FknBucky

Monday. I hope everyone is excited to tackle a new week. If you find yourself dreading the work week then it is time to start looking at how to make some changes. I’m going to say some mind blowing stuff right now so hang on tight. YOU ONLY GET ONE LIFE. One. As in ONE. Here is the real kicker. None of us know how long the ride last. Due to ZERO fault on your part, your life could be done in a few hours. A few days. Heck a few years. I was blessed in the fact that I understood this at an early age. I didn’t give a F&$# what people thought about me because I woke up everyday ready to do life the way I wanted. Mind you I didn’t steal things because thieves are scum and I went out of my way to bring everyone along for the ride. I actively looked for the people usually left out so I could bring them in. I know that feeling of left out and it sucks. I truly believe you have to experience things to understand them. Maybe that is my life. I’m supposed to help others get off the bench and into the game of life. I don’t care what happens to me, I will never ride the pine.

I am reminded of a time back in the snowboarding days. Sorry I know I keep going back to this well, but I miss it. So much. Not being able to snowboard is the one thing that truly makes me so sad about the accident. It was mine. It was my meditation, my sanctuary, and my forever love. Only people that have lived that lifestyle understand how precious those moments are. I do remind myself I was lucky enough to have had the times I did. The friends that I made were more like family. We are all spread out now and most of them have kids, real jobs, and been domesticated as that is what you do. I do however know for a fact every once in a while they like me look to the sky and say a quiet thank you. We had those times that no one can ever take away from us. The flaming rail slides in my backyard, the Pantera mosh pit at 3 AM in the Leadville house, the first chair on powder days, the beers in the afternoon paid for by the green card, and the thousands of other memories I cherish. It was during this time a moment happened that I think of from time to time.

You don’t have to have special powers to be super hero to others. My real name is Allen. Some of you probably didn’t know that so boom mind blown moment. Many people ask me why the nickname Bucky. I almost never tell. The way it started was me seeing Bronson Pinchot on the Tonight show. He played Balki on the TV show perfect strangers. He said that the name Balki was a nickname he had been given while in elementary school. When asked why he got that nickname he smiled to himself and said no way was he telling. I never wanted to know something so badly. Hence from then forward I didn’t tell. Still don’t so if you are one of the trusted who know the secret, stay trusted and keep your mouth shut. The guessing is actually my favorite part. People come up with some wild stories. Makes me laugh.

There was a kid name Billy John Tom (BJT and absolutely not the real name) that worked at the mountain. He was a super nice kid, but he had a smell about him. I don’t know why and didn’t ask him. He had a massive heart and was down to help anyone anytime. I felt bad that he was alienated by his peers, but lucky for me I could help. I was popular. People looked up to me on the mountain. I’m not being arrogant just being real. I was good looking, confident, funny, and I was a pretty good snowboarder. I was also broke as F&$# every day so I had to be funny to get girls. My man BJT was not those things. Almost daily the subject of where Bucky came from would come up and people would make crazy guesses. Obviously none of them were close to the truth. It became more of a game than people actually wanting to know I believe, but again the mystery part of it made it fun.

One night after work I was having a few beers (like 40 probably) with a beautiful girl from Columbia (the Country), and my guy BJT was there. Maybe one day I’ll write a blog about the girl and her roommate. Or maybe not. The subject of the nickname came up and I decided right there I was going to tell BJT the truth. I asked him to keep it to himself which he did, but from that moment on he knew something nobody else did. He was “in” a small group and felt welcomed. He felt like he belonged. I am good at reading people and knowing (most times) what to say to make them feel better about themselves. First of all to do this you can’t lie. Whatever you tell someone to lift them up must be true or it will only cause more hurt. Lying is never the right option. I was still pretty young in those days, and I’m not sure what made me want to tell BJT the secret. I never regretted doing so.

He never told a soul what my secret was and I couldn’t buy a more loyal friend. He knew I didn’t have to tell him, but I did out of kindness and he appreciated it. I bet if I become famous and someone offered him $100,000 dollars to tell the story there is a good chance he would turn it down. Mainly because my other crap bag friends would do it for $11.47 which makes them pricks. The $.47 is a shout out to my favorite transgender friend that reads this blog.

Look for the person that feels left out and then find a way to get them in. It will make you feel great to do and just might change someone’s life in the process. You don’t know someone’s history and everyone at the end of the day simply wants to be part of the group, to be accepted, and just have friends. I’ve always told myself that I’ll be that friend and do all I can to make sure someone isn’t left out. You don’t have to travel around the globe to make a difference in the world. Sometimes you can make a difference in the room you’re currently standing in.

Do kind things.

FknBucky