Spizzy

It's a new year, and along with a clean slate and renewed sense of being, I have a new home. I decided that blogging from my mom's basement was no longer acceptable, I'm going to be 24 this year for god's sake. The number 24 has always been an important number to me, and that age has always made me think of Griffey; his original number and the age at which he became a superstar. Coping with the sad realization that I will not be a superstar at 24 was hard, but getting out of my mom's basement was a big step in the right direction. A step which landed me in a three bedroom apartment on First Hill with my two pals Barry and Tam Johnson. The three of us managed to survive an entire year living together in college, so we decided that now that we are all attempting to tame the "real" world, we should brave the road together again...either that or they got tired of living with their parents too. Although the development of our appartment is still in the embryonic stage, there is a lot of potential. It's like the opening piano riff in "Don't Stop Believing," by Journey, it sounds like it could be good, subtly intruiging, but you're not quite sure yet. Well let me be the first to assure you, just like high pitched croonings of Steve Perry, it's going to be so great it'll annoy you.

The three of us have drawn many comparisons, all of which we agree with fully, and greatly appreciate. The Three Muskateers; flattering, accurate in terms of our bravery and swardsmanship, but we refuse to wear poofy shirts, so it is it tough fit. The Three Amigos; also pretty close. We are all three hilarious, we love sombreros, and we all thrive on horseback, but there isn't a weak link in our chain like Martin Short is to the Three Amigos. Thus the camparison fails. The only one that works is the newest of the popular threesomes, Boston's Big Three of Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnet. Just like them, we are all three in our prime, we're all unselfish and more interested in winning than personal statistics, and we all look great in green.



It's a perfect fit. The house goes by many names: The Spizzy, Bunkingham Palace, The Teej Mahal, The Bird Nest, the Seattle Three Party, and whatever else we can think of. It's gonna be great, which lands me one step closer to my dream of greatness at 24. Maybe I won't hit 45 home runs, maybe I won't be a millionaire, but I'll have a sweet apartment, with a bunch of funny nicknames. And of course, a poster of Mr. 24, Ken Griffey Jr., just to remind us of what we are shooting for.