Hey all!I hope that you were able to get on and enjoy the inaugural episode of The Companion Podcast, which I have started with the aforementioned Gage Cottle, and one of our dear friends Matt Moon. Just to keep you all in the loop, we've now published our second episode. I do not hesitate to say that it is leaps and bounds above our first, so stick with us, and hopefully you will find it to your enjoyment. Click, download and enjoy!! And remember, Rocket rules!
This Podcast is a culmination of all that I've been absorbing in popular culture over the past few years, stick with us if you can and we'll find our stride and take you on a magical journey of geekdom and friendship! Come be our companions!
The Superbowl this past weekend was a bittersweet time in my
life and not just because of the outcome of the game. Go Broncos. It was good
because it’s one of the only times in my memory that the broncos had been doing
well and the first Superbowl where I was interested. But the only thing that
was missing from this last game were the shouts of happiness and the groans of
frustration from my Dad, Bruce.
My dad is and has been the biggest Bronco fan that I know,
as is apparent by the picture of me (1 month old) dressed in the most shiny and
quickly grown out of one-sy with a big horse head and “Denver Broncos.” I know
that I don’t really talk about my Dad as much as I should, but my interest and
feelings are the most prevalent after the big game on Sunday. My Dad is the
one who got me into football and interested in the game (playing and watching).
He was also one of the only people I knew that would watch every NFL football
game that he could, just for the sake of watching it. The thing that was most
prevalent from watching Broncos and Utes football games was how vocal and involved
he was in the games. He was constantly jumping up from the couch or hanging his
head from the previous success/failure.
It just seems that as time goes, I find out all of the situations
in which my Dad was always there or I need in that moment. Hunting and fishing
were always our things together, and they’re not done one a consistent basis.
Because I only engage in these activities once or twice a year, they’re not constantly
on my mind for me to miss my Dad in. But I’m finding that the more that I do
it, the more I feel isolated or lonely because he’s not there. It’s just
because before now, he’s always been there whenever we…. Go out camping, have a
Christmas at my grandma’s, reel in some big rainbow trout, look through the
scope of my hunting rifle and size up the animal. He was there whenever I learned
anything about the outdoors and as my jobs take me out into the back country,
it’s strange to not have him within shouting range.
On the morning of the Superbowl I begin to feel this
overwhelming sensation to drive up to Heber and visit my father’s grave. I just
knew that if there were any chance in the world that I could see him on this momentous
occasion for the Broncos and my father this would get me the closest. I could
just imagine his house draped in orange and blue. I imagine streamers heading
to and fro all along his ceiling. He would get that flag pole he always talked
about getting just so that he could fly his Broncos flag high in the sky. Every
Broncos shirt he owned would be tacked to the wall of the entry way. He would
prepare a near king’s feast for the weary travelers in attendance. But he would
also be the most serious throughout the entire game with interruption being punishable
by death. It didn't hurt that I was covered in a new, Superbowl edition of a
Peyton Manning jersey; a player my Dad respected and feared in equal
proportions. That entire weekend, he wasn't far from my innermost thoughts. I
dare say that I may have never seen as much as excitement in his face as I can
imagine he would have at the news of the Broncos in the Super Bowl. As my cousin Sam texted me, "New theory... if Bruce can't watch it in person... they can't win!!" I think, in some cathartic way, that message has a strange resonance in my heart It would be difficult to really enjoy the Bronco's ultimate success without him screaming, cheering and bragging alongside me.
I hope the decorations got him in the mood for the game
My High School Graduation: He was so proud.
Despite the devastating loss that my father’s team endured, I know that he would still be proud that the Broncos were in the Superbowl or that we knocked out the Patriots to get there. The optimism that you rarely say would be harping about how much ass the broncos were going to kick in the next season and all of the things they need to work on between now and them. I was just thinking of my dad this past week and thought I would run that by you guys. It was the first time, far too long for me to admit to, that I’d found my way to the Heber cemetery and paid a little respect to the man that shaped my perceptions and interests in nearly all aspects of my life. So the next time you guys see your dad, give them an extra hug, hand shake or head nod for me. Coming from a guy, who, at this point in his life would sacrifice all of his possessions to wrap my arms about my big, Bronco loving father.
What I did in response to my grief. I decorated myself a little bit.
I just hope that you seize every opportunity to appreciate the people in your life and let them know how much you mean to them. You never think about it until it’s too late.