Serious homesickness.

Every time I get close to a trip home (I'll be on the ground in Encinitas in 15 days) I get super homesick in the stupidest way. Like, because I know it's coming, all I can think about all day is my feet in the sand and the sun on my face and the frisbee in my hand and the Rico's in my stomach, hahaha. And I'm so lucky to get to head to the homeland so often. Many of my friends maybe make it back for Christmas and part of the summer (lookin' at you, Fletch) and they somehow manage to survive that. I have these extra opportunities and so I get greedy. I mean, just look at this.

In order to do even remote justice to what the ocean means to me, here's a poem. I didn't write it. Robert Hamma did. I don't know him. But he knows what I feel at the shore.

At this elemental meeting place of earth and sea and sky,
I sense your call to look inward
even as I gaze outward at the horizon.


The waves wash over my feet
and I sink gradually into the sand, 
rooting me in the earth and the sea.


Simply by being here
I know I am part 
of the rhythm of the tide and the energy of the surf.


I am a unique expression
of the endless and varied stream of living things
whose life is your life.


With each wave I sense
the giving and the taking, the tears and the laughter,
the longing and the fulfillment of all living things.


With each wave I am touched
by the constancy of your presence.


And I dare to believe that all shall be well.

RIP Steve Jobs

Yesterday, another round of rumors were put to rest and totally sweet technology was unveiled as Apple rolled out the iPhone 4S. It was all the same hype and secrecy and shiny new metal and never-before-seen capabilities. Some people can't wait to line up to pay absurd amounts of money for their new gadgets. Others are vocally underwhelmed with what they think could be possible in the newest Apple product. Still others are holding out for the iPhone 5. No matter your opinion, you likely shared it yesterday afternoon with your online world.

We love this stuff.

But as we watched the presentation of this new piece of machinery turned art, there was something amiss. It wasn't Steve Jobs that was telling us about it. It wasn't Steve Jobs seemingly prank calling a neighborhood Starbucks by pretending to order 300 lattes while showing of that new iPhone. It wasn't Steve Jobs telling us piece by piece what was new and different about this one. It wasn't Steve Jobs standing there in his jeans and black t-shirt, simultaneously nonchalant and totally stoked for you get stoked about what was in his hands.

It's hard to even know what to say, because I'm typing this on a MacBook Pro -- the third Apple computer I've owned. I just got a notification about a Steve Jobs-related Facebook post on my iPhone 4 -- the second iPhone I've owned, not counting the three iPods I owned before that. Music is playing that I bought on iTunes. Every day my life is genuinely improved by a product that first had life in the mind of Steve Jobs. His influence on my generation is so pervasive. We don't even say mp3 player anymore -- it's just iPod. The first one I owned was bigger than the iPhone I have now, and I'm pretty sure it held like 8GB of music or something. But I distinctly remember the magic of being able to play all the music I had -- to make playlists on-the-go! -- on that fat white machine. And how far Apple innovation has come. How far it has taken us!

I mean, I send email from my pocket! I play hangman with Fletcher -- 3000 miles away -- from my pocket! I look up stuff on Wikipedia and make plans with other people and buy music that I can instantly listen to and watch videos of cats and check scripture references and keep track of sports scores and take photographs and order shatterproof wine glasses online and make video phone calls -- !!!! -- all from my pocket! My ability to interact with the world around me is unreal. It was made real by a lifetime of innovation from Steve Jobs.

An all-too-short lifetime.

The death of Steve Jobs is not the death of Apple. He has thousands of innovative employees working around the clock to make the next incredible piece of equipment we won't believe we lived without. But those people may never have come to be who they were without Apple and without Steve Jobs.

Rest in peace, Steve. Cancer sucks. But this world is better, faster, more magical and more fun because you lived. Know it.

Fourth year...

Yesterday, Eric and I had a chat in the Looper (duh) about how wacky our class' fourth year is going to be. He won't be with us, for one thing. And neither will Kelsey. And some of our number will, undoubtedly, opt for fourth-year internships. There's a chance that somebody will transfer or drop out before we even get there.

This was kind of a downer conversation.

But then, this morning, I remembered something.

My fourth year, the indomitable BENJAMIN ARIC HOGUE will be a first-year!

I will miss my dearest Kelsey every day (and her smartypants med school *husband*). And there will be no replacing Eric and Abby's presence in our lives.

But could there be greater joy for me than to have the (other) greatest member of the CLU class of 2010 join me here in this place? No way. I'd TA an 8am class just to see his shining face to start my day!  I'd even put up with a few days worth of fussy bear throughout the school year!

Just think of it, Ben. There will be so much Britney. And so much CNN. And so much brunch. And so many stories of Ukraine. And so many stories of CLU. And so much candy corn! And so much tweeting. And SO MUCH BESTLIFE!

Oh, praise Jesus for that glorious day. All will be well.