“Get them to talk about themselves.” When trying to start or stay engaged in a conversation, people have no problem talking about themselves. After all, who knows you better than you?
Writing, however, seems a bit more of a chore.
About Me.
The “Who I Am” is pretty simple. The “How I Got Here” is more complex, as evidenced by the 1200 words below. I try to be sarcastic and humorous in a friendly, fun, happy way. What matters in this life is life. Putting it out there, getting out there. I do not take things to heart.
I still hold Kraft macaroni and cheese as the ultimate favorite. Indiana Jones will forever be my hero and monster trucks will never lose their cool!
My Background.
I am imagining you all are not interested in going back to the very beginning, the middle is the middle typical of most people, and the most recent has been lightly touched on by Erin.
I rolled forty this year. Some of you are saying, “my God he is OLD” and some days I feel that way too. Others are rolling their eyes saying, “forty is nothing, just wait” and I am excited for the next forty. I consider myself “in the middle” in every way. This, hopefully, will be a place for us to share our experiences, old and new. Here is a bit of my “middleness”:
I grew up the older of three, Casey the younger (now living in Reno, Nevada) and Amy in the middle (now living in Weed, California), in the south bay, San Jose, California. Yup yup. Now you know why! We lived in a typical house in a typical neighborhood in the typical suburbs. My dad worked for IBM fooooreeeevvvverrrr. My mom stayed home and catered to our every desire, pbbssshhh I wish. After school I would hook up with buddies and we would wander around town free until it got dark. I was grounded more than I was not, but all I had to do was annoy mom enough and she would “set conditions,” which meant I was free to roam again. I went to high school with 3000 other kids. I learned to drive on 6 lanes of highway, which moved at 85 or 5, it seemed nothing it the middle. I was always late, it was 16 miles to the college but took 40 minutes. Me and the 1,000,000 other people had the same idea, survive. Some did it by taking from others, a lot of people chose to take actually. Some did it crammed into 8×8 workspaces (are they still called cubicles?) in towering office buildings next to other towering office buildings, spanning block after block of real estate called “office parks.” Not the fun park with grass and swings. This was not the life for me, never was, never will be.
In every direction just beyond the great expanse of homes was, to me, untapped adventure. On the southern edge of town, rolling hills of knee high light brown grass, oak trees standing tall on the horizon and NO CONCRETE. I loved disappearing into some field with no direction and no goal.
To the west was the wonderful Pacific Ocean, where I spent a good number of my high school days instead of sitting in class. In the summer Santa Cruz offered plenty of attractions, bands, bonfires, beer, bikinis, hot sand, and cool ocean breeze. Often I would slip into the forest trading the towering concrete for towering Sequoias or Redwood trees.
East of our little suburban home was the Sierra Nevadas, home of some of the best snowboarding the nation has to offer, Truckee and Lake Tahoe where usual destinations. The Rubicon Trail was one of the favorites. My brother and I honed our outdoor skills, camping and wilderness hiking in these mountains.
The north was more concrete jungle, the famous San Francisco. Now I know the media has done a great job with sourly displaying The City and it’s extreme liberalism, and I don’t disagree. I want to remind you I rocked it TWENTY YEARS AGO, ugh, never thought I would say that. The post-evening pre-marital programing promoted phenomenal pastimes. Aside from the high-end entertainment, I would separate myself from the moment and explore the rich history and culture which San Francisco as a port city was built from.
When I put one foot out of my parents nest I did so building houses in the booming remodel market the bay area afforded. I never fully escaped the shelter of my parents roof. Room and board in the downtown area was more than my month’s income.
I was 23 years old when I decided I was at a dead end. The construction market slowed dramatically due to the Y2K scare. An upper level college degree was still not part of my desires. I decided to revisit my childhood dream of shooting machine guns and blowing shit up. I enlisted in the US ARMY.
It was in the ARMY I developed my sense of “not giving a f*ck,” due to the daily failed grind of trying to do things my way. It was definitely for the best. I matured exponentially and gained an immense amount of experience. I grew as a follower and as a leader. There is a little known lesson waiting to be learned by those who are still under the age of twetny-five, Patience. Those old salty dogs of war gave me skills I carry into every aspect of my life today. I explored many corners of the world I would have not given a second thought to otherwise. I came home with a future ex-wife, but most importantly a beautiful little girl I would come to call my daughter and a wonderful son resting, waiting to make a presence.
I would have regretted NOT giving myself in service to our country for the rest of my life. I have 4 years left.
I was picked up by an agency here in Oregon and expanded the reach of the Snodgrass branches. Between the long intervals of trainings and deployments, Samshel, Wyatt and I were an inseparable team. If there is one thing I could pass on to my children it is to “expand your horizon.” I wanted to put them on front of every possible opportunity for them to gain experience and knowledge. We did five years on the Oregon coast before we moved inland out of the rain. And traded rain for snow, ugh. But! Now they can say they have lived in both!
Klamath was our next destination.
This is when the lights went off. The next four years held a lifetime of events.
We will visit most of these events in detail as we navigate the future of “The Snod Life” so I will just list them here.
The first in a series of catastrophic events was divorce, which ended my freedom of maneuver (there is an ARMY term for you all) with my two best friends.
Financial destruction accommodates the end of most marriages, and I was not spared.
The worst was yet to come and is never anything anyone anywhere can be prepared for. The bottom fell out when Samshel died. An uncertain future loomed.
In the time between divorce and Samshel’s death, I met Erin. And her entourage. I fell in love in a moment. Erin and I moved expediently between meeting and marrying. We went ahead and threw everything and everyone into the blender and turned it on high. But the recipe just seemed to be missing something……we had hers, we had mine, but we needed an “ours.” Enter Oliver Henry Snodgrass!
Dog? Cat? Pickett fence? Check. Check. Check. Chaos Perfected.
As we continue to experience the world we include Samshel because she is still a part of our story. When we get the chance to meet again, she will know she has always mattered and will always be loved, because her memory has grown bigger and stronger with us.
The big idea here is to share with you all my take on living life, raising kids, and spreading positivity.
The ever evolving idea of blending families, diversifying experiences, and finding YOUR happy.
Welcome to The Snod Life.
Hello, Mike! I have already enjoyed Ein’s writings and I love that you all are putting it out there on line for all to see in the ups and downs of raising blended families.
One thing that always kept me going in spite of failed marriages and ex’s, is that I did the best that I could at the time. My ex’s came into my life when we needed each other for that particular stage in our lives. But the last one is a keeper. 🙂