Friday, April 24, 2009

Art is Long, Time is Bleeting

My birthday is in September and the state in which I grew up allowed kids with this birth month to begin school the year of the 5th birthday. So, I started kindergarten when I was 4. I was always one of the youngest in my grade.

I was also the 3rd of 3 boys, with the next younger 10 years older than me. My oldest brother is 16 years older than me. So, after about 3rd grade, I was basically an only child. And, my parents moved to a new state after I graduated from high school, having lived in the same house for 18 years.

I grew up somewhat as the spoiled baby of the family. Although my parents were always fairly stoic (both with depression-era resiliency), becoming empty-nesters after 25 years of raising kids added to living in a new place must have been traumatic.

They never showed even momentary angst to me. They always had my (and my brothers') best interest at heart. I will always remember my Mom telling me when I left for college to enjoy the experience, that it would be the best of my life. I did enjoy my college years. I met some great friends, matured immensely, and maybe learned a few new things along the way.

As you move through life, you realize the significance of how you choose to spend your time. I have no regrets about how I spent my college years. I was not a star student. I was far from the most popular BMOC. But, I don't think there's anything I would want deleted from my college years (well, maybe one night of altered consciousness early on; a tale for another day).

I would, however, add some things to those years based on having experienced more trials of life war. I think I would have a different perspective and appreciation for some of the classes that seemed then a waste of time. English Lit is one, Sociology and Poli Sci are others.

I don't think anything I could have added to my college experience would have prepared me to appreciate a cultured town such as San Antonio trying to intimidate a Dallas Mavericks basketball player through haiku.

The Alamo's home.
Roosevelt's Rough Riders base,
Slinging Haiku Smack.

What's next in the wide, wide world of sports?

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