the LIST

Do I know you? One man's attempt at a lifelong head count. 

NOTE: If you think I might have a photo of you—most likely at least one great photo of you—don't be afraid to ask me to post it ( along with a brief entry about how I know you. And if I've met or known you but don't have any photo evidence, feel free to send along YOUR favorite photo of you. (I'm fascinated by what that slideshow might look like.)


68. chris cannon

Lower Eastside. New York, NY. Double-bagging it. November 2014

Lower Eastside. New York, NY. Double-bagging it. November 2014

"I need to find something that lights me up."

My friend Chris was talking about his next career move back in November. Like many people, Chris doesn't love his job. Many moons ago, not long after Chris arrived in L.A. after moving south from the Bay Area, I hooked him up with a couple friends who were starting a production vehicle company. Somehow that connection turned into a 17-year career as a driver, then transportation coordinator, for various productions (mostly commercials) in and around Southern California. Now Chris wants to do something more fulfilling. But what?

I met Chris in 1989 when I was dating his big sis Kim. Luckily for me, my friendship with Chris lasted longer than my relationship with Kim. (Who's also still a friend.) More than 25 years later, Chris came out to Austin for our wedding. A few weeks later he was back in Austin for the Fun Fun Fun music festival. That's when I planted the seed about the possibility of Chris maybe joining me on my big adventure to Brooklyn, not thinking he'd actually end up doing it.

But here's what a mensch this guy is: With zero pre-planning, he decides to extend this trip and re-routes his flight back home. Instead of flying out of Austin, he's now flying out of NYC. All to help me pack up our big ass house (5bd/3bth), load the moving truck and accompany me on the drive to New York City. Once we showed up in Brooklyn, Chris did even more heavy lifting, helping us move our 16-foot moving van's worth of "essentials" into our new 1-bedroom apartment.

How could we not love this guy?

So now we need to find Chris his perfect job. My suggestion? Tap into his love of craft beers and become the brew version of the wine world sommelier.

"Chris," I told him after we'd squeezed all of our things into our Cobble Hill digs, "you need to become a brewmmelier! Or in your case, a brommelier!" Somebody get this guy a reality show!

So raise your beer mugs and pint glasses to my friend Chris—future brommelier and a solid amigo to have on a long drive across the U.S. of A.

America, light this man up!