My friends and family could tell you that I quip, “keep digging” as inspirational words often.
It’s the subtitle of this website, as a matter of fact.
The epitome of keep digging was this experience I shared with my bro, Jason E. It was an incident that happened over 10 years ago, but still resonates with that man …
It all started with a boat party on Lake Union.
After an invitation I received for a Club Vibes hosted party on the boat christened, The Islander, I promptly bought two tickets. I invited my bro to play the role of wingman for me.
We were two active bachelors in the Seattle nightclub scene.
Since the dock for disembarkation was the ‘dreaded downtown Seattle’, I volunteered to drive us. I was unfamiliar with the exact location, I typed in the address into my GPS device I won from the Costco Travel Holiday Party.
I called it: Molly Magellan.
In retrospect, it sounds like a stripper name … hindsight being 20/20 though. I parked on 4th Ave near the Seattle Cinema on street which was in the heart of gang related crime area. I didn’t do myself any favors by parking driver side (left) to the sidewalk on this one-way road with my GPS device not hidden from view as it was stuck on the windshield.
We had about 2 hours to kill prior so we walked over to Westlake Mall for dinner, etc.
2 hours later …
As we walked up to my car, 2004 Acura RSX Type-S that I’ve dubbed the Sapphire Sled, I noticed shattered glass on the sidewalk next to it.
Sure enough, a thief was brazen enough close to dusk to smash my driver side window, and rip out the GPS device for a quick sell at a pawn shop. Jason looks at the mess, and grumbles, “I guess that’s it for our evening, right, Los?”
I’m already assessing the situation, by opening the trunk of the Sapphire Sled. I rummaged around my gym bag for my damp towel from that morning’s workout.
Jason watches in stunned amazement as I casually sweep the glass from the passenger seat into street, the driver seat, from the door frame. He looks at me, “You’re not calling the Seattle Police?”
“Nah, bro. We keep digging. We have a boat to catch on time. Get the f**k in the car,” I barked.
I explain calmly, even though I was seething in anger inside, “Look, J. By the time I called the po-po, and they actually show up it’ll be hours later. They’ll be preoccupied with drug dealers, shootings, murderers, and more.
“We’ve paid for the boat tickets, they’re non-refundable, and I won’t be an insurance claim for the Magellan device that I should’ve turned off and hidden from view. Let’s just keep digging, get tore up on the boat and have the best time we can.”
We did have a blast on The Islander, even though it was unseasonably cold.
He asked me, after I parked the Sapphire Sled at the dock, “What about the broken window? What if someone steals the radio?”
I smirk, “Then I’ll serenade to you on the ride home. Let’s bounce, bro. ‘sides, I can’t feel more violated. The damage has been done.”
Let It Snow! Let It Snow!
As I drove us home on I-5, I stopped at the Wallingford location of Dick’s Drive-Thru Burgers out of obligation. We left the boat party with no contact information for any of the lovely ladies onboard the boat.
It was called: food of shame
Once I returned to the freeway, it started to SNOW. I gnashed my teeth together, “Are you f**king kidding me? Snow? SNOW!”
I blasted the heat to maximum, turned up the radio to all our fav songs that we sang to stay as warm as possible.
When I dropped off Jason to his vehicle, I quipped, “When I say keep digging, to keep digging through adversity, adapt, overcome obstacles, and win … this is what I meant.”
He smiled, “Of course, Los. Keep digging yourself.”