Tyler Mayforth

Official Website of Tyler Mayforth | Delaware Born | NOLA Living

Category: Life Happenings

Seeing U2 In Concert In New Orleans

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On September 15, 2017

In Life Happenings, New Orleans

Emotional.

Surreal.

I can only use those two words to describe what it was like to see U2 in concert at the Mercedes-Benz Superdome last night in New Orleans.

I bought my ticket on a whim earlier in the day after I saw how cheap they were on StubHub ($21 plus fees). I also didn’t know just how much of their set I would be able to watch since I had another obligation earlier in the night (kickball).

We had the kickball playoffs and if you read my last post, you would have seen we were kickball champions, so we had a reputation to uphold. Our season didn’t go as well as we hoped, which left us as the No. 9 seed. That meant we would have to play four games in two weeks to win the championship once again.

That didn’t happen. We got knocked out in the play-in round.

As much as it pained me to lose (I am way too competitive for my own good), I knew I had the U2 concert to look forward to and hustled home to shower and hurry over to the Superdome, which is in walking distance to my apartment.

Fast forward two hours and I left the Superdome with a huge smile on my face even though I had been put through an emotional wringer.

My mom and dad are huge U2 fans and played their albums throughout the house as my sister and I were growing up. I don’t have much recollection of “Joshua Tree” with it coming out when I was two-years old, but “Achtung Baby” and “Rattle and Hum” stick out in my mind quite a bit.

Yet, during the concert – better yet, the 30th anniversary celebration of “Joshua Tree,” – I found myself captivated by the album I only heard in passing. I sung along with the first three songs they played off the album – “Where The Streets Have No Name,” “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and “With or Without You” – and melted away into the smooth refrains of the others.

And when Bono spoke about strong women near the end of the set, I clapped, cheered and teared up when he mentioned mothers. My mom is the strongest woman in my life and I don’t know where I’d be without her. If you find this blog mom, I want you to know that every day if I don’t tell you.

A Wonderful Visit To Angola Prison (Rodeo)

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On October 2, 2016

In Life Happenings, New Orleans

The Louisiana State Penitentiary is a great place to be.

Let me clarify that: It’s a fantastic spot on a sunny Sunday in October.

I don’t think I’d want to stay there. The Angola Prison isn’t the Ritz Carlton.

Every year the largest maximum-security prison in the United States puts on a rodeo that features inmates as competitors. Inmates also sell arts and crafts and other wares they build inside the barbed-wire-topped walls (a lot of furniture).

I heard about the Angola Rodeo from rodeo industry folks I met in Texas while covering the Wimberley VFW Rodeo all of those years. Many of those Protection Athletes (or clowns as they’re more commonly known) have it on a Bucket List to work “The Wildest Show in the South,” because of its history and legacy.

Rodeos have a soft spot in my heart after living in the Lone Star State. I got some great clips and memories from my trips to Wimberley and if I have a chance to go to a local rodeo from now on, I’m definitely jumping at the opportunity to do so.

Well, I found out the Angola Rodeo runs every Sunday in October and with no plans to speak of on opening weekend, I bought two tickets and asked my buddy James to tag along. He readily agreed and at around 10 a.m. on Sunday, we left New Orleans.

The Louisiana State Penitentiary is about 2 1/2 hours from New Orleans, located in the middle of nowhere. It’s surrounded by swampland, the Mississippi River and sits near the border of Louisiana and Mississippi. The drive is gorgeous once you get out of Baton Rouge. You pass plantation after plantation (well, former plantations now) and see roads lined with old trees covered in Spanish Moss.

As we passed through the gates, something I said to a guy at the gym earlier in the morning dawned on me: “I woke up excited to check out a rodeo. The inmates who are going to be at the rodeo are just happy to get a very small taste of freedom.”

The biggest nuance I loved about the Angola Rodeo was that they didn’t often send inmates out one by one during competition. They’d send eight men on eight bulls or teams of three trying to wrestle a steer. Then there was Inmate Pinball, where eight men stood inside hula hoops and a bull charged out of the gate. The last man inside his hula hoop would be declared the winner. The same thing goes for Convict Poker, but that’s where four men sit around a folding table and the last man sitting wins.

We left 20 minutes early to beat the traffic, stopped in Baton Rogue to get dinner and watch the last two quarters of the Saints game. (As an aside, I went to another Saints game last Monday. Unfortunately they lost to the Atlanta Falcons.)

Overall it was a very pleasant Sunday and recommend the rodeo to all.

Reflections On Year 30

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On June 23, 2016

In Life Happenings

One year ago today I turned 29+1.

I said it like that for the longest time because 30 felt old.

It meant my 20’s were gone and 40’s were a stone’s throw away.

If you can read between the lines, today is my birthday — and my sister’s.

Back in 1985, I came out kicking and screaming into this world. Seriously.

My parents didn’t know they were having twins, so after my sister was born, the doctor noticed another set of legs and pulled me out. Yes, I was a breech baby.

Enough with the details of my birth, though.

Thirty was a remarkable age for me.

It started out in Savannah, Georgia with those I care a lot about. Since I couldn’t make the trip back home due to extenuating circumstances, my family brought the party down to me and vacationed in one of the most beautiful and historic cities I’ve ever had the privilege of visiting. Every single part of the vacation — with the exception of a flat tire — was picture perfect.

Over the next 366 days (2016 was a leap year, after all), life hit fast forward.

Within two months of turning 30, I moved from Athens, Georgia to New Orleans, Louisiana after accepting a position as a communications assistant with the U.S. Track & Field and Cross Country Coaches Association (USTFCCCA). Just like that, I got pulled from my comfort zone in Georgia — as much as it was one for me — and whisked away to a place I had only visited once before in my life for WrestleMania.

Maybe 30 was the perfect time for that to happen to me.

Ever since I wrapped up classes at the University of Delaware in February of 2007 (walked in May with my sister), my life has been in a bit of disarray in one way or another — most of it by my own hand. It’s unfortunate, but my choices led me down the paths I went and by my own admission, I don’t think a move to New Orleans before 30 would have netted me as much positive growth.

What living in The Big Easy has provided me is much-needed structure. Long gone were the hours of working in newspapers and creating a life around those dreadful hours. Instead, I could mold my life around a common construct of time and not feel like I had to “catch up” in some way or another to make up for “lost time.”

A 9-5 job meant I could date normally (and meet an awesome person, if I must say so), have nights to myself and more importantly — or should I say most importantly — allowed me to create a social circle, something I didn’t really have from ages 22-29. While, at times, I feel like I miss some really fun times with my current group of friends due to work, at least I have an invitation — something I could only wistfully hope for when I lived in Texas or Georgia.

I’m aware this is probably deeper than you expected to read when you opened this post, but as soon as I started writing it poured out of my fingers and onto the page.

Thirty changed me. I am absolutely 100-percent sure of that fact.

I’m excited for what the 10th anniversary of the time I turned 21 has in store.

On Being A Proud Uncle: You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid

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On May 31, 2016

In Life Happenings

Picture this: It’s 11:55 pm on New Year’s Eve and I’m glued to my phone.

My life is about to change in an amazing way.

I’m going to be an uncle for the first time.

I told my friends that if my sister gave birth to the first baby of the new year, I’d buy rounds for the rest of the night. Knowing the company I kept, that could have been a dangerous proposition — but I couldn’t contain my excitement.

Eventually I got word that Jack entered the world at 1:16 a.m. ET on New Year’s Day. That’s 12:16 a.m. local time in New Orleans, in case you don’t know.

Astronauts could have probably seen my smile from space.

Jack turned out to be the first BOY born that day, but a girl earned the distinction of being the First Baby of 2016. I still bought a round to celebrate.

Fast forward nearly five months and the groundwork was laid for me to finally meet him in person. FaceTime — or any video messaging — is an incredible invention, yet real face time with those you love can’t be beat.

Here’s the thing: I wanted it to be a surprise for my sister.

Every time I talked to my sister on the phone, she told me how she couldn’t wait for me to meet Jack. Based on my schedule, she knew it would be tough for me to find free time outside of Christmas, but held on hope that I could visit beforehand.

That time came this past weekend and I can’t put into words how great it was.

My sister crumpled to her knees upon seeing me sitting the dining room and sobbed out, “Tyler! I can’t believe you’re home.”

Part of me wanted to record her reaction — probably the millennial in me. Check that, definitely the millennial in me. Then I remembered how Lupe Fiasco lambasted someone at the concert I went to about recording the show and ruining the now for the future. Sure, you can see the moment over and over again, but you lose the true feeling of remembering it as it was.

So I let nature take its course and it was something I’ll never forget.

I spent as much time as I could over Memorial Day Weekend with my nephew and the rest of my family, for that matter. Those times are few and far between.

I’ll cherish them more and more from now on.

House of Shock and Halloween Happenings

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On October 24, 2015

In Life Happenings, New Orleans

Ten-year-old me was a pansy.

I’m going to call it as I see it.

My aunt always took me and my twin sister on little excursions and during one October weekend, she decided we were old enough to try our hand at one of the scariest haunted houses in the nation — the Eastern State Penitentiary. Every October, they turn the abandoned prison that housed Al Capone and a few other known gangsters back in the day into an extreme haunted house. It already has a bunch of history behind it, so why not lock people up in cells and that stuff?

As we got near the front of the line after at least a two-hour wait, I began to chicken out in a big way. I’m pretty sure I started crying, so my aunt tried to console me and took me out of line while her friend waited with my sister. They were still keen on going through with it, but there was no way I could do it and keep my sanity. Well, eventually my sister decided it wasn’t for her either and we gave up on the idea.

Fast forward 20 years or so to this past Friday night.

I had seen ads for one of the scariest haunted houses in the nation called “House of Shock,” which is located about 20 minutes from where I live in New Orleans. I asked folks from my kickball team if they wanted to join and one other person said ‘Sure.’

So off we went.

Long story short, it was a good time. While I had to duck through some of the rooms and it ruined some of the jump scares, they caught me slipping a few times which is all I could really ask for as an adult in those places. My only complaint was that they let too many people go through the “House of Shock” at once. It would have been a lot better if they spaced out the groups more so the volunteers could get back into position and you could be scared more than knowing what was about to come.

Did I atone for chickening out 20 years ago at the Eastern State Penitentiary? Not a chance in Hell. One of these years I’m going to fly back home and make the drive up to Philadelphia and conquer that haunted house. But if I blog about that experience and say I peed myself, please don’t make fun of me. We’re all allowed one as adults.

Catching Up Since the Move to New Orleans

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On September 23, 2015

In Life Happenings, Life Stuff

New Orleans.

Wow.

I never thought I’d call The Big Easy home.

Hell, if you told me after I graduated from the University of Delaware that within the next eight years I’d live in New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, Texas, Georgia and Louisiana, I wouldn’t have believed you. Life takes you where it damn well pleases.

So what have I been up to since I moved a little more than one month ago?

Primarily I’ve been trying to adjust to the 9-to-5 lifestyle — not so much in the sense of waking up earlier compared to newspapers and such, but the “extra” time. While I know 40-hour weeks are 40-hour weeks, working 9 to 5 frees up a lot more time in my mind than working in newspapers ever did. Maybe it’s because I have weekends off for the first time in my career — or that it’s still bright out when I leave the office.

With all of that ‘free time’ at my disposal, I’ve tried to put myself out there as much as possible and hit a groove socially — and that doesn’t mean I’m spending every waking hour on Bourbon Street even though I live four blocks from there. By the way, mix the smells of urine and bad decisions and that’s the odor of Bourbon St.

For the first few Thursdays I found a group that played pickup dodgeball in a rec center not too far from me. While the games were fine and I forgot how much fun dodgeball was, getting my iPhone 6 stolen the first week I was in town wasn’t fun.

Pickup dodgeball soon ended as the season geared up (I missed the signup date), so I have since transferred my talents to pickup kickball. That’s also an activity I hadn’t played since sixth grade. Soccer players really have an advantage in that I’ve found.

Where I’ve spent most of my time, especially since college football is back in full swing, is covering Tulane for a site called Underdog Dynasty. In case y’all forgot, the Green Wave is (and I really had that it’s a singular team name) awful. That’s why I take the Dr. Strangelove approach to the games and say “Tyler Covers Tulane: Or How I Learned to Stop Caring and Love Bad Football.” To be completely honest, it’s been great to be back in a press box again. I also love the thrill of covering a game and while I don’t have a ‘deadline’ since I’m writing for online, I pressure myself to get it done as soon as possible. That doesn’t make game nights much fun — but I love to write and it keeps me out of trouble. In my opinion, one of the best articles I wrote so far for Underdog Dynasty was this piece: From Goat to Hero: The Ballad of Tulane WR Devon Breaux. That’s also the first game I caught Green Wave Fever.

So yeah, I’m trying to find things to do — but more importantly, I’m trying to find my groove. They say, “You don’t call New Orleans. It will call you.” Baby, I’m listening.

On the Move Again: Hello, New Orleans

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On August 5, 2015

In Life Happenings, Life Stuff

A little more than two years ago I drove to New Orleans, nervous but excited.

As it turns out, not much changes in the span of 859 days.

Back in 2013, I decided to attend WrestleMania 30 by myself. I had never been to The Big Easy, let alone stepped out of my comfort zone that much. As I opened my mind to what could happen and the overall experience, I began to reap the rewards. Not only did I see one of the best WrestleMania cards of all-time, I truly liked what I saw of New Orleans. There was an indescribable charm and buzz surrounding it all.

Next Tuesday I head back to New Orleans. This time, however, will be for keeps.

I turned in my resignation at the Athens Banner-Herald on Monday.

In two weeks, I’ll continue my career as communications assistant for the U.S. Track and Field Cross Country Coaches Association (USTFCCCA).

I need to pause a second to read those two sentences again. These past two weeks have been a whirlwind, to say the least. Life happens when you truly least expect it.

This will be my fourth move since August 2007, as you can see on the above graphic. I’ll be retracing 540 of the 1,208 miles I traversed when I moved last July from San Marcos, Texas to Athens, Georgia. If you’re counting at home, which I am sure you are, this trip from Athens to New Orleans will put me at 4,622 lifetime miles moved.

I’ll have my dad with me again to help, just like I did when I went up to Maine as well as my trip from Texas to Georgia. These trips allow us to grow closer, which is great.

There are a million things running through my mind at the moment, but I felt it was a good idea to break this news on my blog. Check back in the upcoming days, because I’m sure I’ll have more to say about this truly great opportunity I have in front of me.

What UDXC/TF Really Meant To Me

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On June 6, 2015

In Life Happenings, Sports

I never expected to be a Division I athlete.

Heck, as a high school freshman I was 5-foot-1, 105 pounds. If that.

During freshman orientation at Mount Pleasant High School (Go Green Knights), they had tables set up in the library manned by various sports coaches.Scrawny me went up to the football table and got laughed away. Seriously, what was I thinking? Then I walked across the room to the cross country table and they welcomed me with open arms. I’m sure they never turned someone away, probably for the better.

And after one failed attempt at playing baseball my freshman year, I turned my full attention toward running (cross country and track). Funny story: The football coach was also the track coach, like many are, and chuckled when he saw me come out.

Over the next four years I grew physically (Thank God) and athletically. By the time I was a junior, I became a decent runner. Then my senior year it all came together.

I placed fourth at the state cross country meet, seventh in the 1,600-meter run of the state track and field meet and third in the 3,200-meter run at the same event. I capped my prep career at the Meet of Champions, where I ran 10:06 in the 3,200.

Fast forward nine months and I toed the starting line as a varsity member of the University of Delaware track and field team. What happened between May 2003 and March 2004 isn’t really important. I ended up at UD, mainly because of the in-state tuition, went out for cross country/track and field because I knew I loved to run and before I knew it, I ran the 10,000 meters at the Monmouth Invitational.

Over the next four years I ran in plenty more races, lettered three times in cross country as well as indoor and outdoor track, but that’s not what sticks with me.

Eight years after my last race, I still feel as if I have the confidence that becoming a Division I athlete gave me. I worked hard for that. While I ostracized (or vilified) myself from the team — and today that remains as one of my biggest regrets — the feeling of being a part of something and the accomplishment of putting myself in that position to succeed urges me on not only in my athletic endeavors, but life.

There I am! And boy, am I white. (Photo courtesy DelawareOnline.com)

Today, no other guys can embark on that road since the University of Delaware axed the varsity cross country and track teams back in 2011. Our coach since left for greener pastures and only remnants remain in the form of two club teams.

Recently, an effort has been made to restore the program. According to that story from The News Journal in Wilmington, Delaware, a father of a runner who was on the team when it was cut filed a complaint to the Delaware Division of Human Relations that states the University of Delaware violated a state law in doing so.

Who knows how far it will go — if it gains any traction at all. I hope it creates some kind of ripple that will end the same way the recent fiasco involving the University of Alabama at Birmingham football program did — with it being fully reinstated.

I’m not going to get my hopes up, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed there’s good news.

——————————-

Now’s probably one of the best time to post that clip of me nearly killing myself (not really) during the 3,000-meter steeplechase. Even made America’s Funniest Videos.

Georgia’s loss triggers flood of past sports memories

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On March 23, 2015

In Life Happenings

While watching Michigan State dispatch Georgia last weekend in the “second round” of the NCAA Tournament, I thought back to a few years ago when I went to the Round of 32 on a whim with my roommate. It was held at the AT&T Center in San Antonio, a 45-minute drive from where we lived in San Marcos.

We tried to go the previous year when Austin’s Frank Erwin Center played host, but tickets were hard to come by. My roommate was (and probably still is) a huge Florida fan and the Gators ended winning two games in Texas (beating Northwestern State and Minnesota) en route to the Elite Eight.

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