As the wind blusters the leaves off the trees and into little swirling patterns from the tall oak in front of the National Geographic museum, I get a little stirred up and a tad restless. Change is important, maybe necessary for a boy of my temperment.
There's always a number of jobs out there I feel a deep draw towards and an exact equal number of those jobs want to have nothing to do with me, mock my enthusiasms, cite my lack of experience (imagine me - lacking experience? mind boggling!), rain on my parade. These include, but are not limited to: writer, political hack, baseball star, baseball writer, small business owner, boss, traveller, travel writer, travelling baseball player for a political campaign, farmer, park ranger, carnival barker, folk singer, Buddhist monk, birdwatcher, union organizer, fishing guide, warrior poet, ordained minister, and that guy who sits in a little store or bar and makes random conversation all day.
Instead, I do what I do and it isn't so bad. Hmmm. Maybe I'm just like my mother. She's never satisfied.
