We all know how terrible I am at publishing here on a consistent basis (I still have so much to write about from August) but this just needed to be posted.

Yesterday, Steve Jobs passed away. He was an amazing technologist, a visionary, an inspiration, and someone I am heartbroken I will never have the opportunity to have a conversation with. Steve’s life’s work, Apple Computers, have had more impact on our lives than I can even begin to describe.

My first reaction to this was pure sadness. But then, I saw something flit across my screen – a tweet, with a quote: “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” So today, I’m smiling. I’m remembering Steve’s passionate keynotes and speeches, I’m mindful of the everyday impact Apple technology has on my personal life and my business, and I am hoping that younger generations, ten or twenty years from now and beyond, never have to ask or wonder, “Who the heck was Steve Jobs?”

In his 2005 graduation commencement speech at Stanford University, Steve Jobs said, “Stay hungry, stay foolish.” I will, Steve, I will. Thank you for everything.

So here’s the thing. The past couple of months? Busy as hell. But there was simply SO MUCH AWESOME that I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to put words to paperscreen and share.

I’m sitting at South Station in Boston, waiting for the next train home to Providence. Yes, that’s right: home to Providence. On September 1, I left Boston and moved home to Rhode Island to save money and be close to my family in between my crazy travel adventures. So what have I been up to since the last time I actually took the time to write? Bullet points, here we come!

• First, there was Philadelphia, and oh, was it ever glorious! I got to spend some quality time with Tara and Madeline, who both rock my world oh so very hard. Much delicious food was consumed – from sandwiches at Paesano’s to beef jerky from the Amish at Reading Terminal Marketing to drinks at… hell, I can’t even remember. Tara and Madeline were amazing hostesses and I hope someday that I’ll get to return their hospitality should they ever visit New England.
• Then, there was Asheville. I joked with Cat (who, by the way, is all sorts of awesome) that if you drove 30 minutes in either direction, you’re smack dab in the middle of some Deliverance kind of shit, but the truth is this: Asheville, North Carolina is a gem of a town. I had, for the first time ever, Southern Comfort ice cream (with fresh bourbon-soaked peaches.) I had the best steak I’ve ever had at Bouchon. I got to experience real North Carolina barbeque, even if my drunk ass did try (and tweet) a single-bite-combination of bacon jalapeño barbeque sauce-soaked pulled pork, sweet potato fries and chocolate pudding. Sure, it looked disgusting, but it was nothing short of delicious. I was also introduced to the wonderful variety of local beers that are abundant in Asheville, got to meet awesomesauce locals like Wendy Lou and experienced the biggest music festival in the Southeast, Bele Chere, which is really too amazing for words.
• Upon returning home, I was SO excited to have two whole weeks to enjoy some time “at home,” and enjoy Boston. What ended up happening instead was a string of horrifying and surreal dates that, each on their own merits, would make Tucker Max blush. I’m not sure if I’ll ever share those particular stories beyond my closest friends, but if I do, you can be sure they’ll have entire chapters dedicated to them in that book. Yes, book.

Which brings us to the latter half of August, which saw me get sick, fly to Chicago and back for the 20-Something Bloggers Summit, spend a week post-conference half-deaf from the resulting ear infection, pack my entire life up into boxes and move back to Rhode Island. Those, however, are stories for another blog post, which will hopefully not take me another month to write.

Until then, friends, it’s been real.

I wanted to write this long, thoughtful post about all the little moments in our lives, these perfect little moments in our lives that make everything worth it but are often overlooked.

Instead, I’ll just let the picture speak for itself.

Photo credit: John Exley

Sitting at a bar in Union City, New Jersey, just a few blocks from the Hudson River, I find myself contemplating (and now writing) this blog, and realize it’s been more than a month since my last post.

Boy, what a month it’s been. What was supposed to be a one-week trip to New York turned into two weeks, followed by a week long visit home in Rhode Island, a four-hour stop home in Boston, and two more weeks in New York.

A lot has happened in these past five weeks. A lot of really wonderful, amazing things. Like sitting on a 23rd floor balcony contemplating life, the universe, and everything with some friends. Like celebrating my grandfather’s 97th birthday party with my family. Like a trip out to Long Island for a kick-ass poolside Fourth of July party at a friend’s house. Like launching a new product for a client that has turned out to be a resounding success.

During this time, I’ve slowly but surely come to two realizations. First, I love being on the road. Truly, nomadic living does me a world of good. I’m looking forward to doing a lot more of it, and thus, Big Decision Number One has been carved in stone: come September, I am officially leaving Boston to travel the United States, continuing to work remotely and visiting the wonderful friends I have all over the country.

Big Decision Number Two, while not quite carved in stone yet, is also relatively certain. Five weeks later, I AM completely sold on moving to New York City. At the end of my travels, when I’ve tired of wandering from place to place, Manhattan will be my new home.

In the meantime, I have three more epic trips planned before the end of the summer. In just a week and a half, I’ll be exploring Philadelphia with Tara and Madeline. Not too long after that will be another trip back to New York City, this time to truly relax and enjoy the city and my friends who live here, and a trip to Chicago in mid-to-late August to see my best friend and all of the wonderful folks I know who will be around for 20-Something Bloggers Summit.

Guess who has two thumbs and is too excited for words?

This guy.

In approximately 7 hours, I’m heading to New York City. Specifically, I’ll be spending the majority of the next week in Manhattan and just over the Hudson in New Jersey. This will be my second week-long trip to the heart of the Empire State in the past few months, and the tenth or twelfth in the past 18 months. Needless to say, for someone who lives in Boston, I spend a lot of time in New York.

I am fortunate to have some very close friends who live there, and I always joke with them that I don’t think I ever could. However, the more time I spend wandering the vast avenues of Midtown, getting lost in the Lower East Side, or pinching my nose walking down the smelliest damn sidewalks in Chinatown, the more I’m not sure this is true.

Despite my father’s affinity for the Yankees and the Giants, I grew up a Boston sports fan. I spent my childhood watching the Red Sox Triple-A team, the PawSox, at McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket, Rhode Island and making the “long” trek up with my best friend and our fathers to Fenway Park and Boston Garden (since replaced by TD Garden.) I loved visiting my brother in the North End when he was attending Suffolk Law, and I fell in love with Boston the second I moved here a couple of years ago. It feels like home, and there are days I can’t ever imagine leaving.

I can’t deny it, though. New York has this incredible, ridiculous pull on people. The city is awesome in the purest sense of the word; that is, it is literally an awe-inducing experience, and the feeling of it all is so vastly different from the small-town feeling I get at home in Boston. The lights, the energy, the breathtaking skyline the view from the top of the Empire State Building — hell, even the ridiculously aggressive drivers making their way through the grid-based road patterns of Midtown — they make me stop and try take it all in, all at once, despite the overwhelming nature of simply being present here. Then, when you drill down into the wonderful neighborhoods that make up this crazy island and its surrounding boroughs, you find the hidden gems – the small, friendly neighborhood bars, generations-old family restaurants, and gorgeous parks and scenery – that make the Big Apple seem just a little bit smaller and worth coming back to time and time again.

I’m still not completely sold on the idea of ever moving to New York City, but I always get excited about my visits because I know a few very specific things: I know that I will have great conversations catching up with my friends. I know I will discover at least one incredible thing about the city that I didn’t know about before; I know there is always the possibility of coming home with at least a good story or two; I know that even though I might get lost somewhere at 4am, I will always find some damn good food before I find my way back; and I know I will always leave wanting to come back for more.

So, New York City, I’ll see you in just a little bit. I’m looking forward to it, and I hope you are too.

I’ve had a couple of people ask me privately what the hell this “sneaky snake” business is all about. Last sunday, while sitting at In-n-Out Burger in Las Vegas with Mikael, Jenn, Maxie, and myself, Terra shared the story about how she heard this ridiculous damn song on the radio and it just wouldn’t make sense unless we listened to it.

So we did. Worlds collided, angels sang, all that bullshit. This song is hilarious, so here it is, for your listening pleasure… The Sneaky Snake!

Every sexually oriented euphemism that just popped into your head? Yeah, that was our afternoon at In-n-Out. Thanks for that, Terra!

[Note: The first incarnation of this post was originally published on June 26, 2008. I felt an updated version would serve as a great addition to the newly reborn robertcalise.com.]

Do you remember when you were a kid? If your parents told you to shut up, you’d probably talk more. If they told you to stay out of the neighbors’ yards, chances are that you’d throw your ball right across the property line and chase it. I have fond memories growing up of always being the kid who asked “too many questions” that go back as far back as the first grade. (Let’s not even talk about my messy desk, or how my teacher frequently dumped its contents onto my lap.) Apparently, I was supposed to learn about the world around me only by listening to what I was told, rather than following my own curious instincts.

At twenty-five, my attitude is pretty much the same as it was when I was six. People love to ask me why I do things so differently… even people who have known me for so long that they should obviously know better by now. At first, I didn’t really know what to say, but it really got me thinking: “Why do I do things the way I do?”

As someone who has always lived life “outside the box,” I find it increasingly difficult to imagine what life in there must feel like. For the millennial generation, this goes way beyond our work lives; it doesn’t matter whether you’ve got a “real job” like everyone else or not, and it manifests itself differently for each individual.

For someone looking to advance rapidly in their careers, it could just be working smarter and thinking more creatively than anyone else in the office. For an athlete who wants to be at the top of their game, it could mean practicing more often and harder than their teammates or opponents. For me, it means a relaxing walk around the Boston Common whenever I feel like it, spending time with family or friends on a random afternoon, or waking up 3,000 miles away just for the hell of it… without any real interruption to my daily schedule or productivity.

I’m proud of doing things differently. It means being more creative, working harder, and playing harder. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’ll ever apologize for it, and you shouldn’t either. Damn the box. Break free from mediocrity. Live your life on your own terms, and enjoy every second of it.

Well, when you’re hanging out with bloggers, what happens in Vegas is blogged about, filmed, and plastered all over the Internet! I can’t believe I forgot to include this in my last post. Big props to Almie for doing such a killer job putting it together.

Bloggers in Sin City from Almie Rose on Vimeo.

Settling into my seat on US Airways Flight something-or-other at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, I overhear the girl behind me say, “Four days in Vegas is just too much.” After the weekend I’d just spent at Bloggers in Sin City, I couldn’t help but turn around and respond, “Four day in Vegas is not nearly enough.”

It’s true, and if you don’t believe me, it’s because you weren’t there. As you may be able to tell, I’m brand-new to the blogging thing. So how the hell did I end up in Vegas with the most kick-ass group of bloggers on the planet? Jenn is how, and boy, do I owe her big time for telling me about the trip, and more “Thank You’s” than I know how to manage need to be sent off in Nicole’s general direction for the insane amount of work and flawless planning she did to bring everyone together.

My first instinct after hearing about this little adventure was this: “Going to Vegas where I’ll be one of six guys with a group of fifty women is the greatest idea of all time.” My next instinct didn’t hit until I was already at our opening mixer and my Twitter handle was being Sharpie-d on my arm: “Holy crap, I don’t know ANY of these people, and they ALL seem to know each other.” Then the bartender started pouring the tequila, Blogger Bingo started rolling (thanks, Molly!), and I realized for the first of many times this weekend that I couldn’t have been more right about something: showing up and hanging out with this group, who turned out to be incredibly inclusive, friendly, and downright amazing, WAS the greatest idea of all time.

The remainder of the weekend is somewhat of a whirlwind, and I hope I can do it justice. This is Vegas, after all. Sleep was simply not in the equation.

Not when you’ve got delicious dinner at Mon Ami Gabi, a chocolate orgasm on the tongue at Sugar Factory Chocolate Lounge, the awe-inducing acrobatics and side-splitting hysterics of Absinthe, and Nico’s trademark Misleading Robot dance moves while enjoying VIP bottle service on a gorgeous nightclub roofdeck with the hottest blogger girls in Vegas.

Not when you’ve got early-morning business breakfast conversation with the brilliant Jenny and Molly, happy hour photo-shoot and my first ever experience as PART of a bachelorette party, which Nicole put together for Kaci, and skipping the line to the hottest situation in Vegas with 50 of your closest brand-new best friends.

Not when you’ve got shenanigans like the Sneaky Snake at In-n-Out burger, so-gigantic-they-should-be-illegal margaritas and a booty-shaking contest poolside, inappropriate storytime in the hotel lobby, and getting photobombed with a book about fellatio at Sunday morning brunch.

Not when you’re fortunate enough to be hanging out, learning about, and falling in love with the single biggest group of the most amazing people in the entire world.

Photo Credit: Rebecca Freeman

The only regret I have about this weekend is that there was SO MUCH to do and so many of us that there was simply no way to spend the kind of time I would have liked with everyone. But, hey! This is the Internet, and we have such wonderful technology to keep in touch, plot travels and meetups all over the place because we’re going through such ridiculous #BiSC-uit withdrawals, and get to know each other better, because it will not be long until we’re all back in Vegas and having the best time of our lives at #BiSC 2012!