“I told myself before the start that this was either going to be the dumbest thing I’d ever done or one of the greatest. And it was.”-abk

Well. THIS👆🏽 is where we left off last November. I had just finished the New York City Marathon Volume 2, exclaiming both how incredibly wonderful and ridiculously stupid it was that I had done it again.

Fast forward to this past Tuesday, and there, sitting in my inbox, was this year’s invitation from Team Arthritis Foundation ready for Volume 3. Run again. Raise some money. Let’s go!

Nope. Not this year. I can’t. And it kills me to have to say that. For one, I loved it. Volumes 1 and 2 were both mind-blowing and life-changing. But more importantly, to have to say “I can’t” to anything, which is a phrase not allowed in this household’s vocabulary. Because as you should know by now, I believe anything is possible (no matter how far-fetched), and I’m on a journey to live it.

But not this year. Not with my foot and my shin and my hip. I’m not going to register. I’m not going to convince myself. I’m not going to think twice about it. Because as much joy, fulfillment, and perspective as the two experiences gave me, both races beat the absolute shit out of my body.

Pounding my joints on the pavement over and over is literally one of the worst things in the world for an arthritis patient. So when I told Team Arthritis Foundation two years ago that I wasn’t running in honor of anyone and that I was the one who was actually afflicted, they almost passed out. What? Good God, man. Isn’t it painful?

Yes. Yes it is.

—

“Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates.”-Forrest Gump

“I don’t care what mama said. What did mama do?”-abk

On the Saturday before the first marathon, I vividly remember sitting in the NYC hotel room, watching Penn State vs Michigan State football, talking on the phone with my sister. Christy and Banks were out visiting friends in the city, and I had my feet up nervously awaiting Round 1. My sister asked me, “Why are you doing this?”, and I had no answer that day. Well…I do now.

I observe a lot of idle dialogue, and for whatever reason, it is a massive pet peeve of mine. Lots of “you can do anything you put your mind to” rah rah and not as much actually doing it. I got to thinking, “I rarely pay attention to a talker talking, but I always pay attention to a doer doing. Maybe I should DO more myself. Maybe that might help someone.”

Case in point: I hardly ever listened to a word my mother told me (she knows this), but I undeniably admired and still admire the fact that at age 69, she LIVES her passion (piano) daily. She doesn’t talk about it. She just does it. And that has been a silent, guiding influence for my entire life.

My son got the “doesn’t listen” gene also, and I just giggle, because of course it came from me. But he watches every move I make and every single thing I do. So instead of telling him he can be whatever he wants, I’m just going to show him by how I live. He’s smart. He’ll get it.

—

“I’m a citizen of the world.”-Benj, 2017

“You can’t write that. It’s not true.”-Christy, 10 seconds later

I wrote this sentence in the initial “About Benj” section on the website, and Christy, rightfully so, put me in my place. Her comment stuck with me because it turns out I was writing what I WANTED to be, not what I was. And to get where I wanted to be, I had to get to work. Action. So I haven’t stopped for a day since then.

Two of those days, Race Day, I felt like a true citizen of the world, mixing and mingling with anyone and everyone. I’ll miss that this year. I really will.

But I’ve got bigger fish to fry. My continued quest to play extremely high level golf. 10 more states to explore to hit all 50. Refocus on the international exploits. Become a true citizen of the world. And if I have any chance to do and enjoy all of this, I need a healthy hip.

—

So will you tell your son that you COULDN’T do it this year?

Ha! No chance. He wouldn’t listen anyways. I’ll just go do something else. He’s smart. He’ll get it.

Have a great week.-Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

“You shouldn’t read the comments (or maybe you should).”-Benj

I’ve had a handful of life-changing moments over the past few years. Some I’ve shared with you. Some are very personal. But one, there is one, that really gave me my voice. That completely changed my life. That, combined with these other moments, caused me truly not to care anymore.

Not care? Before we go nuts here, let me be the first to tell you that I likely care more about everyone’s overall health and happiness than most. What I do NOT care about are these things that have no effect on anything. They may be minor. They may even be major. You’ve heard me refer to them as riff raff and noise. Gossip? Negativity? (I will literally get up and walk out of a room.) These things that we have absolutely no control over and that just don’t matter. Not just to me. To anyone or anything.

…like hundreds of complete strangers’ comments.

—

On July 13, 2017, I wrote an article (of which I am very proud) for an online publication in Charlotte, NC called Charlotte Agenda. It was about the importance of self-expression and individuality, illustrated by my observation that everyone in downtown Charlotte dressed exactly alike.

30,000 people read my article that week which, shall I say, is a few more than usually read my stuff. Everything was going fine until a couple of hours after it was published, I started getting texts and phone calls, “Dude, these comments are wild!”

Comments? What comments? Who in the f**k would take time to comment about such an important and serious and controversial topic as khaki pants and blue shirts? I must have hit a nerve. Comments? Seriously? Are you kidding me?

Turns out, hundreds of them, and since I was not used to this, I started reading them, and, embarrassingly, I got rattled. They questioned my name, “Benj, really?”. They questioned my sexuality. They questioned my level of style knowledge, and some even claimed that my perfectly tailored pants were too tight 🤷🏽‍♂️. (Alright, I’m giggling now.)

It leaked into Facebook, Instagram, and even LinkedIn, and so I finally just turned my phone off. For the rest of the week. I was visibly shaken, which didn’t and doesn’t happen to me very often.

It got me thinking. “What were people thinking about me? Were they serious? Were they offended? Was something going to happen to me? Was I going to get fired?” On and on.

Once it blew over later that week and literally NO ONE cared any more (did they ever?), I allowed myself to regroup and think about what all of this meant.

1. I prided myself on having thick skin. This proved I had a long way to go.

2. I prided myself on not caring what other people thought. This proved I had a long way to go.

3. Shame on me for letting other people’s opinions affect me in any way. This will never happen again.

—

“I only try and please myself.”-Ricky Gervais

Authenticity. Vision. Lack of compromise, regardless of external response. It’s been a game changer. In the short-term, I am well aware that I have missed out on followers, likes, money, and whatever so that I can be 100% me. I was absolutely dying at 40% me. I was better, but still treading water at 70% me. I am not quite 100% yet, but I’m closer than I’ve ever been, and thus more fulfilled than I’ve ever been.

I honestly believe that each person was put on this earth to be a unique individual, and then the people in our lives (love partners, friends, business partners, etc.) are just that. PARTNERS. Additive.

As individuals, we have these weird talents, ideas, and quirks that are to be used and displayed. But we often don’t use them. Because we are scared they make us look silly to “the commenters”.

We may think being the real us is silly, but AUTHENTICITY actually attracts. When I started doing ME as close to 100% as possible, I became a better person, all-around partner, father and miraculously, I now have miles more actual human friends and I have helped more actual people than I ever have.

All by being “selfish”.

All because of this little article I wrote.

All because some people who I’ve never met and likely never will got a little feisty.

About khakis.

Strange world, ain’t it?

Have a great week.- Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

“You never know what life is like until you have lived it.”-Marilyn Monroe

Imagine you are 93 years old (like my son’s great grandmother that we all visited this week). Or imagine you are 87 (like my son’s great grandfather that we all see a couple of times per month). Or imagine you are 100 or 110 or whatever.

Did you do everything that you wanted with your life? Were your priorities in order according to you, or did you conform? Did you listen to others too much? Were you focused? Were you happy? Did you have regrets?

Now imagine you are 70. Same questions. Maybe you have 30 years left to live. Maybe you have two weeks.

Now imagine you are 37 like me. Same questions. Different context. Instead of “were”, let’s try “are”. Maybe the answers are a resounding “yes”. Maybe the answer is “soon” or “will be”. Maybe you liked my 671 day plan and are a work in progress.

If you passed away tomorrow, would you be pleased with how you spent your last seven days?

—

“When you grow up, you tend to get told that the world is the way it is…try to have a nice family life, have fun, save a little money. That’s a very limited life. Life can be much broader…you can change it, you can influence it…” -Steve Jobs

What if you could truly design your own lifestyle like the late Mr. Jobs designed his products? What if you could take the two or four or six things in this world that really light your heart on fire and truly design a life around them? Where every waking second, or close enough, you were doing something that was meaningful or that you enjoyed? What if everything else (I call it noise) could simply be ignored? Why isn’t that idea introduced in high school or college? What if I told you that simply DOING those things you are passionate about and SHOWING them to the world is broadening, influencing, and making the world a better place?

—

If you could do anything you wanted, what would that be? Would you be willing to sacrifice some of the things that the world tells you to care about, but that honestly don’t interest you or interest you anymore? Could you rid yourself of meaningless stuff? Would you be willing to go from living in 3,000 square feet to surviving in 800 square feet? Could you deal with the fact that your life “looks different”? What if you had to walk into a family reunion and tell everyone that you were unemployed while you did the work? What if people didn’t even consider what you were doing “work”?

Could you do it? Would you do it? So that you could do exactly what YOU wanted every single day.

—

“Success isn’t about how much money you make; it’s about the difference you make in people’s lives.” – Michelle Obama

What if pursuing your dreams, goals, and the process takes your whole life? What if it BECOMES your entire life? What if you never make a dime on it? Is that a failure? Is it a success? Is it noble or foolish, or does it really matter? Is money the compass? Does IT force you to do things you don’t want? What if you could live your dreams, but you had to reprogram yourself? When should you start? Is it even possible?

—

When I completed my collegiate soccer career, I did not feel like I was done. I felt like I was good enough. I felt like there was more.

I got a tryout with the Columbus Crew of the MLS over a snowy weekend in Cleveland, Ohio, with about 75 other players. DI kids, minor league professionals, and me. All dreamers.

There were four cuts that weekend, and I made it to the final one. But there, the truth became evident. My body couldn’t handle the rigors, and I just wasn’t good enough.

But I did it. I tried. Because I couldn’t have looked myself in the mirror if I hadn’t, and so I did. And I “failed”. And I was proud, and I still am.

—

“Just Do It.”-Nike

Have a great week. -Benj

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“dream big.”-abk

I wake up between 6:30 and 7am every day now, and it is already about 2,000 degrees outside. As I go outside to walk the dogs, it is not uncommon for one of my six golf shirts to stick to my body.

Somewhere between 8:30 and 9:30am, I make the ten minute drive to the golf course to begin my day’s work. I am well aware that my day’s work looks very different from most people’s day, but that does not make it any better or worse. It just makes it mine.

Between 6:30 and 8:30am every day, I am a 37 year old in a 90 year old man’s body, battling my old friend ankylosis spondylitis every. single. day. Because of this, the same heat that keeps most people inside takes me outside. But damn it, soothing or not, it’s still hot.

After a few weeks of trying and tweaking and observing some semblance of a routine (God forbid), I’ve turned my first big corner. And it has me both excited and nervous, which is perfect.

—

Most every day, I post a picture or video on Instagram of me golfing, and the amount of unsolicited feedback via DM, text, or otherwise has been quite useful. Words of encouragement, playful jokes, or very valuable tips from people who are actual golfers. It has turned a very solitary activity into something quite different knowing that multiple people care, proving once again that it takes a village to do anything.

At this point, I am fully immersed in my golf goal. I feel my body changing. I feel my mind changing. I feel my spirit changing. This past week, I literally whispered to myself, “I think I can do this.”

It has been a slow, methodical grind, and it has only been 90+ days. I can only imagine what the next few months are going to look like. More heat. More aches. More aggravation courtesy of this beautiful game.

Most days when I am in town, I now do a couple of hours on the range and then walk 9 holes. Walking 18 holes every day made my feet feel like I was walking on hot lava at night, so that was enough of that. Interestingly, the practice and repetition on the range provide the real value, although seeing my scores get lower and lower and lower is indeed very rewarding.

I shot 79 the other night in Iowa over 18 holes and then shot a crisp 37 over 9 just a few days later back in Mississippi. Those are still outliers, but every single facet of my game is getting better, tighter, and crisper, and the scores are getting consistently lower.

Most days, I have an internal conflict that combats increasing confidence with a “don’t get ahead of myself” mentality. Because the game, just like life, has a way of jumping up and biting me the moment I think I have it figured out. But on the other hand, if I don’t have the confidence, I am dead.

When I started this journey in April, I just wanted to get better. “Get really good” is what I told most people. Some of them laughed. I was not joking.  Now, in July, I have an attainable goal of having a single digit handicap by the end of the month (getting much, much better). I’ve found myself getting really serious. As I approach each shot, I find my heartbeat slowing, my focus sharpening, and my breath steadying. That’s a lot different from me walking up to my ball and wondering what’s for dinner that night.

I am the one who has done the work, but I am so appreciative of everyone that has taken an interest in this portion of the journey. The person who suggested a swing change. The person who suggested a grip change. The pros at the club who are willing to help in any way possible.

I don’t know that many people have heard something quite like my story, where a 37 year old just quits “work” to “play” golf every day. Except work is exactly what I do, not ordering beers until after I am done, when I am ready to pour a cold 12 pack over my head.

I started as an unofficial 14-ish handicap, went to 13.2, then 12.5, now 11.2, and trending towards a 9.7. Even now, the probability of getting to a 0 in my situation is less likely than getting struck by lightning TWICE, I’ve heard. But last week I thought to myself, “You know what, I bet a 37 year old dude with active ankylosing spondylitis running two New York City Marathons was also highly improbable.”

And that’s when I told myself for likely not the last time, “Keep your focus son. There’s a lot of noise out there.  Own your life story.”

Have a great week.-Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

“North Dakota is going to be the outlier. I just know it. I’m going to have make a special trip. Maybe Fargo for ESPN GameDay? Yes, that sounds promising.”-abk

After my trek through the heart of the country last week, I have now explored roughly 80% of this great nation. As a statistic, it is pointless, but as an activity, it has been life-changing.

This particular trip started out as an idea. An ambitious idea. It always does. And it ended with me driving almost 3,000 miles over a week across 10 states, some familiar and some brand new.

What did you do?

I golfed in Iowa and South Dakota with my friend Jay; visited an exotic cat refuge in Arkansas; explored Jackson, Mississippi; ate BBQ pork spaghetti in Memphis, Tennessee; watched a Cardinals game in St. Louis, Missouri; watched the Women’s PGA Championship in Chaska, Minnesota; explored Omaha, Nebraska; witnessed first hand the devastating floods in Missouri and Iowa; drove Route 66 in Miami, Oklahoma; and explored the coolest town you’ve never heard of called Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

I love the Midwest. The people are nice, normal, helpful, community-oriented, and just downright good. It doesn’t matter if it is Minneapolis, Indianapolis, Cleveland, Kansas City, St, Louis, or somewhere in Iowa. I have had that same good experience everywhere. The Midwest represents everything that I sometimes wish I was.

So you’ve explored 40 of the 50 states? What should we know?

Everyone is exactly the same. Everywhere. Everyone wants health and happiness and purpose and “success”, and it just gets a little twisted along the way. On this trip, I met newspaper publishers from Iowa, farmers from Illinois, Native Americans from Oklahoma, a historian from Arkansas, and a tourist from Utah. In their own way, everyone wanted the same damn thing.

So why is everyone still so afraid, or shall I say timid, around each other?

Because we are all completely different, obviously, and I think we are wired to be scared of what we don’t understand. The 40 states might as well be 40 different planets, probably more.

So we are exactly the same but completely different?

Pay attention, please. In different countries, states, cities, towns, and neighborhoods, our wanting of the same things is masked by very different qualities. Cultures, traditions, religions, behaviors, attitudes, personalities, ego, bravado, insecurities, money, power, lack of education or experience, cowboy hats, fancy clothes, and so on. But for me, that’s what makes real exploration so interesting. If you peel back all the layers, you should be able to have a drink with anybody.

Why did you go to Iowa of all places?

I like to see people in their natural habitat, and I have a friend there. The concept of vacation as an escape left me years ago. That’s why I went to Mexico City instead of Cancun. That’s why I preferred Bologna to Milan or Venice. And that’s why I went to Iowa, amongst others.

It’s a major theme of our now infamous annual golf buddy trip (coming again in September). Sure, we hit up some touristy stuff, but at least one day is dedicated to local everything. What’s your life like? Let us see and feel how you live.  People have immense pride in what is “theirs”.

So what’s the point of all of this?

Other than the obvious, there are a few things.

Selfishly, I think it would be very cool to have friends in all 50 states and all 195 countries. Like a big, global family.

But truthfully, once I started really exploring, I realized how narrow-minded my worldview was. I was embarrassed, but I knew it was something I could fix. So off I went, and once I felt both my heart expanding and breaking (depending on the circumstance), I knew I was on to something. And quite honestly, I became obsessed with seeing, doing, and feeling everything. I don’t see this changing any time soon.

195 countries, huh?

Yeah.  I’m just getting started. Stay tuned.

Have a great week.-Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

Last night, in rural Iowa, I slept in a camper for the first time. Interestingly, I have not slept in my own bed for 133 days now. I honestly don’t even know what that feels like anymore.

Sure, I like my 8 hours of sleep each night, but it’s the other 16 hours every day that now have my full and undivided attention.

When I wrote the piece Finding True Freedom  right before I left North Carolina, maybe you wondered what I meant by “true freedom”. It’s a valid question, and one that has many answers.

Two of the main categories that I was referencing were freedom to go see the world and freedom to live outside.

—

As I publish this piece, I am just leaving Chaska, Minnesota. I am roughly 1,031 miles away from the current bed that I sleep in that, you guessed it, isn’t mine.

I am also smack in the middle of a weeklong walkabout through the heart of the country, seeing people and places both familiar and brand new.

This is what I love to do. It takes a fair amount to get me truly excited these days, but when it is travel week, I get butterflies deep down reminiscent of piano recital night when I was a kid.

At some point, I had to listen to the butterflies. They were telling me something. “You love the road, Benj. Go.”

—

That’s all well and good, except I’m not 18 years old with no responsibilities, so I can’t just be gone all the time. If I can do one solid exploration or two smaller ones each month, my tank (and wallet to some extent) remain full.

During the non-travel weeks, I must play outside. Gone are the days of staring out a window on a perfect spring or fall day, wishing and wanting and wondering.

—

Do you know who my new best friend is in Biloxi?  The weatherman aka the weather, man (shout out Jay-Z).

I take a peek a couple of times per day to see what the day and week is looking like, and assuming I see sunshine, I start to feel the butterflies again.

Now that Banks is back in school, I can easily spend 4-6 hours at the golf course each day, take a quick break, then spend another couple of hours with he and Christy fishing, crabbing, or God knows what. It just has to be outside. And as you can imagine, most every bar and restaurant down here has ample outdoor seating (and cheap, cold beer).

—

Isn’t it hot outside?

Yes, but the heat relieves my aches.

Isn’t it hard to be away sometimes?

Absolutely, but it’s also extremely healthy. Plus, I have to be who I am. Plus, I have a dream (shout out MLK, Jr.).

—

Every morning I walk the 30 seconds down to the water and watch the sunrise. Every night I walk the 30 seconds down to the water and watch the sunset. Every few weeks I hit the road. I always have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, and we are even starting to catch our own food. It ain’t fancy, but it’s exactly what I CONSCIOUSLY signed up for. Because after some real self-reflection, my life priorities shifted, and it would have been foolish to just sit there and stay the same.

Have a great week.-Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

“It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.”-Author Elizabeth Stone

Have a great week.-Benj

“It’s my life, not yours. It’s your life, not theirs.”-abk

(To me)-So, what do you do?

(Me)-A lot, but so there is no confusion, I am, by society’s definition, unemployed.

I’m sorry.

No worries. It’s by choice.

Oh. Where do you live?

Currently, I split time between my in-laws’ Mississippi family farm and a small cabin on the Gulf Coast. Neither are mine.

Sounds tricky.

Everyone does their part. I mow large swaths of grass to pay rent. I am extremely grateful.

Where’s your stuff?

In these bags.

All of it?

I have my golf clubs too. And some hats.

So what do you do to make money?

Nothing currently.

Is your family independently wealthy?

No. Just saved a few bucks over the years and have very little to pay for right now. I have confidence that if I ever desperately need a dollar or two I have the skills to go find a job.

Interesting mindset.

I’m simply fully betting on myself. I’ve got some massive dreams I finally got the courage to pursue.

So what do you do all day?

Whatever I want. But to be specific, play with my son. Read, write, and take photographs. Play golf. Have big family dinners like many cultures do.

Every day?

Yep. I try to grind, get better, and celebrate every day.

Does that get old?

Silly question.

Do you have a car?

I need it to travel.

Where to?

Anywhere and as often as possible. The more real, the better.

The more real?

Yeah. I went to Alabama, Tennessee, and North Carolina last week. Next week I am headed to Arkansas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Nebraska, Iowa, South Dakota, and Minnesota. Real places.

You know there are a lot of real problems out there that could use addressing while you are out gallivanting?

I am quite aware of what’s going on out there.  Actually, more aware than ever.  Your perspective changes when you see it with your own two eyes and feel it deep down. Also, I’m not gallivanting.

Okay then smarty pants, what’s the biggest problem that you see?

That people don’t pay enough attention to themselves and what they individually really want and need, not realizing then that their capacity to fulfill their life’s purpose will shoot through the roof. Been there myself, and I see it all the time. So bringing that to light is part of my life’s work, and that’s basically what I focus on all day.

I’ve already got a regular audience of a few hundred people, whom I appreciate very much. I understand that it may take a while for  more people to find me (my fault not theirs) and truly understand what it is I am trying to do.

Audience?

Yeah, anythingbutkhakis.com.

Well I’ll be damned. You ARE doing some work.

I told you. I’m not just gallivanting. I am trying to do something no one has ever done before and help as many people as I can pursue their own dreams along the way.

Anything I can do to encourage open mindedness and free thinking and making your own path to happiness, I am more than willing to do.

Would you wear khakis?

anything but that.

Have a great week.-Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

 

“Played any golf lately?”-normal conversation starter

There is something inside of me that just wants to play. Until I was 23, that was what I knew, albeit in a different sport. Then it was time to become an adult, when continuing to play was deemed unlikely and borderline irresponsible.

That’s when most people (myself included) become bankers or insurance agents or real estate brokers to the players, or better yet, simply spectators.

As much as I love watching sports, my drive to play is still there. Last year, I (correctly) gave up competitive soccer. The last two years, I ran two marathons more as a symbol of humanity and hope than anything. And my arthritis is still ever present, but the blistering Mississippi heat gives me hours of reprieve each day.

So…during those hours, I golf. Or more simply put, at 37 years old, I gave myself permission to play again.

I have never been much of a self-doubter, but as my personal goals have gotten loftier, sometimes even I wonder what the hell I am doing. I didn’t grow up with the game, I am not getting any professional advice just yet, and golf is a massively complex problem with pitfalls around every corner.

But…I love to solve problems. And damn it, I love the game.

First, though, I had to come off of the 15 day disabled list, nursing a tender back riddled with wonderful memories. On April 17, 2019, the official start of the golfing journey, I was back in business.

Since then (45 days), I have played 23 rounds and hit the range on 12 other days. Many days, I do both.  Most rounds I walk, which is a roughly 6 mile stroll in 95 degree heat (heat index 110).  It is a solitary exercise, with at least 75 percent of my time spent alone. I’ve hit thousands of balls. I use foam rollers and exercise bands and stretch and do core exercises like most people watch Netflix. Equally as important, I do mental exercises to keep my mind sharp and engaged.

Did I mention that I completely revamped my swing? Do you have any idea how annoying it is to take 9 steps backwards before taking that first little step forward? Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to simply breathe in the Mississippi heat, much less focus?  Some days, I don’t want to do the work, but I do. Some days I ask, “Is this really possible?”, and I have to have a brief word with myself. “Do the work. It’s an honest reflection of who you are and who you want to be.”

For those of you wondering, there is no “prize”. No money. No trophy. No nothing. When I finally allowed myself to go beat hundreds of balls in the immense summer heat day after day with no cash or press clippings or Gucci watch looming, I discovered the real reward.

Have a great week.-Benj

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis and @abkgolf.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com .

“Be careful what you ask for.”-Lots of people

I will be the first to tell you that I love a fancy hotel, a good wine, a nice suit, beautiful golf courses, and fruity umbrella drinks.

I am well aware that I am on this journey that, at times, appears to be this fantasy life, a vision for freedom and happiness that unfolds a little more in my head and real life every single day.

But my passion, my deep down punch me in the gut passion, couldn’t be further from all of that.

I have always wanted a voice, not for fame or fortune, but because I’m interested in those that don’t have one. I’m interested in those that are invisible or a little unique. Maybe they are lonely or a tad bit lost. Maybe they need a second or third chance.  Maybe they are in pain, physical or otherwise. Maybe they’ve never been introduced to anything other than their current circumstance. Though on the surface you’d never know, deep down, I can certainly relate.

In a roundabout way, I got hooked when I would go to New York City as a teenager with my dad, exploring the city all day while he was in meetings. I was fascinated by the unglamorous neighborhoods and even the grimy areas. Who were these people that were never “seen”? I loved the sights, sounds, and smells of the subway. Out to Queens. Out to the Bronx. Who were these people?

In my early twenties, I read a ton, including this book called Gang Leader for a Day that further stoked my interest in human behavior and interaction.

At 23, my buddy Vinny and I walked down the “wrong” street in Baltimore one night, changing course just in the nick of time to avoid potential disaster.

In my mid-twenties, after making a literal wrong turn on my way to a Hawks game, I watched a man in Atlanta get shot and killed right in front of me.

In my late twenties, I participated in a poverty simulation, walking in someone else’s shoes for a month having to make tough decision after tough decision on extremely limited resources. It stressed me out beyond measure, and it wasn’t even real (for me).

Over the past two years, I have seen and felt deeply on my travels. The forgotten in Evansville, Indiana. The angry in New Orleans. The miscategorized in Tijuana and Mexico City.

About a year ago in rural Mississippi, I drove by this area of decrepit, old wooden shacks that looked like a swift breeze might blow them over. Some lacked roofs.  Some lacked four walls. Surely no human being lived there.

But yes. Yes they did. Entire families. An entire community.

And then, just this week, a sweet, docile black lab showed up on the porch at Christy’s family farm.

“Who is this?” I asked anyone that would listen.

“Just another dog that was likely discarded by their owner. Happens all the time.”

Discarded. Like a piece of trash.

I know. This is what I asked for. To go see the world. The real world. To feel it. To, at an absolute minimum, truly acknowledge it exists.

Because if I drink the fine wine, I best be able to scrap in the dirt.

And maybe, just maybe, finding my own true freedom will finally convince me to go get dirty.  To go help out those whose circumstances may be totally different, but knowing deep down, we are exactly the same.

Have a great week.-Benj

(If you would like a sweet black lab, please message me.)