My Last Will and Testament

Sitting in an airport terminal at 5:25 in the morning is not my idea of a dream vacation.

Between 1983 and 2000, there were 568 plane crashes worldwide. Out of the collective 53,487 people that were onboard, 51,207 survived, over a 90% survival rate. As I pulled up the covers in my hotel room merely four and a half hours ago, I shuffled through the channels to find a soothing flick that would coax me into a quick forty winks of rest. For some reason, I stopped on the Sy-Fy channel where Final Destination was playing. Now I don't bring this up having any demonic predictions that my plane won't make it to Seattle this morning, however if for some lunatic coincidence that does happen, let this be a legal document willing away my life's possessions.

To my best friend Niels, I leave you with every stinky pair of basketball shoes that I have ever owned since college, just as a reminder of how sweaty of a beast I was in the post.

To Keith Tronic, I leave you with my pre-paid membership to Costco. I know you're obsessed with that place. Have a seat in the wicker-woven patio furniture and enjoy an almond covered chocolate bar on my behalf.

To the Rhinestone Cowboy, I leave you my bike, my goggles, and all of my running shoes. I thank you in behalf of getting me involved in the most hippocratic addiction I have ever encountered in my entire life.

To Richard Briggs, I leave you with my four sexy suits and my entire beautiful tie collection. Remember to always suit up and continue searching for that girl with the yellow umbrella.

To Jeremiah Rawson, I leave you the cane that I purchased in North Carolina that secretly has a machete hidden inside of it. It's probably the manliest most debonair item that I own, rightfully so, you'll treat it well.

To Trisha and Jessica, I leave you an unopened carton of rocky road ice cream that's still sitting peacefully in my freezer. Enjoy it with a side of milk, just for me.

To Scott Wimmer, I leave you with my entire Upper Deck Basketball card collection, some 6,000 members running strong. Hold on to those things, one day that Cedric Ceballos Rookie card might be worth a solid $1.25.

To Liz Wallis, I leave you the rights and ownership of my newest yet to be created blog, www.crazyauntiegwen.com. Run with it Liz, I think that nutcase can really go places.

To Robbie Morrison, I leave you my snowboard and all of my winter gear. Take good care of it as you go shred the gnar every winter from here on out.

To Bryan Uhri, I leave you my iPod, my MacBooks, my iPhone, my iPad, and anything else created by Apple so that you can go burn them in a field somewhere. I know you hate this company more than I hate the state of Michigan.

To my little sister Jazmin, I leave you anything I own that is related to Ohio State. All of my hats, shirts, jerseys, mini helmets, keychains, stickers, Buckeye necklaces, jackets, decorative pins, Brutus bobbleheads, all of it. At least someone with the last name Bybee needs to keep cheering on the Buckeyes.

To Mike Langston, I leave you the two posters hanging on my walls, one of the hallowed Mr. Bryant, the other of the sacred Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Those two items of wall art have really taken me places.

To Holland Olsen, I leave with you my most prized possession. My seven life journals written from my senior year of high school up until this point. Someone out there must tell my story, nobody better at that than you.

To my wife, eh, who am I kidding...

If you're not on the list, don't think that I don't L-word you. I really do. It's just that a single 27-year old guy only has so many possessions that are worth two cents.

The attendant just called out general boarding for flight 2263 to Seattle, WA. Let's pray that I don't end up in the 10% group of people who forgot to put on their seatbelts.