Pull the Trigger. On Life, Career, and not being a D-Bag

By Chase Patrick Murphy

A collection of short essays that view life, family, and day to day events through the eyes of the author with the hopes that you will walk away with how to...Pull The Trigger on Life, Career, and not being a D-Bag

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chase Patrick Murphy
• Release date: Feb 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310529405

Chase Patrick Murphy

husband, father, social media influencer, blogger, published writer, foodie, wine drinker, bbq lovre, speaker, teacher, coach, comedian, kinetic, rule breaker, chef, wedding dancer, marketing specialist, do it yourselfer, jalapeno eater, kick boxer, disney fanatic, Irish, garden grower, iPad owner, drinker of carbonated water, workout enthusiast, friend maker, Texan and Driver & Restorer of 1965 Chevy Truck.

Book preview

Dedication

Introduction

Pull the Trigger

A Blog for Me...

Confidence. It's A Tricky Thing.

Get Up

Advice from Dads to Kids

Timmy Fell in the Well? Don't Call the Dog!

Save the Drama for Your Mama!

You Can't Go Home Again

The Secret Sauce and Swinging for the Fences!

A Punch to the Baby Maker!

Break the Cycle. Don't Be a D-Bag

Life and Movie Trailers

Do Your Homework

Scenes from a Mexican Restaurant

Lip Service and John Mayer

Kids Are Cool

Life Lessons from the NFL Draft

Are You Sandbagging?

The Right Thing is Rarely the Easy Thing

Climbing the Ladder and Turning Left?

Bad Guys

Choot em!

Are You A Floater Or A Swimmer?

What Version of Your Life Will Be Told to Future Generations?

Time to Run Up the Score

Don't be a Speed Bump

Shut Up! Just Shut Up!!

Hey Jude!

Nobody Dreams About Being a Backup

Sharing Is Caring, but Creating Is Better

Leave Your Mark!

Growing Is NOT Doing the Same Thing Over And Over

Disney...

Are You A Jerk?

Tell Your Story!

Are you Tom Brady or Peyton Manning?

Sh#T My Kids Say

SH#T People Say!

Read The Room!

Leave a Message at the Beep

Take Yourself Seriously!

It's a Small World After All

Somebody Spot Me!

Be Memorable, but Don't Be Chris Farley

Cds, Comic Books, Cigars and Bubble Wrap

Don't Be An Idiot!

Shaken...Not Stirred

I Wanna Go Fast!!!

Retaliation

Changing Lanes and Opening Eyes.

It's the Little Things

Time for Some Self Evaluation!

Marriage Isn't a Game

The Second Sentence

Tales of a 4th Grade Nothing

What Ifs, Greener Grass and Burning Bridges

Who the Hell Are You?

Do the Right Thing

People Need People

You Don't Have To Be Right

Zombies, Layoffs and Goals - Oh My!

Goals and Godzilla

There is a Reason the Fat Kid Gets Picked Last!

Giving Back

You Do Not Know Everything!!!

Throwing Someone under a Bus

Keeping It Real In the New Year

Boy - Do I have a Deal for You!

Poke The Box!

Do One Thing and Do It Well

You Are an Idiot

Stop Being A Big Sissy Baby!

Hey, Where's Your Bench Going?

No Thanks. I Am Fine Kicking My Own Ass.

Your Experience Doesn’t Mean Anything!

You Don't Learn Anything by Doing Things the Easy Way

Yes. The Answer Should Be Yes.

You Can't Take It with You

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the memory of my beautiful brother Michael James Murphy.

INTRODUCTION

I hope you enjoy this book. It is meant to be read in chunks and not all at once. Take your time and let the intended takeaways set in before you move onto the next message. In all honesty, I started writing the blog as a way to keep myself motivated and as a constant reminder that I was capable of more. I then put it out there and shared it with others. People read it and would mention to me that they did. It was flattering. My brother Michael started to read it too. We would discuss my postings over the phone and how my grammar and spelling sucked, but my messages were pretty compelling and sometimes fueled great conversations and occasional arguments.

Knowing that he read them, the blog became a way for me to attempt to get through to him. Since trying to fix someone face to face or over the phone usually results in an argument, I thought I might be able to get through to him with my posts. Not mentioning him by name, but adding a few subtle takeaways that could potentially get through to him. At the very least, I was able to say what I wanted to say to him without interruptions. Never getting flustered by him fighting back, as the words came off of my chest and into my iPad.

Then something unexpected happened. Michael died.

No more discussions or arguments. No more trying to get through to him. No more looking for ways to fix my brother. He was gone.

So I continued to write.

Some of the blogs in this book were written prior to his death and others were written after. The blogs are shuffled and the book isn't set in chronological order. As you read further, I will often make references to Michael. He was always a major part of this book and the inspiration behind why I felt I needed to publish it.

I never really mentioned his name in my blogs till he died. The night we got the news, I couldn't sleep, so I started to write.

I wanted to capture my feelings and thoughts at that moment and get things off my chest like I had always done with my blogs.

If you have ever lost anyone close, a lot happens in a short period of time and you often look back at everything as one big forgotten blur. I wanted to document everything and not lose that moment, no matter how painful it was.

So I wrote this:

My beautiful brother Michael.

Today I lost my brother Michael. My children saw me cry in pain for the first time.

This will be the second time in my life where my parents have had to bury a child. Second time in my life where I have had to bury a brother. The second time my sister has had to do the same. Jimmy, 26 years ago. Michael, we will bury sometime in the next few days.

A whole form of communication in my life died today. The only other person who could finish sentences, stories and punch lines to things that the two of us experienced. Gone. The only other person that could remember the same stories, just as I remembered them, about my childhood and my little brother. Gone. Dead. I could tell people the stories, but there was only one other person in this world that could remember them, as a brother would, and he is dead. Frankly, they wouldn't translate well to those who didn't live it. Like how Michael would selflessly change into a different person for the entire day, never straying from character, just so Jimmy would have a friend to play with.

My beautiful, flawed, but oh so perfect brother Michael. Dead set on making an impression on the room. My sex ed teacher. My partner in crime. The reason I have a scar on my chin.

People who would think I am the funny one or the talented one or the handsome one; never met you. By far, in so many ways, you will always be the superior brother.

My niece lost her father today.

He loved that girl more than anything or anyone in this world.

His mark on the world. My last direct connection to my brother. I, in some ways, gained a daughter. I have to make sure that she, like my kids, has every opportunity in this world. That poor little girl. Her 6th birthday is next month. My children lost their Uncle Michael.

I am hurt. I am relieved.

Every time I think about my mother and what she did for him and how much she loved him, my entire body hurts. My poor mother. My father. The rock of the family. He will be strong for my mother. Once she gets her bearings, my dad will most likely have his moment to break. He will do it alone or perhaps just in front of my mother.

Growing up, people always asked which kid I was in the order. Before my little brother passed, I used to say I was the middle son. My sister is the oldest, but I was still the middle son. After Jimmy passed, just so I wouldn't have to explain his death, I told people that I was the youngest. Hurts every time I have said it. Today, I am the last son. The only son. The oldest and the youngest son. This too will hurt when people ask. Yes, I have a sister that I adore, but as far as Murphy men are concerned, I am the last of my parents’ sons.

What prompted me to start writing? No clue. I can't sit here and cry all night. My emotions haven't settled down enough for me to fall asleep. I am still shaking. I already told the first group of people that would care to know about his passing. Mostly family, my close friends and his old girlfriends. Condolences will roll in. People will try to relate, but they can't. You are trying to find common ground and saying the phrases you think you should say just come out. It's ok.

My brother Michael was a great writer. He really was. His brain was a beautiful thing. Only to be matched by his good looks and charm.

He marched to the beat of his own drum and seemed hell bent on never making things easy on him.

When we were kids, after he moved away to Chicago, he would critique my letters to him.

He started every letter by reminding me of all my punctuation and spelling mistakes.

He taught me a lot of bad things as a kid, so he had to balance them out with some good stuff I guess!

My brother was a grammar Nazi. My brother writes better than me.

Do I use the past tense yet? Fuck it.

I will try not to beat myself up about not picking up the phone every time he called. My brother lacked the ability to tell a story in less than 20 minutes and God forbid you interrupt him, because he was known to start again from the top. Where most stories didn't need every detail; my brother would tell you a story as if he had written a script and was reading you the lines as well as setting for every scene. Acting out the lines of each character and altering his voice just enough to where you could follow along. Most people needed a stage, a budget and camera crew to pull this off. Michael could do it all on the phone. He had a beautiful mind, but just lacked brevity. Because of this, he made it hard to answer the phone-knowing you only had 5 minutes to talk. Out of respect to his story telling abilities, sometimes it was better not to answer than to cut him off midway. He called at 7am on Sunday to wish me a Happy St. Patrick's day....I didn't answer. He left a message with his daughter. A message that I wish I hadn't deleted. I still have his text messages. They will have to do.

Michael Michael motorcycle. My last connection to brotherhood. Passed away too soon. I will think of you every day. I will see pictures, hear songs, remember a joke, etc. Now that you are gone, it seems like there is more of you around me than I ever knew.

You were flawed and troubled, yet beautiful both inside and out. Long winded and Irish in every God damn way. I will never love anyone like I did you or curse anyone like I did you. I would give anything to get hugged by you or punched by you just one last time.

I love you Michael.

You are at peace and that brings me great comfort. Hug Jimmy for me. I promise you, your daughter will never need for anything in this world.

Rest in peace. Till we meet again.

After going back and forth about it for a few days, I posted that on the Internet.

It obviously struck a chord with many, as the blog ended up going viral, garnering 1000s of reads from people who have never met Michael or any other member of our immediate family. In true Michael Murphy style, he left this world more famous than me, as that became the most read thing I have ever written. To honor my brother, I decided to publish this book.

This book is dedicated to the memory of my beautiful brother Michael James Murphy.

It's about pulling the trigger on life, career and not being a douche bag.

Thank you for reading it.

Pull the Trigger

I was having a somewhat serious phone conversation with a friend of mine the other morning. He is currently going through a career reinvention and asked me an interesting question. If you know me or have read any of my blogs, you can deduce that I am a pretty positive person. Regardless of my direction or path, the end result is always focused on getting positive results and learning something along the way. Sure, I might be sarcastic in my approach, but the overall tone is always positive.

His question? What was my defining moment?

Not a light topic or question. Not something that can be answered without a moment of thought and reflection. I paused for a few seconds and went into my response. I cannot remember what I said word for word, but I will paraphrase what I know to be true about my life.

I have never been the most talented, the smartest or the best. I have never considered myself to be better than anyone or above anything. No level of accomplishment in my life has ever earned