I was in a coffee shop a while back & there was a group of 5 or 6 girls talking. I couldn’t help but overhear about how this one girl’s family lived in England for a few years as she was growing up.

At that moment, at that table, at that coffee shop, this girl was a rockstar.

She had a story to tell. Her life was interesting. Other people thought it was cool. She exuded confidence and the pride in knowing who she is and why she’s that way and even though as a kid she didn’t want to live in England in the first place, now she wouldn’t trade that experience for the world.

I was surprisingly saddened by the whole ordeal. Only because none of the other girls at the table had a similar story — sure, they’d probably all lived great lives — but none had a great story to tell.

In our cultural quest for perfection, I think we risk missing out on some of the greatest lessons and experiences that life has to offer. We’re afraid of the unknown. Afraid of the possibility of failure.

My friend offered to cook dinner for a girl one time in hopes of impressing her enough for a second date. He burned the food so bad, they ended up ordering pizza. But the vulnerability he showed and the way he handled it impressed the girl more than a perfectly cooked steak ever could have.

Now that I’m living on a boat at a marina, you might imagine that I come across some interesting people. I’m surrounded by people who, at one point or another in their life, purposely chose to live an unusual story.

I’m looking right now at a boat that’s home to a couple and their 16 year old daughter. They sold their house a few years ago and just wanted to try something different.

Several weeks ago I met a couple who got married young, bought a boat instead of a house and started hopping from place to place picking up odd jobs. After a few years, they read a book and decided they wanted to try their hand at boat building. Today, the most beautiful schooner sits in the water (photo above). Every line, plank and fastener has a story behind it.

They may not have much in the way of 401k & stock options, but spend any amount of time with them and you’ll hear countless stories rich with adventure, terror and joy.

But these things don’t happen on accident. You don’t just wake up one day in your queen sized bed in suburban America with a life full of interesting stories. It’s a daily thing that you work towards and you recognize and take opportunities as they arrive.

And, thankfully, everybody has a different image in their head for what a successful, story-rich life looks like.

One friend of mine wants nothing more in this world than to birth a child and raise him to be a real, live, functioning person.

Another wants to be a teacher and shape young minds.

Another girl who promised me she wasn’t even in the running for Miss America or anything said if she could do anything in the world, she’d spend all her time feeding hungry inner-city children.

And there’s no doubt that these are all much more worthy causes and ambitions than many of my own.

But I think the key to the whole thing is that they know what they want, and they work towards it every day.

What are you working towards?

Bo is currently living in Orange Beach, Alabama trying to come up with ways to fund a sailing trip around the world. If you’d like to be a part of the adventure, consider sponsoring a mile.

There’s this song by Train called “Marry Me” that’s been playing a lot on the radio lately. The first few times I heard it, I thought it was just your typical mushy love song, so I’d change the station before listening to the whole thing. But one time I was in a particularly sappy mood and listened to it all the way through.

If you listen, you’ll catch the line “Marry me, if I ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe.”

Dude wrote a whole song about this girl, and he hasn’t even gotten up the courage to say the first word to her. I thought that was pretty pathetic. And then I remembered about this time I did something eerily similar.

Two years ago, I was sitting in this very Starbucks staring at a blank piece of paper. I couldn’t help but notice this one girl, and before I knew it, I’d written her a letter.

I wouldn’t say it was a love letter really, but a letter nonetheless. I wrote all about how I wished I could come up with an excuse to talk to her, but how she’d probably just think I was creepy & wish I’d disappear. And normally, I’d file that piece of paper away in my bag so I could throw it away without anyone ever seeing it and that would be the end of the story.

But it wasn’t.

Several months later, on a road-trip to Nashville with a few new friends, it hit me that I was sitting beside that very girl from the Starbucks. We’d been hanging out for a few weeks and I didn’t even know it was her.

As it turns out, the idea of her was much more exciting than the actual her, and things didn’t work out between the two of us. But it was like God was showing me that things don’t always end up exactly how we dream they should. And that’s ok.

Seven years ago, I promised myself that by the time I turned 28, I would either have a family or I’d try to sail around the world. Seven years ago, I would have put most of my money on the having a family part.

But as the years have gone by, I’ve begun to realize how undateable I became after my first sailing trip. For a while, I’d tell girls I’d just met about how there were whole families with kids who lived on sailboats instead of in houses with yards and fences and stuff. How they spent all their time together sailing around visiting foreign countries, learning about other cultures, meeting other vagabonds.

Then I realized that all the girls heard was about how these crazy nomad people live in boats smaller than their kitchen back home in places that don’t speak English & how I thought all of this was exciting and charming but they thought it was the stupidest thing anyone could ever do ever.

So I stopped talking to girls about that stuff and I had a few chances at long term relationships. I was even headed towards engagement and marriage and forever with a girl, but in the end, I just felt like I was pushing her farther from her goals and dreams and she was pulling me away from mine. I understand the whole compromise thing, but I don’t necessarily think that both of you giving up all your hopes and dreams is how love is supposed to work.

I highly envy many of the relationships and marriages around me (my parents’ most of all), and certainly hope to someday experience that. However, I don’t plan on sitting around forever waiting for someone with similar dreams to show up so I can begin enjoying mine.

So tonight I’ll spend another February 14th here at Starbucks, working on ways to earn enough money to sail around the world.

And I’m perfectly fine with that.

Bo is currently living in Orange Beach, Alabama trying to come up with ways to fund a sailing trip around the world. If you’d like to be a part of the adventure, consider sponsoring a mile.

A week ago I left the place I’d called home for nearly 4 years. The dreary fog masked all but enough road to barely keep moving.

The scene was eerily familiar, but it took a few hundred miles to fully sink in.

February, 2004

We were about an hour South of Montgomery when I woke up from my nap. I’d hardly been able to sleep a wink for the last few weeks and now it was all I could do. Dad was driving the truck with the focus of my life in tow.

With his help, I purchased the 24 year old sailboat 5 months earlier. It immediately became my refuge from homework and I made the 70 mile drive from Athens to Lake Lanier more times than I could count. It wasn’t that I disliked college, it was just that I liked the water more. I had plans for the boat and it had plans for me.

The boat had become my identity, and there was a purpose surrounding it. The plan was to spend a few months in Orange Beach, Alabama before sailing around Florida in time to resume college that Fall.

As we stopped on I-65 for gas, I walked around the trailer carrying my 25′ 4500lb home for the next 8 months.

The day was finally here.

I’d been talking about it for so long it had yet to sink in that it was actually happening.

Then the butterflies appeared.

I don’t know a soul in Orange Beach.

I’ve never sailed in the ocean before.

What do I do if I get caught in a storm?

What if my boat can’t handle it?

What if I fail?

The drive to Orange Beach last week was very much the same, yet so incredibly different.

Looking back, although the scope of the trip changed, I know my journey seven years ago was a success and has forever defined who I am in countless ways.

But that trip had a definite beginning and ending.

This one is different.

In 2004, sitting in a classroom in Athens, Georgia, less than a month after stepping foot back on shore, I made myself a promise. I decided that if I didn’t have a house or a wife or kids when I turned 28, I would try to sail around the world.

Last year, before my 27th birthday, I knew it was time to either put the dream to rest or take steps towards making it happen.

So today, as I sit in a tiny office in Orange Beach, Alabama, I’m proud to know that I’ve taken the first few steps. The only thing between me and a trip around the world are a few family meetings and a whole lot of money.

As I’ve said before, I don’t know what the next 2 or 4 or 6 months have in store. I’m not sure where I’ll be in 1 or 2 or 5 years. But I know that my main goal right now is to figure out how to make this dream a reality.

In 2004 I realized that with enough work and willpower (plus a healthy dose of naivety) I could do anything.

So if a broke fat guy like me can figure out how to sail around the world, I think that’ll prove just about anything is possible.

Bo is currently living in Orange Beach, Alabama trying to come up with ways to fund a sailing trip around the world. If you’d like to be a part of the adventure, consider sponsoring a mile.

Video: Time lapse video of the boat Bo will be living on in Orange Beach being taken from shipyard to slip. Video Here.

Last night I had the privilege of going to a minor league hockey game. Some friends hooked us up with awesome tickets, complete with pre-game tour of the locker room & players bench.

During the tour, we learned that a few games ago, one of the visiting players had taken a cheap shot at one of our players, inflicting enough damage for a concussion and 18 stitches. That player, #27, served a one-game suspension, but had yet to face the worst punishment. Retribution.

I don’t know a lot about the nuances of hockey, but even I knew that payback was eminent. It was widely expected that #27 for the visiting team would get his clock cleaned in the final moments of the game.

With 3 minutes left, #27 sat on the bench. We all joked about how he wouldn’t dare come back in for fear of getting what he deserved. The winner was all but decided & the other players had shown no lack of a willingness to fight.

And then, with a minute & a half left in the game, #27 reappeared in the rink during a face-off. I imagined that he was going to do what I would have done in his situation. Run. Or in this case, skate, as far away from any and all white jerseys who would surely be gunning for him.

I was wrong.

Before the puck even hit the ice he had his gloves off, wailing on an unsuspecting opponent. He didn’t wait to take what was coming to him. He didn’t try to apologize or argue. He knew a fight was inevitable, so he went out & started it.

As the refs escorted him off the rink, he was grinning, knowing that by throwing the first punch, he avoided a potentially much worse fate.

I opened up my bucket list today and began thinking about what 2011 might bring.

A whole new year.

365 days of possibilities.

2011 may be the year I become a successful entrepreneur. Or World traveler. Or ocean-going sailor. Or maybe just a complete failure.

I’m fairly certain that 2011 will bring a whole new slew of challenges I’ve yet to even consider and probably even a few punches in the face.

But I’m going to take a lesson from #27 and throw the first blow. In a much more literal sense, anyway.

Today I’m going to add 18 new items to my bucket list, expanding upon the dreams, goals & expectations I have for my future.

Yes, I know I only checked 3 things off my list last year. Yes, I know a few of them seem completely crazy (#63: Own less than 100 things) or out of character for me (#55: Watch the sunrise every day for a week). And yes, I know that my list no longer contains an even list of 50 items.

But as my mom & sisters demonstrated to me this week, sometimes you have to jump out of your box with reckless abandon & do something a little crazy.

So, here’s to 2011; a new year with limitless possibilities.

And also to throwing the first punch.

You may view my bucket list here.

While I normally reserve this blog for more personal entries, I hope you’ll indulge me as I bid farewell to my role as videoboard producer at Auburn University.

In 2007, as a 23 year old UGA grad, I was given the chance to help design, install & then produce the SEC’s first high definition video production.

As soon as I arrived in Auburn, I knew it was a special opportunity. The pressure started building early, as students I talked to could recount shot-for-shot and song-for-song the intro videos that had previously played in Jordan-Hare Stadium.

Auburn has long been known for its killer pregame, eagle flight & all, but no matter who I talked to, I always got the same feeling. I’ve seen a lot of stadium pregames & productions, but Auburn was different. These people actually cared. A lot.

Early in the days of AUHD, I held a preseason meeting with our crew to develop a mission statement. As an ice breaker, everyone was given a penny. We went around the room and told a story about something that happened in our lives the same year that our penny was made.

Some memories were good, some were bad, but they were all memorable moments in the crew’s lives. We went on to decide the following…

“It is the mission of the AUHD Crew to provide memorable moments (“pennies”) to Auburn fans through a clean, professional & ever-improving gameday production.”

Last weekend, 4 years later, against my alma mater, I was set to produce my last Auburn football game. I’m sure you’ll agree that we’ve come a long way as a crew & a production, but I don’t really know where to begin.

My first game in ’07 had to be the worst…our installation crew was working on 2 hours of sleep per night the week leading up to that game. We somehow made it through the game, but nobody told me the Auburn orange looked Georgia red on the videoboard until I finally woke up the following Tuesday. At least the video got good reviews.

The ’08 LSU game stands out because of the intro video “rewind” we did to bring back “Ladies and Gentlemen” as the intro song. This was also the season we realized that we could make a few tweaks to our wireless camera & show Tiger Walk LIVE to the folks already in the stadium.

Another penny goes to Game 1 in ’09 when our video server crashed 30 seconds into the tunnel video. We were able to switch to the backup server in about a second, only because we’d practiced that exact scenario a hundred times a few days earlier. My sister, sitting in the student section, teared up when she saw the video freeze because she knew how important the intros are to us.

And who can forget the rain game vs. West Virginia. The student section didn’t flinch & Coach Chizik’s post-game quote is a major part of this year’s tunnel video. My high-endzone camera guy’s shoes still aren’t dry.

But this year has been more special than any of them. And it all built up into an epic final home game.

The turnout at Tiger Walk was crazy & when Cam Newton entered the stadium the students went nuts. The roar of the crowd when Cam’s headshot appeared as the last player introduced during starting lineups was awesome.

The video the Auburn Network guys put together for Bo Jackson’s 25th Anniversary of the Heisman, then the eagle flight. The band entrance & the chill-inducing flyover. The tunnel video, followed by the team runout. The inspiration video led by a Pat Dye quote from ’89. And of course, the game.

Some of my favorite moments included the replay of Cam knocking Trooper off the sideline with his post-touchdown chest bump and the “Get it Tubas” sign shown during the band’s rendition of “Word Up.”

But one of the most special moments I can recall in AUHD history happened during the 3rd quarter. Shortly after Michael Dyer broke Bo’s freshman rushing record, we showed a graphic to that effect, with a closeup of Dyer. Dyer saw himself on the board, read the graphic & started to get excited. Then we found Bo. He had just read the graphic and was looking for Dyer.

As our camera saw them embrace on the sideline, the texts and tweets started coming in. I knew that we were a part of something special. AUHD isn’t just a bunch of tiny pixels making up a giant video screen. It’s not our fancy cameras, or our mostly student crew. It’s not my production, or my crew’s production, or an Auburn Athletics production. It’s so much larger than the sum of its parts.

AUHD is the players, the students, the alumni, the fans–the Auburn Family.

Once the final whistle blew and we hit play on our post-game season highlight video, the celebration continued. I even broke my headset, I was so caught up in the excitement.

As the night drew to a close, the crew took over my normal post-game meeting to give me my first “game tape” (an AUHD Crew tradition). I couldn’t help but tear up as they handed me a jar of pennies and went around the room recounting stories from our last 4 years together, each person adding another penny to the jar as they went.

As I hang up my (now broken) headset and move on to the next chapter of my life, I want to thank you, Auburn, for letting me be a small part of such an amazing family. As much as it pains the UGA grad inside me to say it,

I believe in Auburn and love it. War Damn Eagle.

After 4 years as AUHD Producer, I have decided to take some time to pursue other opportunities and work on checking items off my Bucket List. Feel free to follow along by subscribing to email updates here.

Ok, so this thing is starting to become real.

Apparently a few months ago I told my boss that I wanted to quit my stable, well-paying dream job to do, well, I’m not really sure what.  And as it turns out, he didn’t forget.  In fact, my replacement started full-time last week, and come January it’s his show.

See, when I turned in my 6-month notice, January was this blurry notion of a time in the far off future.  Unlike some married-with-offspring friends of mine, my calendar doesn’t really extend much past next Tuesday.

(Aside: My friend Katy asked me the other day if I was free for dinner on February 11th.  Like, a million days from now. I started to tell her I had already booked a date with Judy Jetson, but instead responded “Yes. As long as you ask me again on February 5th.”)

Until this week, it was easy to ignore the upcoming expiration of my employment.  Things were really busy at work & I truly had no clue what January was going to look like.  It was still this vague idea of freedom.  Or homelessness.  I wasn’t sure where I would be or what I would be doing, so it was easy to gloss over the details and just tell myself that I’ll figure it out later.

But in the past several days, things have come a little more into focus.  I think I have a much better idea of where I’ll be living & how I’ll be spending the majority of my time.  I’ve lived there before.  I know what it’s like to wake up there.  I know how the coffee tastes.

I’ll give more details later, but for now, I’ll just say this…sometimes life has an awesome way of providing you the opportunities & people you need, exactly when you need them.  I’m very blessed to have generous friends & a supportive family…much more so than I deserve.

Yet, now that another small slice of my future has become more clear, it seems to have revealed a hundred other questions, concerns and fears.

I think somebody (Spiderman, maybe?) said “With great privilege comes great responsibility” or something like that.  More than once last week I woke up in the middle of the night freaked out about the next several months.  I think my biggest fear is that a few years from now, I’ll have wasted a huge opportunity & just be some 30-something guy with a busted dream.

Please don’t let me do that, ok?

Bo Cordle has been the Producer of Videoboard Operations at Auburn University since 2007. He will be leaving Auburn in Janurary to embark on a new adventure.

Feel free to follow along at http://twitter.com/sailingbo or get email updates here.