Leavin’ on a Jet-Plane

Hello Faithful Readers, the current time is four in the AM and as a result of my horrendously altered sleep schedule I’m already all showered, packed and squeezing in a little pre-flight blogging. Waking up super-early didn’t come as a large shock today, I got another case of the shakes—which for entertainment purposes, I’ll be referring to as the “hippy-hippy shakes.” A few beers later and they were gone and all was well. Unfortunately, I was still unable to get any good sleep. I was in and out all-night until my eyes popped open a little before 3:30 and I finally said “screw it” and gave up on the whole sleeping thing.

 

So now at four in the AM, I’m doing what any logical fellow about to board a plane would be doing…I’m watching “Passenger 57” and learning all about the ways I can single-handedly disarm a group of European terrorists and high-jackers if the situation were to arise. Granted, making mention of terrorists and high-jackers will probably result in my being pulled aside and beaten at the security checkpoint—but it’s a risk I take for you, my Faithful Readers!

 

As per my Mama’s request I’m wearing a clean pair of undies in case I get in an accident. Although I’ve gotta be honest, in my experience, it would seem that if I get into any sort of accident on a 757 I’m going to be more in need of clean dental records than pantaloons. Also, if the plane is going down, there’s a pretty good chance that I’m going to poo myself regardless…but those points notwithstanding—if my Mama asks—I was wearing clean undies!!

 

It is on that line of thought that I figure I should lay out my will before jumping on board Northwest 393 with service from Boston to Minneapolis and continuing on to Anchorage. This is a concept that I’m blatantly stealing from the gorgeous Ms. Lindsey Quick, but I figure imitation if the sincerest form of flattery, so she’d be down with it. As such here goes…

 

The Final Will and Testament of Jeremiah Graves

 

Disclaimer: Normally I’d just say “it all goes to Grace” and let her deal with the mess, but come on…if I don’t survive our plane hitting a mountain or disappearing into the oft-unheralded Bermuda Triangle of Michigan or being blown out of the sky by a renegade blimp…there’s no way she will. So let’s operate under the assumption she’s a goner too.

 

To my brother, G-Doggy, I leave my money. I contemplated leaving it to one of my friends—but last time I checked, everyone I can conceivably think of makes more money than I do. I figure he can use it to give my new niece a college fund or something. Although I’m taking odds now that he blows it on a new stereo system or window tint for his pick-up.

 

To Mike Kunkel I leave the one thing he has always coveted and envied—and will no doubt deny to no end—my vast knowledge of baseball.

 To the oft-mentioned Lindsey Quick and Dana Goblaskas I leave my blog. I’ve recently realized that Lindsey is my Midwest Dana and Dana my East coast Lindsey. I fully assume that should the blimp only hit Grace’s seat on this morning’s flight, I will marry one of these lovely young women and live happily ever after. In fact, Grace has given this plan the green light—so it’s all good. I find both of their blogs to be two of my favorite things to read and I believe they will proudly carry on the tradition of “Blank Stares and Blank Pages.”

 

To Ryan Gray I leave my television, Playstation and Guitar Hero. I cannot foresee any individual who could possibly appreciate it more than he.

 

To Steven Kunkel I leave the commissionership of the Salmon League and the rights and responsibilities of organizing Christmas Bowl and the annual spring softball game.

 

To the beauties of Document Services I leave a deeply intricate scavenger hunt, the first clue of which you shall receive at my wake from a tall man in a yellow hat—you’ll recognize him as he has a pet monkey.

 

To John Kunkel I leave my sweet-ass car. The dude has been looking to upgrade for awhile now and I figure it would make dealing with my death that much easier.

 

To Jackie Partyka I leave the infamous Pig Lights. No explanation necessary.

 

To Travis, Tricia and Liam Morfitt I leave the contents of my room at my parent’s home. There is no doubt in my mind that you will find enough treasures from high school buried in there to keep you entertained for the remainder of your days.

 

To Jay Christiansen I leave the knowledge that your 2008 Salmon League trophy was—in fact—on its way to you. Then my plane was abducted by aliens and along with it, your trophy. My apologies.

 

To the lovely Bethanie Edwards I leave a large pile of work that is now yours as a result of my untimely demise. Feel free to take whatever you would like from my desk as a thank you/apology.

 

To the MIT Libraries I leave peace of mind knowing that you’ve just started on your path to lowering the budget. I figure $30k plus benefits is a nice start. You’re welcome!!

 

To Roshni Gohil I leave all of my energy drinks, if for no better reason than I’d like to see what you’d be like super-caffeinated. Although I feel safer knowing that I’ll see it from some celestial outpost and not from the other side of the office where my life would, undoubtedly, be in danger.

 

To Mama and Pappy I leave my clothes and my books. You two seem to dig most of my bad-ass t-shirts and I know Pappy could stand to have a few more baseball books to read. Enough of the Tom Clancy crap already!

 

To Craiggers I leave my Ken Burns’ documentary “Baseball.” There is no one who would benefit more from learning all about the rich history of the greatest game ever created.

 

To my brother, Eric, I leave the Backyard Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Championship. No explanation necessary.

 

To Carrot Top I leave a deep, unceasingly loathing that will lead to my haunting you for the remainder of your humorless days. Man, you suck!!!

 

To Corey Butler I leave my AP Stylebooks and, for comedic effect, my luchador masks.

 

To Kit Alspach I leave all of the beer in my fridge. Enjoy!

 

To Ryan Gehrke I leave my DVDs documenting the Twins’ World Series wins in ’87 and ’91. Enjoy them my friend, enjoy them well.

 

To Darcy Duke, I leave all of my circulation and processing knowledge. Combining your vast librarian-ism and technical prowess with my support-staffiism will turn you into the ultimate librarian and thus allow you to immediately take over as Head of the MIT Libraries. Oh…and you’ll be able to fly!!

 

To Ryan Gray I also leave my ability to drink without hangovers. There is no doubt in my mind you will make the most of this super power.

To Stephanie Hartman I leave my part of the veggies. Granted that’s just today’s veggies and they are all yours anyway because I’m not there, but let’s be honest I’m running out of stuff!! Okay, okay…you can have all of the sugary, salty snacks in my desk. You know you want them!

 

To Elissa Derby I leave my baseball glove. In my absence/death/abduction you are officially the new co-captain and centerfielder for the Bibliotechs. I would give you my body with which do dive around the Astroturf—as to spare your own—but it’s a learning experience that everyone should have. Plus, odds are pretty good my body melted away in the explosion.

 

To John Kunkel I also leave the second half of our BFF medallion, which—as always—is worn hanging by my heart.

 

To Carol Robinson I leave the responsibility of keeping Ryan entertained all day. This may impact your workload, but it is necessary for the survival of the MIT Libraries. To lighten this blow, I am also leaving you my Rocky action figures. Treat them well.

 

To Carol Frederick I leave the responsibility of playing good cop to your own bad cop. Odds are this will be complicated and make many people think you are suffering from some sort of multiple-personality disorder, but I think you can pull it off.

 

To Noel I leave my cube in the room with people in it. That, my friend, is a gift in and of itself.

 

To Tracy Gabridge I leave the knowledge that you will forever be the Queen of Scramble. My ability to best your top scores has been a fluke, at best. You are without a doubt the master of that game and I humbly bow down to you. (note: if I do happen to survive this flight…let’s pretend I never said this.)

 

To Mat “The Bat” Willmott I leave the responsibility to make absurd statements and serve as the defacto class clown in any and all group settings. The Libraries need someone who refuses to take his job too seriously…it is very, very crucial to the operation of such an entity. I bestow this right upon you. (note: it is entirely possible to still do a kick-ass job whilst not taking it seriously…do not confuse with laziness or you’ll have failed me)

 

To my boss, Maria, I leave a gapping hole in your staff. Also, I leave my Iowa flag and my spot on the R&R Committee.

 

To Cassandra Fox I leave my bacon salt. It will make all of your food taste like bacon and it is totally veggie-lover friendly!! You shall enjoy it all the days of your life.

 

To John Kunkel I also leave the unenviable task of serving as the bring-togetherer of The Boys. It is your job to ensure that folks who would otherwise never see each other (read: Craiggers/Jay or Craiggers/Travis or Mike/Jay) will all get together. Someone must be the catalyst and it is now you.

 

To Mike Kunkel I also leave my ability to be humble. Use it and use it a lot. (note: because you’re a cocky mofo!)

 

To Justin Kunkel I leave my ability to drink large quantities of beer and never pee on things that shouldn’t be peed on. Don’t forget…with great power, comes great responsibility.

 

To Angie Locknar I leave my Friends DVD collection. This is because you have never given this show the proper appreciation. I feel like you’ll have no choice but to do so if you’re watching it in my honor.

 

To Walter Powers I leave my knees and back and any other joint or body part that you could use an updated version of. Granted, my knees aren’t so good and neither is my back…but I can only assume they’d be upgrades. Enjoy!

 

To Margaret Willison I leave the knowledge that no actual ‘hit’ has been put out on your life and as far as I’m concerned…you’re safe.

 

To Remlee Green I leave the responsibility to take over my Strat-O-Matic baseball teams in my epic battle with the aforementioned Mat “The Bat.” I trust that you can conquer him and defend my good name.

 

To Nick “The Stick” and Drew “The Hammer” I posthumously leave the long overdue 2008 MVP and Rookie of the Year honors for the Bibs. Had I not died in the tragic plane vs. pterodactyl incident on my way to the Midwest both of you would have received your trophies and appropriate honors.

 

To Erin Price I leave the responsibility of eating Taco John’s at every possible turn. Make me proud.

To Seth Johnson I leave the knowledge that you’re largely the reason for busting me out of my nearly year-long writer’s block. I owe you a medal or a bunch of whiskey or something.

To Jennifer Aniston I leave a love that no man shall ever match…especially John f’n Mayer!!

To the gorgeous women of country music–Carrie, Jennifer, Taylor, Shania, etc…I leave many letters created from newspaper-clippings. Please burn and discard these….please?!

To Brad Paisley I leave undying respect and admiration for your recently acquired goatee.

To Erik and Ryan I leave our apartment. It’s cheaper, it’s closer to the T and someone should be using it.

To Andy Griffith I leave an odd combination of fear and respect. Do with it what you will.

To anyone I may have forgotten as I am now realizing I need to bail for the airport…I leave you my apologies for omitting you and you may pick through whatever is left over…

 

Okay ya’ll…it’s airport time.

 

Peace Out and (hopefully) I’ll see ya’ll later!!