Hey Old Hat Blog Readers,

I've been out traveling for work. A lot. So forgive me for my absence if you can. As a matter of fact, I leave for another shoot in just a couple hours. So today's blog will be short, but oh so sweet. 

A couple months ago we went out to The University of Utah to capture stills and video for the upcoming football season. One of the things we did while we were there was shoot some photographs for their throwback uniforms that they just unveiled recently. 

Here's some of those shots. 

 

I completely forgot that it was my turn to blog today. So...I'm going to turn your attention to what I've been working on the past day or so: releasing information about Old Hat Sports Branding's latest rebrand!

Here is a small glimpse of the logos that Jared created. Hannah, Tricia, and Zac also played major parts in this process.  Rebrands are not easy, y'all. It takes a village and great cooperation from an awesome client like NMJC.

      

 

To see the complete set of logos, click here. And check back with Old Hat Sports Branding as I add more news stories and our latest work!

I love my grandparents. They're all dead now but I still love them. Without them and their guidance I don't know where I'd be today.

My parents divorced when I was 7. The only time I really saw my dad was when he was coaching my baseball team or when we went to Texas Tech football games. My mother worked all the time and was hardly ever around. So a good portion of my childhood was spent hanging out with my grandparents. Everyday after school, every weekend and almost all summers were spent with them.

My grandparents grew up poor during the great depression. They knew what it meant to have nothing and what it felt like to struggle for what little they did have. They knew the importance of hard work and understood the sacrifices that were required to make ends meet. Many of the lessons they learned in those difficult years were passed on to me and have served me well over the years. 

In addition to important life lessons, other things were passed on to me as well. For example my dad’s father loved to play guitar. I would sit and watch him for hours strum and sing. He wasn’t all that great but he taught me what he knew. To this day I think of him every time I pick up my guitar.  Both my grandmothers were very religious women. They’d both take me to church on Sundays and both loved to read stories from the bible. Even though these things ended up having the opposite affect on me I think they’re both responsible for my intense interested in religious and spiritual matters. Then there’s my mother’s dad, the man that taught me how to be a man. Almost everything I needed to know about how to function in the world I learned from him; from how to shave to how to change the oil in my car, he taught me a lot. I also picked up his love of reading; the man would read just about everything. His book collection (a library really) was extremely eclectic. He had books ranging from Shakespeare’s classics to UFO’s and Bigfoot, from Homer’s Iliad to the hunt for Atlantis. Nothing was beyond his interest.

I miss grandparents a lot; not only did they raise me but they were my first and best friends. Over the years I guess I’ve had some difficulty letting them go.

Last week I went back home to visit. While I was there my mother and I went to my storage unit. We had gone to get some furniture but ended up finding boxes upon boxes of my grandparent’s things. There were boxes full books, keepsakes, clothes, and jewelry. It was all taking up so much room! Over half of that storage unit was filled with their belongings. We spent hours going through boxes, flipping through books, reading through business papers and looking at pictures. There were a lot of great memories in there; more than would ever fit in my in my tiny house. I guess that’s why they were in storage to begin with.

On the way home my mother said, almost in passing, if you weren’t hanging on to all that stuff you could quit lugging it around, maybe get rid of your storage unit and save money. When she said that it dawned on me that this was a perfect metaphor for why I was having such a difficulty time getting over my grandparent’s deaths. That storage unit and it’s endless boxes are a physical representation of the emotional baggage I mentally cling to and have lugged around for all these years. I don’t know why I insist on keep all this stuff. It’s not like any of it is ever going to bring them back. It’s not like those books are going to tell me things I don’t already know about them. They’re just dusty old boxes taking up space preventing me from truly moving on. It isn't their belongs that matter, it's all the life lessons that matter. It's all the time we spent together that matter. That's what I should keep and cherish not their junk.

I’m planning on going back this fall to empty out my storage unit. I plan on selling and donating everything I can bring myself to part with because after all, it's just stuff and stuff gets forgoten about and stuff collects dust.  

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