I was walking into Lowe's the other day. A father and his two young sons were walking out. He was probably mid-forties. The kids were maybe eight and ten…. One of the little boys said nothing at all. For the purpose of our story, he might as well not have been there, other than the fact that his presence broadened the impact of the event which had just taken place. "Why did you call that woman Karen," the older child asked his dad. "Was her name Karen?"
My Achilles Heel is that I never knew what I wanted to do for a living until I was almost thirty. I came to writing late. So when I am in the presence of two people like yesterday's bride and groom I feel deficient. These were individuals who knew what they wanted to do even before they began high school, let alone college. . . .
I'm sitting in my office on a Sunday afternoon. Rode the Peloton, went to church, Ricardo's in San Juan for crunchy tacos and refried beans, a little time re-reading The Winds of War, and now here I sit.
Unlike my friend Dan, I am perpetually underdressed. I try. Sort of. But it seems I'm always a jacket and pair of dress shoes short. As my wife told me last night after we attended a party here in New York, I tend to look like I just left track practice. Dan, on the other hand, is always pressed and shined, no matter the occasion.
This year marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of one of my forgotten works: Inline Skating Made Easy. When people ask me to name my first book, I usually talk about Surviving the Toughest Race on Earth, my memoir about covering and competing in the legendary Raid Gauloises adventure race. But Surviving wasn't the first. Actually, Inline wasn't either. . . .
