Proud of myself

Twenty years ago, I was a lonely, angry kid terrified to grow up. Was about to learn to drive, and hated every minute of it -- was scared to leave the very driveway behind the wheel. Barely knew how to write a check, let alone any of the other responsibilities of being an adult.

Last night as I successfully dodged black ice, heavy traffic and demonic detours to drive deep into the city after a long, but rewarding day of work, to meet my Wife and Her father at the Center to see a basketball game, I felt really good about just how far I have come since then.

I've driven all the way across the United States and in the maelstrom of Washington, D.C. I have met the Woman of my dreams and we've lasted fourteen years. I have a job with serious responsibilities, that for the most part I enjoy.

Like that country song they're playing these days, I sure wish I could write a letter to that miserable kid back in 1989 and tell him, hang tough, everything is gonna be okay.