Author: Neil Pasricha

What’s your favorite local diner?

Mine has gotta be California Sandwiches, a tiny hole-in-the-wall wedged between rusting clapboard houses in the middle of downtown Toronto. Sure, the word “sandwiches” is spelled wrong on the sign, the floor is always greasy, and the bathrooms may or may not have hot water, soap, and paper towels, but the sandwiches are always delicious, let me tell you that.

Old ladies wearing frilly aprons and dark black glasses deep-fry pancake-sized breaded chicken breasts till they’re brown, crisping, and dripping with hot oil. Then they place them neatly on big doughy buns the size of cabbages, pour ladles of fresh steaming tomato sauce on top, toss some cheese and mushrooms on there, and wrap the sandwich in a mirrory foil before handing it to you with fifty thin paper napkins and a grunt.

Last time we ate there a droopy-eyed guy wearing a backwards cap slowly walked through the seating area dragging two black garbage bags. But Leslie and I barely noticed because we were chowing down like starved pigs over a fresh trough full of slop. Twenty minutes later, with our faces smeared in sauce, bellies bursting, and belts unbuckled, we left with tired eyes and satisfied smiles.

I love California Sandwiches but then again I love any restaurant with old ladies doing the cooking in the back. After all, old ladies have been here longer than anybody and chances are they’ve been cooking a lot longer too. Sure, I could probably order a pizza online faster, but I’m no match when it comes to caramelizing onions, frying fish, or building a sandwich with fresh bread, sliced cheese, and extra TLC.

So next time you bite into Granny’s date squares from the bakery, chomp meatballs from her pizza place, or slurp soup from her sandwich shop, just remember to say thanks for the homemade meal that taste’s like mom’s, thanks for the love, and thanks for the

AWESOME!

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The Meal Echo is any perfectly recreated plate of turkey, veggies, stuffing, and pie made from all the leftovers from yesterday’s pig-out. Microwaved brussels sprouts, steamed turkey chunks, and stirred up gravy all combine into a perfect follow-up to the feast.

AWESOME!

Let freedom ring from the felt-covered walls of cubicle farms. Let freedom ring from the dimly lit university dorms. Let freedom ring from cell phones at the back of the train. Let freedom ring from laptops at the back of the plane. But not only that — let freedom ring from daily coupon deals! Let freedom ring from weekly donation appeals! Let freedom ring from alumni sponsorship requests! And let freedom ring from random marketing contests!

And when this happens, when we let freedom ring, let’s all join hands and sing “Free at last! Free at last! Look at this empty inbox, we are free at last!”

AWESOME!

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It’s time to fill your plate with two kinds of pie, Grandma’s homemade squares, a few scattered pieces of fruit, and a big swirl of whipped cream over everything.

Nobody will judge you on Thanksgiving.

Just make sure you use the big plate.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

Standing is big.

After all, we’re the audience here — we came, we paid, we get to sit down. The deal is we put our feet up, spill popcorn everywhere, and whisper to our friends while you prance about trying to entertain us. Dance your little dance, speech your little speech, play your little play, because we came, we paid, and we get to have our way.

A deal’s a deal.

Oh sure, when everything’s over we’re going to stand up and walk out of here anyway, but our end of the bargain is so scrimpy that standing up thirty seconds earlier is a huge deal. It’s a special sign that this audiences cares, they really care, and it’s not something that happens every day.

Now that one guy who jumps out of their seat before everyone else to get the standing ovation going is pretty gutsy. Blocking views to become the focus point leaves them temporarily naked and alone. Yes, there’s a chance everybody else at the 3D cartoon, library reading, or local debate may just shove past them as they wipe hot tears off their bright red cheeks.

It’s a risky move.

But that’s what makes it so great when that guy gets the whole crowd roaring together. Girl in the hat starts clapping, guy in the jeans starts slapping, then you feel a little rustle as the row behind you stands up … and now it’s on. The theater is rumbling, the music is blaring, and everything’s crashing into

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

You’re like a cat.

Maybe it’s Sunday afternoon and you’re exhausted after a long week. Teething babies, bickering boyfriends, everything’s taken its toll. So when you spot that bright sunbeam shining through the window pane it’s time to collapse on the dusty carpet in the front room again.

Dirty dishes and doing laundry can wait.

Now it’s time to feel the warmth on your skin, see the red on your eyelids, and let your brain slip somewhere far, far away.

AWESOME!

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No cookie on the white stuff.

No white stuff on the cookie.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

Man, that’s one long celery stick.

I’m not sure if just one dip in our communal bowl of ranch dressing will be enough to coat that big green stick with enough sauce to get the job done. No, you better dip the second half in too, wet stringy bits and all, so you really get some creamy flavor on that bland crunchiness left in your hand.

Sure, maybe a couple spit molecules slip into the bowl for your best friend or little brother. But we say that’s a small price to pay for well-sauced veggies, salsa coated nacho shards, and dip-covered potato chips.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

Are you a fourth quarter fan?

Those are the folks who flip the game on with five minutes left to catch the big finish. When it’s a lopsided score they shut it off but when it’s all tied up they think “Good thing I didn’t waste two hours watching everything until now!”

When the score’s tied up near the end of the game it’s time to get ready for the edge-of-your-seat rush.

It all comes down to this.

AWESOME!

I am a terrible baseball player.

When I was in Little League we got to use aluminum bats but they were too heavy for my spaghetti-noodle arms to swing properly. Opponents caught on to my weakness pretty quick and I would stand there in my gray Velcro sneakers watching three straight fastballs fly through the strike zone before trudging back to the dugout like some sort of Guaranteed Strikeout Ghost.

And you know, I’m terrible at basketball, terrible at driving, and pretty terrible at cooking too.

But life ain’t about any of that because it’s just about doing your thing.

Yes, I say whatever your thing is… well that’s what you should do. Because whatever you’re pretty good at… that’s what makes you you.

Thank you so much for letting me do my thing by chatting about awesome things every day with you.

I’m so happy that The Book of (Holiday) Awesome is helping push the AWESOME movement forward in a knock-em-out streetfight against all the negativity, cynicism, and bad news out there.

I say today’s our day to do our thing and keep on moving.

Today’s our day to be

AWESOME!