Knot Belt Co. / StatusBro – Summer Lovin’ GIveaway

StatusBro and Knot Belt Co. have teamed up this Summer for a brotastic giveaway. Up for grabs is a ribbon belt and t-shirt from Knot and a t-shirt and prize pack from Status. Embrace you inner-bro. We all have one. Even you ladies have one. And, hey, you’re eligible for this prize as well.

How to enter: Comment with your finest Summer Vacation story / Best way to “Bro-out” in the Summertime / Where you’d wear the Knot Belt and StatusBro Gear.

This contest will run through Labor Day 2010.

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8 responses to “Knot Belt Co. / StatusBro – Summer Lovin’ GIveaway

  1. Just had the best trip to the midwest for my first ever family reunion. It rained and killed some humidity. This was a big deal as the oldest on the side is my Grandma (who is a spitfire), but whose immediate family has passed. It was amazing to see over 40 people show up. All with food in hand and memories to share. One of my cousins even spent the last months working on our family history and letting us know where we really came from. Hearing my uncle tease us in his southern accent that we are decendents of Dracula had me rolling. The best memory is the waterballon fight. IN avoiding a water bucket at full speed I dodged right into a support post of a pavillion we we using, and so hard that it stopped everything but me. I tunred around to looks of horror that I was hurt or the pavillion was going to fall because it was so loud. the bruise three days later let me know that a pole is no tackling dummy, and alas the pavillion is still standing. This is the best summer trip this year for me.

  2. Before I tell this story (for the 1,218,829 time), I must say that I deserve some sort of royalties from all of the TV shows/movies/books that draw inspiration from the happenings of the Summer of ’94 – I’ll try to make it short & sweet. I was 7 years old and with my grandparents vacationing in Asheville, NC. We stopped at this place called sliding rock – a tourist destination that basically describes itself. After having a blast, we decided to head back to our cabin in Johnson City, TN – except the we was only my grandparents. Somehow, while in the bathroom, I got left. Yeah…..left. To this day I don’t know what was going through my grandparents head when they got in the car and I wasn’t there but they didn’t realize I wasn’t in the car until they got an hour and a half away so my grandpa could buy smokes and I wasn’t in the backseat. Apparently they even thought that I had gotten out of the car at the gas station to use the restroom and was looking for me there! Meanwhile I was back at the ranger station explaining my situation. After 30 minutes they called the local police and told them to be on the lookout for the car with my grandparents license plate. Luckily they were able to call (having to find a pay-phone in ’94) sliding rock to verify that I was indeed left behind – watching Salute Your Shorts. Needless to say when they returned they were quite embarrassed – although they had the nerve to scorn me after driving off. Someone must have called the local news because we passed them on the way out of the park……damn, almost made a TV appearance.

  3. The Summer Trip with an EPIC souvenir…

    Last year, my wife and I (having been recently-but-not-too-recently married and seriously planning an addition to our family) decided to take a road trip around a speaking engagement that His Holiness the Dalai Lama had at the Long Beach Arena. The loop took us from Colorado out through Vegas to Los Angeles where we stayed with a friend for a couple days. We had a great time catching up, hanging out with their infant daughter and seeing the area.

    The Dalai Lama’s talks were great, and we were particularly fortunate that he held initiations. I won’t go into details, but it’s Really Significant Buddhist stuff that my wife, even having seen him speak several times before, had not been fortunate enough to participate in.

    We shot a ton of pictures, picked up a couple souvenirs, and headed down to San Diego for some beach camping. And a couple pitchers of beer at a local pub. The trip was full of laughter. The beach camping was terrific. We know how to make some seriously excellent road food, too, which is a tremendous bonus.

    After camping on the gorgeous beach, we took a southerly route back, through AZ and NM. In Sedona, we camped in some gorgeous woods north of town, had tea in an amazing Korean restaurant, and visited the Stupa. It was an auspicious stop. On our way to NM, we played at Slide Rock Canyon Park, which is a ridiculously fun natural phenomenon.

    Albuquerque was a trip. Without any great camping in easy sight, we settled for a hostel. They put us in an Air Stream trailer (kitchy!) which had apparently been rodent-infested at one point. We did not sleep there. The main dorm required us to spend a night apart in our gender-specific dorms, but VERY early the next morning, we took an amazing photowalk through the attached junk yard and workshop (?!?). It was an altogether odd experience that could have been miserable, but we made the very best of it.

    Back in Colorado at the end of the trip, we soon discovered that our plans for parenthood had come to fruition on the trip… the day before we participated in the Buddhist initiations with HHDL himself.

    While I’m sure it’s purely a fortunate coincidence, our son is surprisingly calm and responds very well to the singing bowl we picked up about 9 months prior in Long Beach.

    We partied, acted like kids, acted like adults, acted like teenagers, drove a couple thousand miles, met some terrific people, spread love, laughed our faces sore, and just had a blast.

    The longer I live it, the better life gets.

  4. Many years ago (1983) two h.s. friends and I flew across the country from CA to PA to visit another friend of ours that lived there then.

    While we were there his family was having a reunion and so they invited us as well. Of course this was out in the country at some tiny town’s park with a picnic shelter.

    (Un)fortunately we the visitors from CA left our mark on their family reunion in a couple ways. After we filled our plates from the buffet line and as we made our way back to the tables I tripped and spilled my plate on a man’s back. I had included a nice amount of still hot baked beans – OUCH. Last but not least, before departure from the picnic, they held a drawing for door prizes and yes one of my co-travelers won the grand prize.

    Needless to say we were never invited back in subsequent years.

  5. I hope to not get myself in trouble with this story…

    The summer after I graduated High School was a revelatory time. I began drinking, aided by a befriended college co-ed who was the sister of a teammate of mine. I was beginning to know all too well the feeling of losing your inhibitions and hiding a hangover. Needless to say, I was thoroughly enjoying my time before college.

    About a month prior to moving away to school, my parents took my sister and I on a week-long stay in Cancun. This was my first foray outside of the country (not counting Canada) and I was ecstatic. As soon as we got there, the young women milling about the lobby were the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. My 17-year old self was decidedly giddy with excitement.

    My first day on the beach was filled with almost-caught-starings and jaw-dropping topless women (had to be European). My currently sheltered, suburban eyes were being opened to the joys of European voyeurism and who-gives-a-shit-it’s-just-the-human-body actions. I began making quick use of my fluency in Spanish, befriending all the hotel workers. I hooked up with a group of ever-changing and growing American kids. Never before had I felt so free! My parents were finally letting me roam around on my own (in Mexico of all places).

    We would sneak into the beach bars and grab bottles of wine or liquor. We’d walk out to the beach and trade stories of where we all grew up, only once getting caught by the phantom Mexican police. One the kids found out if you turned your bracelet inside out, most bartenders wouldn’t care. I found out if I yelled to them in Spanish, I could get whatever I wanted. I put it to good use.

    There was one kid who resembled me enough to pass for my brother. We created a story about how our parents split and our mom brought us here to bring us (the brothers) back together. We were so happy to see each other. Him and I were barely seen apart after the evening we deployed our story. For a kid who never lied and was effectively a goody-two-shoes, I felt so alive and rebellious (it didn’t take much).

    Well, needless to say we unleashed our wonderfully uplifting, yet “awww” story on the prettiest girl we could find at the resort; This lovely blonde from Minnesota. She was the most sought after and we got her to fall right into our hands. We hung out one evening with a contraband bottle of red wine, laying out on the beach.

    Slowly, but surely hands started going where they shouldn’t. Things started getting hot and heavy, clothes started to come off. Suddenly, my “brother” pulled me away. Asking the question that I’m too embarrassed to write but I’m sure you can guess. I was a nervous wreck, but I agreed to go on. I hadn’t ever done the deed and this was going to be my first experience? In Mexico!? I played along, using the liquid courage the red wine had so recently supplied me with.

    Then there was a flash of light. I ignored it, as it seemed no one else noticed. There it was again. Suddenly, shouts of “Que hacen!” (what are you doing?) filled the air. The three of us froze, half-naked covered in sand. There came a shout again and we could see a dot of light getting bigger and coming toward us. The three of us looked at each other and bolted, splitting up.

    The girl left that morning. When I went to grab breakfast, I saw my faux sibling from across the room. We exchanged knowing glances. I smiled to myself and met up with my family.

    They would never know (well they may now), but that night I became a man. Even if, you know, “nothing really happened.”

  6. The last summer of my youth was 1997. I say that with the utmost conviction because the summer of 1998 would prove it to be true even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

    Graduation for myself and my two best friends, Rik and Ken, occurred sometime in June of that year and we decided to celebrate by taking a road trip around Southern California with our first stop being Lollapalooza in August. Lollapalooza was my first concert and it wasn’t even a typical concert but more a festival. I didn’t care what it was and still don’t because it was greater than anything I could have imagined.

    I had never been a part of anything like it in my life. Thousands of people milling about enjoying the different musical acts, the side shows, random acts of debauchery in the crowd, the strong smell of pot that permeated the air the entire time, and always having a beer in my hand even though I was only 18. The focus of this stop was the music, and it was the music that would leave its indelible mark on myself.

    The memorable bands didn’t hit the stage till at least dusk, with the lone exception being Snoop Dogg that performed Fuck the Police while being surrounded by the Los Angeles County Sheriffs Department that were providing security. Very few lucent memories remain after that except for Tool and the moshpit that accompanied them. Whether or not you may be a fan of Tool there isn’t much to say about their shows unless you have been to one. I could attempt to explain it, but the emotions, visuals, and viscera would never be able to come through via any words.

    The next day we continued our trip up the coast of California to Santa Barbara and to crash on the floor of our friend Robbie. Robbie had struck out on his own, not attached to family, a job, or college and we wished we could do the same without repercussion. All three of us admired him and reveled in the fact that we were now going to be four even for a short time and we were going to do what we pleased.

    We started by hooking up with a group of girls that we went to high school with that were in Santa Barbara to begin their freshman year of college. The first night there was straight out of a movie as we crashed a frat party that could have been a movie. Kegs, girls, jocks, girls and more girls were present, but the thing that stuck us the most was the fact that everyone was cool. Nobody cared that one of us was Mexican, black, blonde with long hair, or chubby. This wasn’t high school were it was normal to be filled with automatic hate for someone for no apparent reason. This was our first foray into the adult world and it was the awesome because we were accepted with open arms.

    The next night things went downhill a bit from there as we found it not as easy to procure alcohol in an unfamiliar town, but with a little bribery of a kind stranger we were able to get the libations we desired. We trekked behind the house that belonged to the girls along some unmarked trail towards the Pacific Ocean not knowing our exact stopping point. After 30 minutes of walking we stopped on the edge of a precipice overlooking the Pacific with the waves crashing on the rocky beaches and sides of the cliff below. We lit an impromptu fire in a hastily built ring of rocks, sung random Weezer songs, and talked the night away mostly reminiscing about the previous four years and our plans for the future.

    The morning came and the three of us had to face the truth of being adults as we had to head back to reality. We drove the two hours towards our desert listening to The Pharcyde at the highest volume my car would do short of blowing our eardrums and reminiscing about the previous three days. It would be the last time the three of us would be together.

    Next summer I would be in the military, living in Mississippi, married and with my first child on the way. No matter how many successes I have had since, the summer of 1997 will live on in my own personal infamy as the best.

  7. My family likes to take a big family vacation every year. This includes aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. One particular family vacation we flew down to enjoy the crystal clear water of the Dominican Republic.

    My cousin was getting married while we were down there so we had to stick around the resort and not get lost until after her wedding. Me and two of my cousins, one of which was her brother and the best man, decide to take some kayaks out. We had a few hours to kill and it was the perfect day to be on the water.

    The wind and water were calm and the sun was giving off the perfect amount of heat. We took the kayaks out to the reef, maybe 200 years from shore. While out there my cousins knocked the plug out of their kayak and it started sinking on the reef.

    The three of us were now stuck on the reef trying to hold up this fully submerged kayak and left with a single person kayak still floating. I give my cousin Derek, who’s supposed to be the best man my kayak so he can send a boat for us and start getting ready.

    He ended up coming back with the boat to pick us up and we had to hurry back to shore. Needles to say, the trip took longer than we thought and by the time we got back our cousins wedding was supposed to start in 15 min. We had just enough time to run to our room, through on clothes, and show up to her wedding still soaking wet.

  8. Pingback: Company Spotlight: Nick and Knot Belt Co. | the momentum of failure

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