Time to Get Busy Living

My name is Ryan Smith, I’m 39 years old, and I have six months to live.  Okay, two of those statements are technically false, and oddly enough, even though I live in Los Angeles, I’m not lying about my age.  My real name is Scott Smith. Ryan is my middle name, but my whole life I have never been called Scott, except by new teachers, tele-marketers, and the IRS. I guess the more important lie I should address is the whole “six months to live” part. Now, as far as I know, I’m not dying, so, I’m sorry if I worried you. I’m speaking to my friends and family specifically. If you don’t know me, it probably makes no difference to you, and if you hate me, sorry for getting your hopes up.

You see, on July 5, 2011, six months from today, I will be turning 40 years old.  And I’m panicking. Okay, maybe panicking is too strong a word. What is it called when you have an overpowering fear or anxiety about something? Oh, well, then yes, I’m panicking. I know this is nothing new and I’m not the first person to feel that way.  But I do feel my anxiety is rare considering I’m not particularly concerned with the getting older part. For one, I am in better health than I ever was in my twenties. And I’m in way better shape. In fact, if I was not going bald (curse you genetics) I would lay odds that 39 year old Ryan could easily beat 25 year old Ryan in the prestigious, yet made up, “Most Handsome Guy Contest”. Also, as a character actor, the older I get, the more marketable I become. So why all the fuss?  Maybe I can explain it better by looking back to a time when I had a ton of hair on top of my head and none south of the border.

When I was 12 years old, I recall playing a large scale, outdoor version of hide-and-seek with my friends David Heller, Albert Salopek, and a handful of other kids who shall remain nameless, because, well, I have forgotten their names. The objective was to hide anywhere within a 4 or 5 house perimeter, and after a set period of hiding time, you could make a run for home base. If you could make it back to home base without getting caught, you were safe. Well, the good news is, I won. The bad news is, I hid about 10 blocks away, got lost, and it was getting dark. I was still “hiding” about an hour after the last guy was caught. Parents got involved because I was a missing child at this point. And Mr. Salopek was not too pleased with me when he finally found me, since I was spending the night and I was his responsibility.

So how did I turn a fun kids game into a nightmare? Easy. By getting the real objective of the game completely wrong. I thought the goal was to “stay alive” and win. But the real objective was to experience the thrill of seeing how dangerously close you could get to being caught and still make it to home base.  The getting caught/losing part was irrelevant. Sadly, this is pretty much how I’ve been playing the game of life for 39 years.

I have failed at living. Not the breathing, heart beating, normal body function part. I totally nailed that.  But the supposedly fun part of life, the part where you try new things and take risks.  Sure, I’ve had my moments. I tried sushi and ended up liking it. But if it wasn’t for the fear I wouldn’t impress my date and the even greater fear of not getting laid, I would still never know that raw tuna on a splotch of rice could taste so damn good. If you’ve never tried sushi, trust me, it’s way better than I just made it sound. The way I see it, I have wasted a large portion of my life worrying about the outcome of taking even the smallest risk. And I’m sick of it.

So, as scary as this is for me, here’s my goal with this blog: I’m going to cram 39 years of living into the next six months and document it, so I can turn 40 feeling like I’ve done something with my life. Nothing like waiting until the last minute right?  I have some things in mind that I’d like to do. Take a trip abroad, do volunteer work, things of that nature. But I thought to make this more fun and to help me think outside my comfort zone, I’d like for you, the reader (god I hope there’s more than one reader) to do this for me: In the comment section, suggest things for me to do. Anything. They don’t have to be big or crazy things. (FYI, jumping out of an airplane is off the table, so don’t waste your time suggesting that.) In fact, I’m really looking for the little things that make life worth living that I can almost guarantee you I have missed out on. Stuff I can do every day to feel like I’m not wasting away in my fleece robe in front of my TV and Xbox360. I may not be able to get to everything, but I will commit to trying a minimum of one new thing per day. And I will report back here often, in case you’d like to check in on my progress. I’ve already accomplished one of my goals, starting a blog, so that’s one thing I can check off my list. And now, as I sit here in my fleece robe, glistening from an “Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into” cold sweat, I await your ideas. No pressure to respond, but remember, I only have six months to live.