I’ve met a lot of guys that were born on third base, but thought they hit a triple. Born in to a family that had more advantages than others.
I wasn’t born on third base. In fact I had to take the el to the ballpark and when I got there….. nosebleed seats.
For most of my formative years I lived with my mom. She was a very sad person. Always looking at the past with disappointment and the future with doubt and fear. Not a healthy situation to live in.
Definitely not third base looking at home plate.
My mom could have gone to The Julliard School, but instead went into the family business….. the convent.
Yep, my mom was a nun for five years.
I’ll never know the real story on that decision, but it haunted her for the rest of her life.
So when it came to me and my perspective I learned to leave the anger of disappointment in the past and push forward towards a bright future.
Sometimes I walked myself into a shitshow, but it didn’t stop me and I kicked the crap off my shoes and moved on….
Life doesn’t have to be a thread of hope. It’s a rope and we are playing Tug of War.
Grip hard and angle your fat ass so to have a strong position and control of the momentum of life.
Kiss a Ginger Day! I have the Shepkids on Wednesdays. So I’ll have that chance.
Little warm up in Chicagoland…. The line at the car wash will be long!
