Meeting in the middle

How did this all start? Remember those books back when we were kids and you could choose the ending or at least the next sequence in the book? I think they talked about it in the movie 'Big' with a young Tommy Hanks.

I was sitting in the Rockfish in downtown Annapolis enjoying a happy hour drink when the V.I. Daily News called me on my cell. I went outside the pub because that's what a respectbale young man does when potential employers call.

There was snow on the ground – I think it was right after a blizzard. It was very cold and I left my coat on the back of the bar chair.

It was OK because my future employer wasted little time and got down to brass tacks, which impressed me. He offered me a job to be the lone sports writer for this little publication in paradise. I had initially applied to the newspaper from my iPhone while standing atop a mountain in Maine a few months earlier.

Now at that exact moment, I was standing in the snow without a paying job or a coat and this question was asked of me.

“Would you like to work for the V.I. Daily News?”

I told boss that I would call him in the morning, thanked him profusely and politely hung up. Since I didn't even know where the U.S. Virgin Islands were located, I immediately called a good friend who is the only person I knew who had ever visited Rock City.

I could tell he was happy with the news but it also struck a nerve in him. At that moment, Nick Wassum was completely motivated. He had to come here. I think for Nick, it was already determined before I hung up with him (and even before I accepted the gig).

“Oh yeah, Nick has been wanting to live there for years,” his older brother, Jon, told me. “I think he's been mentally preparing for the move since his first visit.”

I won't get into the specifics that surround Nick's debut on these islands but it would put that Max Tucker guy to shame.

Less than a month later, my beautiful girlfriend and I were living in a one-bedroom bunker in the brush near Charlotte Amalie and I was annoying high school volleyball coaches with nightly phone calls about how their team performed in the game that night.

I think I started this blog the day before I flew here for good. To some unknown island in the Caribbean. That I have never visited in my life.

At about the same time, Nick started a mental countdown in his head for when he (and his lovely girlfriend) would join me in paradise and everything would be bliss. The only treacherous obstacle: he had a killer job, wore a suit to work everyday and was getting paid a lot of money. His girl also had a solid gig and went to work with great mutual friends.

Why pick up and leave?

Now I'm not saying that reading my shock-and-awe rants on this bloggy blog poured fuel on the fire. I'd like to think it did. I'm selfish like that.

It will be two years for me this February. Nick and Kerrie moved here three months ago. And I might add, they are killing it here. This kid left a great job, followed his dream and is chasing it before it slowly hides behind the horizon. Kerrie, who had never lived anywhere outside the D.C-metro in her life, is doing the absolute same.

They are riding the big wave that life sometimes throws you. I freaking love them for that.

Just the other night, Nick said, “We haven't been in you blog because we haven't done anything yet.”

I couldn't disagree more, my friend. On this island -- you can ask other misfit veterans -- people come and go. Drinking buddies, fellow sports fans and genuine good people spark your whole social existence here and then before you know it, they hit it big in Dallas, feed the Alaska fix, sail the Mediterranean Sea, get engaged to a French girl and move to London, take it easy in Illinois for a few or decide to travel the country and not have a worry in the world.

You know who you are.

Having Nick and Kerrie here is a new blend of life for me. Great people I grew up with in Herndon, Va. moved here to share this dream with me. It's a priceless gift and if I don't show appreciation more often, then I must apologize.

Wow. Strange memories inside this sweaty hotel room on St. Croix. For some reason, I wanted to pick the right night to write about these good people and tonight, I hit the parlay. (Calm down Chico, I got a great one in the works for you, my friend).

And on that note, I believe it is time to rest my weary head. I'm truly blessed to have such chronic friends on this island, Rocky City, New Jersey, Virgina, So Cali, Albuquerque, New Mexico, Cleeeeeeveland, Oh-hi-Ohh (OK, time to take Sublime off Pandora).

Salud! See you guys on the flip side. And good night.