I write about coming across a younger version of myself and seeing a part of me that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.
I swerved the car left than right, skimmed off the concrete barrier and then back out on the road and crashed into the rear of another car. I looked up in the mirror just in time to see a third car strike us squarely in the rear-end.
Seconds earlier my wife, daughter, our three-year-old family dog and I were enjoying a leisurely day-after-Christmas drive to my mothers. The next minute, we were sitting in our stopped car, too scared to talk, hearts pounding, wondering what exactly happened.
When it comes to life’s little challenges and annoyances, I tend to see things in black or white. And unfortunately lately there are a lot of things that don’t make sense to me.
I call this, the things that make me go hmmm column.
You be the judge:
I love to drive. A sunny day, the purr of a finely-tuned engine, a full tank of gas, clear road in front of me, maybe a coffee or soda in my cupholder, and I can drive for hours on end.
Unfortunately, I’ve faced more than a few congested roads and a seemingly endless list of crazy drivers this summer including two significant road trips in a matter of days to Charleston, South Carolina and Stowe, Vermont. As I sat stalled in traffic on one particular trip, I couldn’t help but laugh at the explosion of Sammy Hagar’s “I can’t drive 55” blaring over the radio.
Sammy and his Pre-Van Halen hit got me thinking about how drivers and musical performers have a lot in common.
Let me set the scene. The thirteen colonies have fought a long hard battle. But now their tenuous new government, strung together by a weak Articles of Confederation, is in danger of breaking apart.
I write about the 24 hours that changed my life, flipping our middle class lifestyle upside-down. The change shaped my childhood and who I am today.
When I think about the September 11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the fourth plane that crashed in Western Pennsylvania fifteen years ago, I’m struck by the smallest of details that I remember about the day.
The National Football League sneezes and it coughs up tens of millions of dollars. The moneymaker that is the National Football League kicks off its 97th season tonight, when the defending Super Bowl Champions, the Denver Broncos, take on the Carolina Panthers.
The NFL is as popular as ever. Last year, 205 million Americans watched at least one NFL game, representing 70 percent of the potential TV viewers in America, dwarfing viewership for any other type of programming.
While exciting as it is to have football back, I found myself wondering if there is anything that could derail the behemoth that the NFL has become? I can’t think of much. However, I’m finding that the NFL seems to invent new and creative ways to upset its fan base.
From the ashes of frustration and pain come success. I write about my son’s hard work to overcome a significant challenge and reach his goals.
We all have our little idiosyncrasies. With my kids all home this summer to poke and prod me, I’ve become even more painfully aware of mine.