My name is Brad. A while back I noted that I’m the happiest person I’ve ever met, and now I’m blogging about living the good life, the simple way. It’s a journey for what matters — I’m still on it, and now you can follow my escapades through the extraordinary and the everyday.
I write. I dance. I seek out adventures and simple pleasures, along the way drinking lots of tea and trying to solve the mysteries of life.
Welcome to Brad’s guide to happiness.
Who knows what we’ll find.
Part of my hike in Ma On Shan
ABOUT BRAD
I’ve rock climbed the stalactites of some of Thailand’s most beautiful spots. I’ve hiked to a remote settlement in Cambodia’s jungle. I’ve climbed China’s Emeishan Mountain in a day. I’ve learned archery in Japan and studied Environmental Impact Analysis in Hong Kong SAR. I’ve wandered the freezing backcountry of Songpan, stared down from the Petronus Towers of Kuala Lumpur, and explored the underground malls of Seoul. I’ve seen a cobra in the wild, climbed out and on top of moving jeeps, jumped off 50-foot lakeside cliffs, plummeted out of a plane at higher than 10,000 feet, swam under freezing waterfalls, danced on bars, and danced under the stars. I’ve gotten massages in mega-spas, prayed at Shinto shrines, stared into a volcano, attended a Chinese funeral, and traveled by sleeper train. I’ve eaten raw horse, lotus-seed paste cakes, chicken feet, pigeon brain, pig’s face, Luzon mangoes, and ostrich steak.
I’ve seen a Broadway play, jumped off a few fast-moving boats, learned and taught tai chi, written four novels (at least), worked as a newpaper/online reporter, rock-climbed riverside cliffs and Lookout Mountain, won a trophy speaking Cantonese, published a few magazine articles and escaped college with “summa cum laude” on my degree.
It hasn’t all been fun and games: I’ve gotten lost in a Malaysian jungle, been stung by jellyfish twice and rescued by strangers, gone to a Hong Kong hospital for food poisoning, been stranded without cash and taken by police who didn’t speak English, taken a shower with a rat for company, trudged through a muddy lagoon, been attacked by a monkey, frozen my buns off on one of the coldest days in South Korea’s winter when the airport lost my bag, escaped the ocean by climbing knife-sharp coral rocks, and been beaten to a pulp in kendo by a middle-school-aged girl standing about a foot shorter than me.
I’ve seen the kind of poverty that can make a cold man lose his lunch, the skulls of genocide victims, a prison that displays mankind at its worst, enslaved prostitutes trafficked away from their homes, a leper oozing in the hot sun, a deformed beggars crawling filthy streets on an old skateboard, police officers beating down a suspect in the street, and men and women doing the sort of drugs that will strip everything you hold dear away before they kill you.
I’ve had my pride stripped off, my heart broken to pieces, my faith in everything challenged.
Along the way, though, I’ve found things to believe in, encountered love in unlikely places, connected with nature and human beings in ways too special for the internet to convey. The spectrum of individuals I’ve crossed paths with is beyond categorizing, and I’ve shared the good and the bad with some of the most amazing men, women, children and animals you’d ever hope to meet.
But I’m just getting started…
Current Occupation: Personal Trainer/Tai Chi instructor
Current Location: Knoxville, TN
ABOUT NICK (our occasional contributor)
Half British/half American. Born in the Philippines. Raised in Tennessee. Left for DC in 2003. Traveled, adventured, sweat, bled, laughed, cried, learned. Still learning. Life is crazy and beautiful.
Current occupation: Researcher/Graduate student
Current location: Washington, DC
ABOUT MATT (in his own words)
Posted below is a slightly edited version of Matt’s introductory post from summer of 09′. Please take a few minutes to check out his story:
Hello all, my name is Matt Morris. I’m a long time friend of Brad’s, who contributes weekly to this website. This intro is meant to give all those who don’t know me or who are new to the site a somewhat brief introduction to my past and present, as well as a look into my friendship with Brad and some of the work I do for Life of Adventure.
I was born in 1984 in a hospital in East Ridge, which is a small town right beside the small city of Chattanooga in southeast Tennessee. I grew up exclusively in Chattanooga, moving only once, when I was 12 from one suburban neighborhood to another 5 miles away. I was a good student in junior high and high school and always a goofball but with a touch of wit. I wasn’t really a good student in my elementary years, and I think it’s rather unusual to jump up in your grades after your pattern has been established. I’m sure it happens sometimes though, especially if you have the right teachers around you, which was kind of my case. But hey, that’s a story for another day.
In my sophomore year of high school, I came into the Christian faith, which I still practice sincerely to this day. And in my junior year, in an introductory Spanish class, I met Brad, who was then a sophomore. It was a cool “coincidence” that we ended up meeting, since in our large school (1,700+) two good students in different years wouldn’t wind up in the same class too often. But I had put off the foreign language requirement, while Brad was hoping right in, so we bumped into each other. Mr. Peck, our very memorable instructor, liked to break down the class into small groups to practice our new language skills, so this gave Brad and me several chances to deepen our friendship. Spurred by my recent conversion, I was just starting to write on a consistent basis and with a serious tone. Brad had typed up his second novel over the previous summer, so he was way ahead, but he certainly didn’t turn up his nose at the rare kindred spirit on the high school frontier. By the end of the year, he was helping to type up and even writing the forward to my first major work, an autobiographical anthology. It was totally melodramatic and over-the-edge personal. In other words, it was exactly what a sixteen-year-old should have been writing. Still, when some of the girls who were the subject of some of the writings caught wind of what was going to be in there, they were a little freaked out. I quickly realized (to some extent) the error of my ways and cut the personal stuff for the final draft. From there, I shared it with many friends and received a lot of positive feedback. The animosity and social rejection over the rougher, early versions of the work proved a real personal challenge to me. But thankfully, I always had the perspective to understand that it was the scope of the honesty in the writings that drew their ire, and not the quality of the product. So while I may seem above romance in some writings, let this paragraph reassure all the well-meaning hopeless romantics that have been their own worst enemy in the pursuit of love, I’ve been there and “I feel your pain.”
In 2002, I graduated from high school and took the 97 mile trip up the road to the University of Tennessee. It was there that I majored in music and thus made the transition from a committed high school musician to a full-time student of the art. (My main instrument is the trombone by the way.) I was behind most of the other students ability-wise in that first year, mainly due to the fact that I had so few private lessons in my high school days. But I worked hard, maintained my scholarships, and earned the respect and friendship of many professors and students in our dirty worn-down music building.
The fact that Brad spent most of his college years at UT helped us in maintaining our friendship, although being driven, focused students in different majors limited our face-time somewhat. When he went to Hong Kong for the 04/05 school year, Brad did call me on occasion, and he was even courteous enough to make sure it wasn’t in the middle of the night. It was also in that school year that I made just enough time in my schedule to take a few writing courses, and they proved to be simultaneously a refreshing change of pace from the music that was dominating my schedule, as well as a nice introduction to the cool piece of art known as the fiction short story. (Full stories are posted on the site. Just click the link.)
In May of 2006 I graduated from UT with my Bachelor of Arts degree and commenced looking for work in the arts. I wasn’t picky, but still, it took a while. The search dragged through the summer and then through the fall, and I got frustrated. It wasn’t just the job search. The used 95’ Ford Probe that had served me so faithfully during my college years was now breaking down, and I had to find new wheels. Also, my home church in Chattanooga, which had been such a beacon of love and support for me through my school years, was in the midst of a very serious conflict. In all three areas, my frustration was heightened by people’s inability to be honest and straightforward with me. Whether a company had already hired someone, a person wasn’t going to sell their car to me, or a long-time member of our church wasn’t going to attend anymore, these things would not have hurt as bad if they were told to me plainly shortly after the other party’s decision had been made. It was during this period that my already strong appreciation for honesty was put in the crucible. I emerged with any even clearer understanding of its importance in reflecting love in this world. Lies and withholdings of truth are disrespectful, and love cannot begin with disrespect.
But eventually, things got better. A lot better. First off, my second cousin had moved into town with his family that summer to serve as pastor of a Methodist church not too far away from me. I left my old and formerly dear church, not because they fought, but because they wanted to move on by running others off, not lovingly dealing with the issues. In September I began attending my cousin’s church, and the people were quite a blessing to me, as I healed from the spiritual wounds of my season of conflict. Having a family member as a pastor is very neat too. Our conversations can get pretty no-holds-barred in their honesty and while respectful, he knows he can be a little blunter with me than the average member of his congregation. And that’s all good, believe me.
In November, I finally found a good car being sold by a good guy at a good price. He was from the same small town as some of my older relatives, and we even realized after a few conversations that he had cut my great-grandmother’s lawn at some point back in the 60’s. So I bought the car, and it’s still running great (knock on wood.)
And lastly to the job. A few years prior to my graduation, a slightly older friend of mine had gotten a job playing trombone on cruise ships. We’d shared a few conversations over the phone during my senior year, and he’d given me enough details to pique my interest about the gig and even offered me some advice on preparation. I’d done a few auditions for ship gigs that summer but with no luck. Then finally in November, just days after finding the car, I auditioned for the 3rd time, and this time I got it. I signed up for a 4 month contract to start in the New Year (07’) and scrambled to get all my medicals ready for international travel. The last Sunday at my new church, my pastor cousin called me up at the end of the service. He asked if anyone in the congregation would like to join the two of us at the altar to pray for me. There are about 75 in regular attendance at this church, and I had only been going for five months, so I’d really only met about 30 people. At least 50 came to the altar. It was a really nice moment, because it underscored how quickly God can replace your frustrations with blessings. In literally just a season, I had found good wheels, a good church, and what many would call a dream job.
When I began writing this introduction, I was on 4,000 passenger ship in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. Now as I put the finishing touches on it, I’m back at home in that Chattanooga suburb. I’ve spent 23 of the last 30 months living on cruise ships, almost 2 whole years of my life sleeping on the sea. And I’m not done yet. I’ll be spending the fall (of 09’) on a ship ported out of Florida, a common cruise ship state, near Cocoa Beach and Cape Canaveral. In the last 2 and a half years, I’ve gone to Houston, Mobile, Tampa, New York, Boston, Portland, Maine, and Key West, Florida. In Mexico, I’ve visited Costa Maya, Playa Del Carmen, Cozumel, Progresso, and Merida. I’ve also ported in the Canadian provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, as well as the Caribbean ports of Montego Bay, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Freeport and Nassau in the Bahamas. So have I had adventures? Well, you know…
There’s another cool thing about cruise ship work, that I think the average outsider may not be aware of. The vast majority of the crew members are not Americans. Now we can debate the ethics of outsourcing whenever you wish, but the fact remains that for me this has been a neat benefit. And I wish to pass that benefit on to you, the dutiful readers of this website. That’s why I’ve already begun interviewing my foreign friends on the ships. I will edit and post those interviews here on the site, in the hopes that both international travelers and home bodies alike can learn along with me about the world outside our borders. Brad and I are both excited about this part of my future contributions.
Speaking of Brad, I want to get back to him to wrap up. Most of our readers know him pretty well now through his posts, so I feel it wise to conclude my introduction by listing some of the similarities and differences I have with my good friend. First off, for an intellectual, an academic, I think I’m very positive. Brad is more positive than most of the average college-educated, top-of-their-class kids I know, but I think I do hold a little less cynicism than even him. And I like that about myself.
I believe in being active, and I enjoy a nice view. But I am nowhere near as into physical fitness and outdoormanship as Brad is. Those things connect to him on a different spiritual plane, one I may discover someday but currently remain ignorant of. Brad is also more focused than me and will work harder towards achieving a goal that he sets. However, my goals, plans, and interests stay steadier than Brad’s, and my achievements come not from challenging myself to the extremes (as you’ve seen Brad do on this site) but from consistent good effort. It’s a little more boring, but it does allow me to sneak up on people success-wise from time to time.
I am still a proponent of organized religion; Brad has cooled to the idea of church in recent years. I love sports, and I don’t know how I’d fill the hours without them. Brad appreciates a world-class athlete but doesn’t understand the cultural obsession with athletics. I read the first Harry Potter book and enjoyed it. Brad could probably quote all six (or is it seven?)
I know Brad wears a little ego on his sleeve. Now the cocky streak is something we have in common, but I rarely show mine, because I strangely but truly have a parallel streak of humility that runs down to the bone. When the doors are closed, and I’m by myself, I may stare at the mirror and tell the guy looking back that I’m his biggest fan. But when it comes to telling you how to run your life, I walk on eggshells, constantly aware that I might be over-stepping my knowledge of the situation.
In defense of Brad’s occasional arrogance, I will remind the reader that this was not only a young man that grew up absorbing adventure novels, he’s actually been pretty successful in turning his life into one: hopping over to Japan within months of becoming a legal adult, hitchhiking through third world countries at 19, spending his entire sophomore year at a university in Hong Kong, and these crazy, midnight marathon hikes, my goodness. So if he’s a little proud, that’s okay. As long as it’s just a little.
And I’ll also add that as Brad’s friend, I’ve seen him challenged. I’ve seen him defeated. And I have a feeling that like me, he has a humble streak. How deep it runs, I still don’t know. But I hope that as friends we can encourage and counsel each other enough to be humble in all of life’s adventures without having to be humbled by them. I pray that same blessing for all of you, my new peeps.
=Matt=
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