Bigger Than Myself.

     So, this is completely random, but more important than myself and any silly little story that I can share in a blog. My senior year of highschool, a good friend of mine passed away and his brother has recently started a foundation in his name. I was nuts about the kid, he's the reason for my tattoo, but also a strong reason that my drive and pursuit of success in journalism is what it is. Anyone that knew us in highschool, and certainly anyone who had class with us, knew of our antics and journalistic competition. We had humanities, journalism, and creative writing together. And I was better than him in all of them..at everything :) lol I'm completely kidding.
     In journalism, either sophomore or junior year, (lol for the record, I'm sitting at the computer laughing just thinking about what stories I want to tell) we would play pranks on each other. And, it must've been junior year when I was a co-editor-in-chief, and thus one of the last people to see the paper, and on one of his by-lines that said "by: Ben Farber," I changed it to include his full name, "Benjamin James Gawrys Farber," lol and he was so pissed when it was printed and he saw it. And senior year, I was the lone editor-in-chief, and in each edition I had a column where I just wrote about whatever I wanted essentially. And one time in creative writing he told me that he was planning to write a letter to the editor (me) about why I shouldn't be editor of the paper, and why I wasn't qualified for the position lol.
     Senior year we went to a conference-wide creative writing fair where various pieces had been entered, and it was my pride and joy that the one category we were both entered into, my piece beat his. And it was a big deal because writing was his thing. He was amazing at it. There was something about him and his abilities to put words on paper that was far beyond his years. That morning though, we'd planned for me to pick him up and drive to the hs together, and he must've set his alarm an hour early or something because I was supposed to pick him up at like 6:30, but at 5:30 he calls me all chipper and excited like, "Hey Nans, ya up?!" (I was Nanners, he was Benners)and I was like just like dude, are you kidding me? But later, when I did pick him up, I remember driving into the DHS parking lot, both of us singing along to Big Pun's "Don't Wanna be a Playa." Lol and if you've heard the song, you know the beginning when the guy sings, "don't wannnnna beeeeeeee a playaaaa," and he was like hitting all the notes. Uh, funny stuff.
    Telling these stories don't give them justice at all. Like i'm sitting here trying to contain my laughter, but it's difficult to convey through text. Either way, Ben was a riot. Having him around, especially in those classes, was a driving force for me because I had to try to be better than him. And I remember later, in his absence, talking to a mutual friend of ours also into writing, about what journalism would be like without him. Point of all this is, Ben's brother set up a foundation in his name, and I told his mom I'd help spread the word! Go to the website, check it out, and donate. Trust, I know what it's like to be a broke college student, but it'd mean the world to me! The money raised goes to the Ben Farber Journalism Scholarship to benefit a student at the University of Illinois' Journalism Department. So go, donate/register, and then tell a friend!

http://www.thebenfarberfoundation.com/