There are some things I’m never going to be.

Yesterday I was driving through the small town east of my house, and stopped at a crosswalk as a group of little kids stumbled in front of me, tripping over robes and cloaks and capes and what looked like a McDonald’s french fry costume, on their way to the village Halloween gathering.

Their parents were far enough away to seem removed, but close enough to keep an eye on them. There were probably 4 sets of rather beautiful-looking couples, and they were all so… well…


And I realized that there are some things I’m never going to be.

An NBA star.

A starting college football quarterback.

President of the United States (not likely, anyway).

A young parent.

If I’m a parent at all, I’ll be the dad that parents like these think is the grandfather.

Which is ok, really.

I’m where I’m supposed to be.

And who I’m supposed to be.

Bono’s voice filled the silent truck cab.

What you don’t have you don’t need it now / What you don’t know you can feel it somehow / It’s a beautiful day / Don’t let it get away 

He was right.

It was a beautiful day.

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