone else who does something else really well in their life, learn from them in that area and be like that. I want you to be the best that you can be in everything that you do and to do so mean you’re going to have to learn from a lot of different folks along the way.”

That encouragement and humility fostered what I like to think is my insatiable appetite for learning from anyone who is willing to teach me. I love sitting with people that are really good at what they do and asking really good questions. (My Dad is also really good at that. There is not a better listener on the planet.) I love learning the hows and they whys of success from folks that are further down the road from me. And I love that I can share that and talk about it all with my Dad.

My Dad has taught me more than anyone in the world about life and what it means to be a man, a husband, and a father. The nuggets of wisdom that he’s shared throughout my life are the most referenced quotes that run through my head. But my Dad is not only quotable, he is also my hero.

Happy Father’s Day Dad!Tweet

My all out support of lemonade stands and commitment to stop and buy a cup every time I see one is fairly well documented. So, you can imagine my outrage this morning when I learned that local authorities shut down a kids lemonade stand outside the US Open and fined the parents $500.

And here is where it gets even more objectionable, the kids were donating all the money to charity!

The authorities said that it was “more than just a little lemonade stand, you’ve got coolers of lemonade pre-made.” So, because these kids were thinking ahead and didn’t want to run out of supply for what would surely be in demand, they’re being penalized?

I think every kid in America should be encouraged to do a lemonade stand. There is nothing better than learning to talk to attract, talk to, serve, and thank new customers. It is how I got my first taste of the entrepreneurial bug over 20 years ago thanks to my parents and it is something I will support for the rest of my life.

To read more, go HERETweet

My favorite show, and the only one that I actually watch on TV religiously (other than Modern Family) is Chopped on the Food Network. I love the idea of competitive cooking and seeing what these chefs come up with in their “mystery basket” of ingredients. Reminds me of college when we would just put whatever we had into some sort of edible meal.

So tonight, since I was home alone, I decided to see if I could take the Chopped Challenge myself. I went to the store and got 4 “mystery ingredients” that I frankly had no idea how they would work together:

- Tilapia

- Clementines

- Winecap Portobello Mushrooms

- Brussel Sprouts

I gave my self 30 minutes on the clock and then gave it my best shot! And, I am very happy to report, my taste buds are still thanking me. I pulled together a Brussel Sprout and Mushroom black pepper hash as the side that complimented my blackened lemon tilapia that I served with a clementine, cucumber, and cherry tomato cajun slaw as a garnish.

I pair it all with a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand and smiled with each bite.

There is nothing better than an enthusiastic meal: the one that you put everything you have into it.Tweet

They’d written me off. I had ceased to exist in their minds. The shock on their faces when I came running up, barefoot and sweaty, and declared that I was there for my flight was the kind of look Hollywood can’t reproduce. I dared to dance with LAX and I won.

But let’s back up, this story started a little over twenty hours ago (early today… the longest June 15th ever) when I arrived at Sydney Airport and found out that our flight was going to be delayed. The volcanic ash from Chile was messing with the flights to the south and west of us and as a result, the gorgeous Airbus 380 that had been intended for our flight got sent to Cape Town instead. As a result, all the catering was wrong for the 747 that had been sent to our gate.

By the time we landed at LAX, we were more than two hours late. By the time I got off the plane, the first boarding call would have been made for my American Airlines flight to JFK. By the time I got through customs the folks in first class would have been seated and sipping on a cool beverage and calling for the head of a pig.  By the time I sweet talked my way to the front of the security line and past the “you’ve been randomly selected for a pat down” the final call for my flight at the other end of the terminal had been made. I grabbed my stuff and began sprinting barefoot from gate 30 to gate 49 and am sorry to say scared some women and children along the way. So, with my TOMS in hand and sweat pouring down my face, I arrived to find that the flight was closed, my beloved aisle window seat have been given away to a small Ukrainian woman, and they’d rebooked me on a later flight. But, not to be denied, I played my brand new trump card that I just received in my inbox this morning “I’m Platinum.  So, since I’m here so I am going to be on that flight.”

So now, as I type this, I have two large burly gentleman on either side of me that were not too happy to see me as the final passenger walking down the aisle and letting them know I was going to try and squeeze all 6’3″ and 205 lbs of me into the 18 inches that separated their elbows, otherwise known as 30E.

But, the great news in this story is that I made my flight because there is nothing that I want more once I board a flight back to NYC than to see the skyline from the back of the taxi and get home.  And, if I have to name drop, play on the sympathies of old women, and wave my newly minted AA Platinum card around to do it, I will.Tweet

The best part about having some severe jet lag is being awake to watch the sunrise.  I hiked out to Dawes Point Park under the Sydney Harbour Bridge to watch the sunrise across the harbour my first morning in Sydney.

I am really glad I did.Tweet

Yesterday, Representative Weiner of New York got on stage to apologize for being an idiot.  And, despite the insane number of jokes that his last name and this situation lend themselves to, the thing that got me going was the sensational coverage by the entirety of the American press.

People are idiots and do stupid things. People make mistakes.  People get caught. People in the public eye, for whatever reason, think it won’t happen to them. But it does. And then, for the next 3 days, every nightly talk show and front page headline dives into “how the story happen” and an in depth look at the way the events unfolded.

DEAR AMERICA: GROW A PAIR AND QUIT GIVING A RIP.

Surely there’s much more interesting things than the latest drama of torrid affairs between ugly chicks and politicians. Surely you have something better to do with your day than care that someone got a Twitter DM and @Reply mixed up.  There is nothing interesting here unless your life is only lived vicariously through the exploits of others and this is the latest escape from the routine known as your day to day.

Between Weiner, Edwards, and Schwarzenegger, my ability to care is at an all time low. Just wait three days until this Weiner story goes flaccid (I had to get one in there!) and there will be another one with a tearful apology at a podium with a blue curtain behind it.

But in the meantime, go live a life that doesn’t allow you the time to give a flying flip about this crap.

GROW A PAIR. Be the headlines that matter in your life.Tweet