Before My Last Breath

I woke up this morning thinking about epitaphs. I don’t know why, or if something in particular triggered it but as I went about my morning ambulation I kept wondering what if you could live your own epitaph? If you knew someone was going to write about you after you were gone, how would you live, and what would they say as a result? What kind of life did you lead, what sort of person were you? And knowing all this how would you live? What choices would you make? Would you smile more? Would you be kinder? Would you have more patience? Would you take better care of your body? Your mind? Would you complain less? Would you remember to say thank you and please? Would you take out the garbage un-reminded? Would you stop to smell the flowers – literally? Would you hold the door, or let someone go ahead of you in traffic? Would you pick up the phone and call someone you care about and say “I love you”? Would you give away some of your money to charity, or someone less fortunat...

It’s been a while since I can say that I had mud on my legs and actually appreciated that fact. You see I went for a mountain bike ride Sunday afternoon. The last time I was off road on a bicycle I lived in California. That was six years ago. My old ti bike has been transformed into a rigid forked, slick tired city basher that can pull a Burley trailer with baby. The cold weather has arrived suddenly and riding a road bike in weather like this sucks. You need a thousand layers on and even then your fingers and toes freeze. I am a warm weather roadie. Riding the rollers indoors is an exercise in will and focus and patience. I started thinking there had to be a better way to keep riding my bike outside until the snow started falling. I had a brilliant and simple idea. I’d buy another bike. Mon dieux! Not another bike! Yes add another to the stable of 3 now 4. So a friend of mine sold me his full suspension bike that he never rode and was in virtually showroom condition (tha...

Last night something amazing happened. Some might call it a miracle. Some felt as if their prayers had been answered. And still others felt the despair in their hearts loosen as they watched this unique American spectacle called Election Day. It wasn’t even close this one. The hope and desire for real change manifested itself in the man who won the election by a landslide. The snapshots of Americans who voted for Obama were varied and diverse. The images of people, yeah just people of so many colors standing as one were spectacular. But what struck me the most was the reaction from around the world. The photographs of citizens from places far from this American soil showing their optimism and joy for the new president to be were beautiful. It blew my mind. It reflected the connectedness that we all share – the oneness of humanity. It was as if color no longer mattered (when really did it ever?). It was like we finally grew up as a civilization. And the man on the TV screen was one of u...