The Pursuit of Happyness
To Whom It May Concern,
First of all, good morning, I hope you are having an absolutly fantastic day. A little while back, I had this idea of what I wanted to do and how I wanted to go about living my life. I figured, what ever it is I do and however I do it, I want to do good — I want the world to be better because I was here. I’ve learned, continue to llearn, and have arrived at the conclusion that in order to do that, there is not just one finite thing I have to do well, but a multitude of skills, responsabilities, and concepts needed in order to have the level of success that I want to have.
At the beggining, I had absolutely no idea about anything. After graduating high school, I went to the University of Mississippi. My decision was based completely on the fact that several of my best friends had gone, were going, or were already in school there, they threw absolutely phenomenal parties, and they had beautiful women. And, I love all of those things.
High school was easy enough to the point were I never really had to “give it my all.” I focused more on having a good time and being social than academic excellence. I had a good time, there is nothing I regret, and academically, I did pretty well. A few months after I turned 19, I began working for a man named Jim Eckstein. Jim is a phenomenal father, friend, husband, and teacher — an anomoly amongst people. On my first day, he spoke to me about my “toolbox” and how I had, if anything, an advantage because of the experiences, lessons, and situations, that happened early on, making Cole Grisham into “Cole Grisham.” So, after applying, getting accepted, receiving my awards packages, and moving to Oxford, MS, I found that life became a lot easier. After masterfully crafting my schedule so that my earliest class didn’t begin until 11:45AM, I spent almost all of my time binge watching Netflix, maintaining the perfect balance of alcohol, debauchery, and sleep. While mostly unclear from the outside looking in, I had it together, I just like to have fun. When I was a kid, my parents starting arguing a lot. And then more, and then more, and then more. Eventually, a domestic disturbance complaint was called in, an officer came to our house, and my aunt came down from Athens,GA to take care of my brothers and I for a few days. Eventually, things calmed down. My parents got a divorce and my brothers and I went back and forth between our two new homes. It went on for a few months, and in that time, it was clear that our father had gotten into drugs and progressively spiraling downward. He stopped paying child-support, he started selling his cars and furniture, and eventually the house was foreclosed. Finally, after school one day, my mom said, “Your dad left, and he’s not coming back.” And that was that.
Growing up was little different than most. After our dad left, my mom began working a lot. She was usually gone before we woke-up, and wouldn’t come back home until after we went to bed. Money was scarce, but we made the most of it. One year, I could have been older than 11 or 12, we couldn’t afford to go on vacation for spring break. So, my mom came up with a series of games and events that would take place over the next week, and it was the best vacation we ever had. One of the ideas she came up with was for my brothers and I each to chose a night where we would make dinner for everyone else. However, we could only make what we knew, we had to make a menu, create a name for our restaurant, and prepare the “ambiance” of it all. Carter, 2/3, named his restaurant “Francisco de Schwebb<” he made pasta, laid out a table clothe, lit some candles, dimmed the lights, and no “Five-Star Restaurant” has even come close to competing with him yet.
For a few years, things weren’t easy or even mild. It was hard. It was challenging. And, it was worth it. And, if any of us were asked to do it again, we’d say “Yes, sir.”
The point is, there’s a certain character and outlook developed after enduring an experience such as the one we had. And, I like to think that that experience provided me with one of the “tools” Jim mentioned later on.
For fourteen months, I worked under, learned from, and applied the knowledge I had gathered from Jim. In August of 2014, I started Black Condor (previously HeartFelt for all you old folk) I want to do good, I want the world to better because I was here. Based on that single idea and/or sentiment, I made a decision. At the time, I had no idea what B.C. was, could become, what I wanted to do with it, or how I was going to do it, but regardless of anything, I was going to do it. Growing up, my mom instilled in my brothers and I this idea that we were always “becoming” something more than what we are now. Basically, where we are now is almost irrelevant, because were are constantly working towards being “greater.”
The summer after 6th grade, I attended Camp Sunshine. I had been diagnosed with a brain cancer, once the summer after kindergarten, again a few months after starting middle school, and once more after that. That summer, Chris Kappy, Joe Talent, and Bo Ramos befriended, counseled, and mentored myself and several others, who had gotten the shit kicked-out of them and managed to find their way back. While leaving us a little bent and little broken, every one of us will tell you that cancer was one of the best things that ever happened to us. While it absolutely sucked going through it, afterwards, it built a certain resilience and character that allowed us to move forward, become a SEAL, disregard limitations, build a brand, explore the world, join the army, pursue the Air Force, play in the NFL, the MLB, and participate in the olympics. For some of us, cancer established this unrelenting desire to push ourselves harder and farther than anyone could hope to imagine. Some of us won, some of us lost, and some of us are still fighting. And, for those of us who have managed to put ourselves back together, while our individual hopes, dreams, and aspirations may lead us along different paths, we all continue to strive to experience life at the highest intensity and volume imaginable.
As smart as I like to think I am, I ain’t shit, yet. I believe that in order to be as successful as I want to be, there is a certain “delusional” characteristic involved. And, while the level of knowledge, education, and experience I have been able to attain and continue to pursue astounds me, every once in a while, I miss a thing or two.
About two months into my collegiate career, I received a letter from the registrar’s office informing me of an outstanding balance of $10,000 on my account. I was told, if I was not able to come up with the money by the end of the semester, I wouldn’t be able to attend school the following semester. I’m sure, if I tried, I would be able to find the money, but I didn’t, and look what came out of it. So, I have no regrets. However, recently, I decided to go back to school and pursue a degree. Unfortunately, my account at Ole Miss still reads of an outstanding balance of $8,416.34. Until they get their money, the school will not release my transcripts. And, until Ole Miss releases my transcripts, I cannot register for any further classes.
Unfortunately, I do not possess $8,416.34. And, despite the fact I have three jobs, I am still only making a finite amount of money. I have been awarded several scholarships and financial aid awards to offset the cost of school, but the situation is slightly more nuanced. I no way is my situation “special,” it’s just different, and I like that.
- cole